Caribou @ Rock and Roll Hotel
Dan Snaith's approach to music has always been multi-layered. There is no minimalism in the songs of his band, Caribou. Everything from the '60s-inspired vocal harmonies to the dual drum parts seem perfectly crafted for maximum sonic and emotional effect. The Caribou live show follows the same premise: Adding projections and some bizarre instrumentation, but ultimately creating a warm cacophony of fuzz that feels oddly complete.
Yet Caribou was not content merely to envelop the audience at Rock and Roll Hotel Monday with their sound. Many of the tracks off of their recent release, Swim (which comprised most of their set), also motivated the audience to move their feet. The drum kits of Snaith and Brad Weber were located front and center precisely to achieve this effect. The speed and precision of Weber's drumming made it clear how much the set would have suffered without him -- which the band's local fans would have found out had Caribou not canceled its 2008 stop in D.C. due to his broken wrist.
If it had not already been obvious that Caribou's Snaith was the brains behind the set, his multi-tasking should have clued the audience in. In addition to topping the instrumentation with his falsetto, Snaith frequently switched back and forth between knob-twiddling and guitar playing, sometimes within the course of the same song. This didn't always work as brilliantly as it might have, like during "After Hours," when his switch between drums and guitar was less than fluid. But by the time Caribou had reached danceable set closer "Sun," this rough patch was all but forgotten, and the dual drumming of Snaith and Weber hit its peak by "Sundialing."
Opener Toro y Moi also reaped the benefits of a skilled rhythm section, who had only joined Chaz Bundick on tour a week earlier. The added presence onstage added depth to the performance and energy to some of the woozier moments of Bundick’s compositions. A fair amount of the Toro y Moi set still sounded like music for relaxation purposes (and occasionally veered into background noise territory.) Still, more often than not, the funkier elements of Bundick’s electronic compositions shone through, as if Police or Stevie Wonder songs had been reformatted by Tim Hecker.