Caribou
Swim

By Michael David Toth

Since 2001, under the names Manitoba and Caribou, Dan Snaith has channeled some of his favorite musical obsessions into really interesting new, revisionist music via sampled sounds and live instruments. Each new Caribou release has documented Snaith’s phase of particular obsession at that time. Past explorations have included ornate 1960s U.K. psych-pop, minimalist early- ’70s krautrock and ’90s down-tempo techno and layered shoegazer sonics. Caribou’s latest fixation is making danceable club rhythms while trying to avoid some of that genre’s clichés. The end product draws from Snaith’s heightened sense of interesting texture, learned along the journeys of making his previous albums. As such, the result begs more specific connections to common ingredients within past Caribou releases than sweeping references to broad genres of influence.

Although there are some catchy spots, Swim doesn’t seem to care about necessarily continuing the swooning Zombies-esque pop hooks of 2007’s Andorra. It seems less concerned about leaving behind hummable melodies than constructing an “in the moment” experience of an exotic aural landscape. However, hints of Andorra’s lush chamber-pop do emerge in intermittent embellishments to the rhythm patterns. This new record is more about building colorful grooves with an organic feel. Diverging from the digital glitchiness of Snaith’s earliest releases, Swim has a smoother, more analog synth and acoustic percussion vibe to it. Some sections, particularly “Sun,” can get a bit uninterestingly repetitive, but ultimately, the disc is intriguingly propelled by a steady supply of complex combinations of cool, unorthodox sounds.