Issue 492

Caribou Swim Merge Records Caribou is the recording moniker for Canadian Dan Snaith. He used to be called Manitoba, until some Handsome Dick put paid to that. Since that juncture, he's been releasing steadily more fantastic electronica records, each with their own distinct style. 'Swim' continues the upward trend set by previous efforts 'Andorra' and 'The Milk of Human Kindness'. Snaith - holder of a mathematics doctorate after writing an almost wholly incomprehensible thesis - has spoken about wanting to make his latest effort "dance music that sounds like it's made out of water rather than made out of metallic stuff like most dance music does". He's a gifted enough composer to have carried out that pledge - the rhythms and themes weave together seamlessly, so much so that you often think you're listening to one continuous piece of music (a post-modern 'Tubular Bells'?). The juxtaposition between the fluid grooves of the songs - with opener Odessa and Bowls being choice cuts - and the often-candid lyrical matter (getting lonely and falling out of love) is a striking one, granting the entire record a conflicted and complex emotional sub-text. The 9 tracks clock in at slightly over 43 minutes. With an average song length of almost 5 minutes, Snaith gives his songs plenty of room to stretch out. He employs the tricks of his lithe-minded colleague, Kieran Hebden (better known to you and me as Four Tet) in the slow, engaging build of his compositions. A song will begin with a clear theme that is expanded over the course of its length. No songs on 'Swim' outstay their welcome, and each are fully realised conceptions of an exceptional talent. This is dance music, in that it's funky and catchy as hell, but it's cerebral, and doesn't feel cheap or cheaply put together. It's no shame to admit enjoying this; 'Swim' exercises your mind as well as your body. Mateo Szlapek-Sewillo