Daily Archive

Pleasant surprise, this.  With his fourth album – two as the unhandsome and dickless Manitoba, and now two as Caribou – Dan Snaith has delivered a fabulous and unexpectedly poppy little principality.  Andorra may have its footballing credentials questioned on a regular basis, but the musical credentials of this are unimpeachable

Right from the no-messing, pounding, so melodic, opening track “Melody Day” – which may be the finest thing Dan Snaith has signed his name to - this is up there with the best experimental pop.  While electronic in nature, there are a whole lot of other sounds therein.  I’m hearing a lot of Nuggets in this.  Love’s ambition, with the flutes, strings and a certain Arthur Lee quality in the vocals too – check “Sandy”.  There are echoes of psych-rock guitar and some heavy Tintern Abbey drumming.  More modern hints of The Beta Band, even a shared song title in “She’s The One” (aficionados of the rom-com genre may protest that this is much more likely to be a reference to the Aniston vehicle of the same name).  A couple of low key electronic tracks serve to build atmosphere for the nine brilliant and unmistakeably Who-influenced minutes of “Niobe”.

Available in August.  Check Merge or Caribou’s Myspace page for more.

Where N-Collective family members Ultralyd’s Conditions for a Piece of Music luxuriates in its epic languor, Moha’s Norwegianism acts up like a particularly hyperactive and itchy child playing two shoot-em-up arcade games simultaneously whilst texting their mates about how they got thrown off the bus for shouting and throwing chips at their fellow passengers. 

On a typical (well, typical for them) piece like “Daily Three”, Anders Hana’s distorted guitars and electronics howl whilst Morten J. Olsen’s drums tumble thrilling all around a core of spasmodic Lightning Bolt twitch.  Tracks are generally fleeting (and ludicrously misnomered – nothing could accurately be described as “Jolly” or “Gay” here, unless they mean those words in their lesser-used senses of  “face-melting” or “laced with explosives”); just enough time to rip into your brain and mischievously swap a few connections around. One a couple of occasions, such as on “Ibiza One” towards the end, a hole is briefly smashed in the sky through which Ultralyd’s monstrous groan emerges, and as undeniably exciting as Norwegianism is, it may be to the Ultralyd album I think I’ll find myself returning more rather than this; Norwegianism leaves my synapses sparking and burnt out.

Norwegianism is available from Rune Grammofon.  Listen to more at their myspace.