Ever wondered what it's like to drop acid in the Canadian wilderness? You can get a rough idea by watching Caribou, aka Dan Snaith. Word on the street is that's how he came up with the name. Before that, he was called Manitoba (he adopted the new moniker in 2004 under threat of a lawsuit by musician Richard Manitoba, but that's another story). He's been recreating the experience for fans while touring to promote his new album Andorra, and March 29th's show at Johnny Brenda's was no exception. Following a set by up-and-coming electro-experimental artist Fuck Buttons, Snaith and his crew took to the stage and proceeded to unload psychedelia on the crowd. With the first beats of "Sundialing," colorful geometric patterns appeared on the screen behind the set, rotating and mutating in time to the music. The display continued for the duration of the show, and though each song synced to a different image theme, the succession was smooth and organic. These terms are also apt for the music itself, which reverberates with lush guitars and percussion mingling with Snaith's ethereal vocals. Often, a recorder flits and echoes around the sound, trilling almost like a hummingbird. Caribou's music has a hazy quality about it, and in the rush it's often difficult to distinguish between the instrumentation and electronic loops. The band's focus at the live show, however, was definitely instrumentals. The two drummers faced each other front and center, creating that thrill of symmetrical hammering-it-out, especially on the cymbal-heavy fan-favorite "Melody Day" and the crescendo of "Bees" from 2005's The Milk of Human Kindness. The set relied mostly on his most recent two albums, but Snaith wove in a few older tracks like "Skunks" that also exuded the psychedelic feel more prevalent in his newer work.
One of the most surprising things about a Caribou performance is the contrast between the band's minimal stage presence and the quality of the show. Not once did any of the band members even acknowledge the crowd; furthermore, the crowd's response was, at its most outrageous, some passionate head-nodding. The warm glow and intimacy of Johnny Brenda's complemented the show not because it fostered a connection between the band and the audience, but rather because it enhanced the internal experience. On some level, Caribou introverts its listeners - but when your head's like this, who wants to leave?
