Real big fish

When we reach Dan Snaith—the man behind indie-folk-tronic project Caribou—on his cell phone, he’s in Europe, traveling with his band. They’ve just crossed the border from the Czech Republic after a show in Prague and are heading to Austria to perform in Vienna. “We’ve just been to Russia and Poland, and we’re going to the former Yugoslavia in the next couple days,” Snaith says. “Before coming to [Chicago], we’re going to China, Korea and Japan.”

Waist deep in a world tour for his new album, Swim, Snaith—who records solo but tours with a band—headlines Millennium Park Monday 12 and then deejays an after-party at Beauty Bar. The LP, Snaith’s fifth, sees him broadening his sonic palette from the ’60s pop, psychedelia and krautrock that were clear reference points on 2007’s critically adored Andorra and reining in the post-electronic indie sounds of his earlier records.

“It collects everything I’ve thought about or done before and then adds something new,” says the 31-year-old multi-instrumentalist. The newness Snaith refers to comes from the record’s heavier dance vibe. Though it’s not a club record by any means, the techno and breaks rhythms that Snaith pairs with his intricate song structures and moody pop melodies lend it increased appeal. The crowds at his shows have taken note; he says attendance is better than ever.

Given Swim’s shift in sound, it still represents Caribou well. “The liquidity concept was a big part of that,” Snaith explains. “The expectation of dance music is that it is very rigid, metallic sounding and crisp. I like the idea of everything floating around in an ethereal way but still with rhythmic elements referencing dance music.” Feeling as if he’d done all there was to do with his rock influences, but still wanting to keep his songwriting aesthetic, Snaith turned to the challenge of giving dance music the emotional resonance that makes his previous work so memorable.

Snaith completed a Ph.D. in mathematics from Imperial College London in 2005, and scientific curiosity is in his blood; both his father and sister hold degrees in mathematics as well. While this may help explain his drive to dissect different genres, he doesn’t let his songs sound cold or calculating. “[Mathematics] will always be a large part of my life, but on the other hand, I don’t make music in a very rational or planned way,” Snaith says. “Most importantly it’s about making me feel something. If people didn’t know I had a mathematics Ph.D., I don’t know that anyone would think that based on the music.”

Growing up in London, Ontario—halfway between Detroit and Toronto—the sandy-blond studio whiz studied piano as a kid, but it wasn’t until a teacher enlightened him on composition and improvisation that his obsession really took root. When he was 14, a friend’s older brother introduced him to Richie Hawtin and the techno sounds emanating from Detroit. “That was a real challenge for me, thinking wait a minute, all these things I’ve been taught to value about music are not the same things that electronic music values at all,” Snaith explains. “It seemed like all of a sudden, recording music was accessible, and that’s why I started making music in an electronic way and still do.”

His earliest records were released under the name Manitoba, but a lawsuit forced the change to Caribou in 2004. Unfazed, Snaith has continued to fill in the gap that’s traditionally existed between rock and electronic music. “I live somewhere in between,” he says. “That’s why I’ve been able to make albums that seem different from one another but are all in that space.” Now, with the lines more blurred than ever and indie-electronica dominating as the cool sound, Snaith is at the height of his career. “I always knew I was able to make music and that’s what I wanted to do, but it seems so impossible when you’re a teenager,” he says. “It took me awhile to come to terms that this is really happening.”

Caribou performs at Millennium Park and then deejays Beauty Bar on Monday 12.

• More Clubs articles