Caribou - Swim

Oh, to be a fly on the wall ‘round Kieran Hebden or Dan Snaith's house over the past year. It’s usually inevitable that old friends begin to drift apart during their thirties; sure, they might meet up at their kids' football matches, or that one night a month reserved for civilised pints down the local. If they're lucky they might get to work together, but that usually just leads to slightly more bearable lunchbreaks, not Saturday night recce missions to cutting-edge Shoreditch nightspots. But then, Hebden (Four Tet) and Snaith (Caribou) are no ordinary pair of friends, and when recent coffee table banter between them turned to dance music – dance music that was fresher, broader and frankly weirder than anything they'd heard in years – it proved pivotal for both men. And while Hebden may have stolen a march in lending some experience to this brave new dawn with January's sublime There Is Love In You, his Canadian pal has more than matched him on his own fifth full-length. 

Just like Hebden on his early contender for album of the year, Snaith hasn't roughed up his edges just because Burial has been nominated for a Mercury Prize, or NME writers are now contractually obliged to mention dubstep at least twice an issue; this isn't just some washed-up electronic artist chasing the curve, trying desperately to remain relevant. From his time as Manitoba to his recent Polaris Prize-winning turn as Caribou, we know Snaith is far better than that. Instead, he's bravely ditched the melodious pop samples that adorned 2007's Andorra, and chosen to follow the new direction in which dance music is being pulled by just about every Hyperdub release. And like any true master of his craft, he shows the young pretenders exactly how it should be done here. Truth be told, Joy Orbison and Gold Panda must be shitting themselves at the prospect of having to release hugely anticipated debut albums in a year already conquered by There Is Love In You and now Swim. 

Caribou's change of tack wass well flagged by the claustrophobic funk of 'Odessa', the album's first single and opening number. The more hurried, harder beats continue on into 'Sun', an insanely addictive track that shows Snaith hasn't completely cut off his ear for melody, just given it a subtler palette to work with. While the man himself cites track three, 'Kaili', as his clearest attempt at aping James Holden’s pioneering build-crash-build sound, closer 'Jamelia' does this even better, starting off all unassuming before building up into an exploding finale of fireworks. There are highlights aplenty in-between too, and you'll struggle to avoid weighting the play count heavily in favour of both 'Leave House' and 'Hannibal'. 

Snaith says he whittled down more than 600 ideas before settling on Swim's 9 tracks, explaining that such a lengthy process would be intimidating had it not already worked for each of his previous four albums. He clearly knows what he's doing, and Swim is an undeniably accomplished piece of work. More than that, though, it's a record to really love; equal parts hypnotic headphone music and blissful club sounds, there's something for all the electronica family to enjoy.