11. Our Love / Caribou

Dan Snaith has a doctorate in mathematics from Imperial College London, and as the son of a math professor, he had an uphill battle convincing his parents that he could earn a living making music. Fortunately there should be no family drama; Snaith is a chilled-out electro wizard.  His lo-fi, DIY psychedelia on 2003's Up In Flames, when he still went by Manitoba, spawned a successful cult following.  Since then, under the moniker Caribou, Snaith has taken his compositions to ultra-deluxe places, and Our Love is no exception.

Caribou's 2010 breakthrough, Swim, contained cool liquid disco, a fluid take on house, hip-hop, garage, and jazz.  Our Love expands on those influences, contemporary and high-gloss, but with a strangely warm, soulful glow.  The record's vibrant sound and negative space invites feelings of both euphoria and melancholy.

"Can't Do Without You" is one of the most memorable singles of the year, its obsessive refrain grafting into your cerebral cortex until you admit your interdependence and the song can finally explode into starry celebration.  "Silver" throbs with funky little pulses, Snaith's voice hovering over the mix, while strange female vocals squiggle throughout the track.  It is trippy, heady stuff.  "All I Ever Need" snaps forward with a steady, metallic beat, a perfect club track for brainy minimalists. The title track is another spare and spacey triumph, with bass bumps, string flourishes, and synth runs all intended to send one message across the night skyline:  Our love . . .

Snaith's unique embrace of dance music is welcoming and inclusive.  Though this is his most accessible record to date, his experimental edge is still intact:  "Second Chance" employs R&B singer Jessy Lanza; "Mars" incorporates weird tribal vocals and flutes; and "Back Home" builds into a laser light-show finale.   He said "the primary impulse on this record was to make something that was generous in the sense that it was for everybody, not just for me locked in a studio by myself."  Done and done.

A final note from Snaith on the interplay between math and music:

"At university, I signed up for a real calculus class, and it was a revelation, because it was totally different than anything I'd done before.  It was all self-directed: They gave you a problem and you had to deal with it.  All of a sudden, there was this analogy with creating music.  Math was now creative in the same way: It was about being intuitive and exploring an idea until something became clear.  It was one of those moments when I finally started to understand what my dad liked so much about math, too.  For me, music has always been about the thrill of starting with nothing and ending up with some melody or sound that connects with me in some way."