Suddenly

Caribou’s Dan Snaith is one of those guys you might be tempted to call a “producer” but at this point is basically a singer-songwriter who happens to work in an electronic medium. Like 2014’s *Our Love* and 2010’s *Swim*, the core DNA of *Suddenly* is dance music, from which Snaith borrows without constraint or historical agenda: deep house on “Lime,” UK garage on “Ravi,” soul breakbeats on “Home,” rave uplift on “Never Come Back.” But where dance tends to aspire to the communal (the packed floor, the oceanic release of dissolving into the crowd), *Suddenly* is intimate, almost folksy, balancing Snaith’s intricate productions with a boyish, unaffected singing style and lyrics written in nakedly direct address: “If you love me, come hold me now/Come tell me what to do” (“Cloud Song”), “Sister, I promise you I’m changing/You’ve had broken promises I know” (“Sister”), and other confidences generally shared in bedrooms. (That Snaith is singing a lot more makes a difference too—the beat moves, but he anchors.) And for as gentle and politely good-natured as the spirit of the music is (Snaith named the album after his daughter’s favorite word), Caribou still seems capable of backsliding into pure wonder, a suggestion that one can reckon the humdrum beauty of domestic relationships and still make time to leave the ground now and then.

Dan Snaith’s latest is as sly and layered as ever, but he finds ways to be more direct with his songwriting. There are no bum notes, no wasted motions, no corners of the audio spectrum left untouched.

Seven albums in and the Canadian's project is as vital as ever

After nearly 20 years, the Canadian producer retains his weirdness on a progressive, enchanting electronic treat of an album

It’s perhaps the most vital album of his career.

It continues Caribou’s knack of releasing albums that are both accessible and explorative.

Caribou’s ‘Suddenly’ conjures a majestic sense of the familiar; Princess Nokia explores every facet of herself; and Soccer Mommy ruminates on childhood, mental health and family issues with a newly refined sound

Over a long career arc, electronic producer Dan Snaith took his Caribou project from sunny sample-core to more organic, psyche-tinged creations and beyond.

On Caribou's seventh album, Dan Snaith finds his voice and brings his experimental side to the fore without sacrificing his perfectly lush melodies.

Only Dan Snaith (aka Caribou) could take hundreds of draft ideas — give or take 900 — and narrow them down to 12 tracks of Technicolor magic...

It's been over half a decade since we were last invited into the mind of Dan Snaith under his famous Caribou moniker. On 2014s Our Love, the project delivered an expertly executed maximalist portrayal of love and connection, set atop some of the prettiest

(City Slang)

While it doesn’t provide the instant gratification of its predecessors, Suddenly still has that intangible quality that’s characterised every Caribou album.

The album takes family as its central theme with songs that express the perspectives of a range of characters.

Life, by its very nature, is unpredictable.

'Suddenly' by Caribou Album Review, by Adam Williams. The artist/producer's new album, driops on February 28, via Merge/City Slang Records

Dan Snaith’s project returns after five years away to confront grief and family, beautifully warping songs that are drenched in melody

Album Reviews: Caribou - Suddenly

Around the turn of the millennium, when Dan Snaith started releasing music – initially as Manitoba, then Caribou, and latterly also Daphni – he tended to get lumped in with the folktronica movement. In fact, the closest he came to actual folk was a heavy influence from the more delicate side of late 60s psychedelia.