ALBUM REVIEW: Caribou - Andorra

Caribou
Andorra
Merge, 2007

Dundas Ontario’s Dan Snaith long pedaled his electronic wares under the name Manitoba. That is, until 2004 when Handsome Dick Manitoba, ex-lead singer of The Dictators, started worrying that people might confuse Snaith’s mathematically perfect pop concoctions with the Dictators’ proto-punk rebel rock.

Thus it was, that Snaith decided to rename his band Caribou and since then he’s released a series of ever more accomplished releases, culminating in this, the mostly delightful Andorra. The title speaks volumes: Andorra is a tiny country in the Pyrenees mountains between Spain and France. If I’m not mistaken, one of its main exports is frothy, bubbly mineral water. A deliberate metaphor? From a PhD candidate with a professorial lineage, there can be little doubt.

With its accent on melodies and song writing, Andorra is somewhat of a departure from its predecessors. Forsaking much of Caribou’s previous meandering electronic explorations, Andorra’s feel is squarely rooted in 1960s psychedelic pop. At times this approach makes the album sound like an updated version of Gallic electronic breezepop merchants such as Air and Mellow. It’s a cool, refreshing dip into the vibe of the past, without ever becoming sweet or cloying.

For the psychedelic train-spotter, Andorra is a treasure-trove of fleeting influences and samples. Here, there and everywhere you hear bits of Fairport Convention flutes, Pet Sounds introspection, and all manner of Beatles, Pink Floyd, and even Soft Machine bubbling around in the mix. The beginning of After Hours is a direct lift from Manfred Mann’s It’s So Easy Falling, while the doowop effects of She’s The One might well be sampled from Cherry Smash’s, 1967 obscurity Green Plant.  These however, are not quibbles. To a music obsessive, they are joys.

Eli sounds so heavily influenced by bands like The Free Design and The Move; it’s hard to detect electronic roots at all, which really is a compliment. Snaith, who’s also a drummer, trickles big, earthy Ringo toms overtop of the bips and bops. Maybe it would be nice to say that the result sounds like a more contemporary version of classic Brit-psyche, but when the pastiche is this accurate and joyous to listen to, who cares?

The only real departure from the love-in that is Andorra is the final track, Niobe. In its pulsing Krautrock undertone replete with Stockhausen vocalese, it sounds somewhat like a reversion to the Caribou of old, or at least a signpost to the future.

Perhaps in its uncanny ability to capture an imagined feeling of an age long past, Andorra will ultimately reveal itself to have been merely a diversion, an experiment. In trying to bottle an old and foreign sound, Caribou has succeeded in making an album that never goes flat.

Review by Greg Hood-Morris

Agree? Disagree? Email Greg at criticizegreg@gmail.com