Dan Snaith has – in many ways – already won 2014. He put out a record that actually charted, he released a single that dominated the festival season like no other and he’s been decidedly, unashamedly happy ever since he embarked upon this voyage of Our Love. Now he’s comparing sales reports with Sam Smith and Barbara Streisand and the sweltering festival heat has been swapped for a bitterly cold Northern bite. He might appear hard to place but as a crowd full of (intermittently costumed) fans headed in to Store Street for Snaith’s co-curated night with Four Tet it was clear that he’s still right where he should be.
After Jessy Lanza’s set lacked the ignition to fire up the crowd, Caribou wasted no time by upping the ante and opening with Our Love, building layers upon layers of wonky synths and heavy drums into a colossal crescendo. It’s a formula that he deploys over and over again, each time as exhilarating as the one before. The riotous build-up, however, becomes addictive, resulting in some less cohesive moments when Second Chance and Your Love Will Set You Free pulled back the pace and left fans wanting another glimpse of his colourful euphoria.
This minor setback is, however, insignificant under the shadow of Caribou’s arsenal of phenomenal tracks. From the raw and animalistic Odessa to the Daphni-esque Mars, the tightness of the band provided maximum impact throughout the forceful rhythmic loops. Snaith’s wavering vocals, too, oozed a mixture of poignancy and warmth into the industrial setting, and lifted the refrain of Can’t Do Without You to palpable fever pitch. We’ve said it before and we’ll say it again; that song makes people really happy.
From then on, room one held us tightly within its grip. Four Tet unleashed a solid two hour set of thumping and sanguine tunes, dropping Battles’ Atlas mid set. Closing the night was the unrelenting Detroit techno mastery of Carl Craig who made the genius move of launching the theme from 2001: A Space Odyssey on an already wide-eyed clientele; no stranger to The Warehouse Project, his seamless blend of lustrous and bright cuts with muscly, machinist beats shifted up the intensity until the house lights rose, illuminating the elated faces of a crowd half covered in make up, face paint, fake blood and some who just looked like they were melting.
Within a setting so raw and industrial, an elated and celebratory vibe soaked Store Street. Caribou’s winning streak of boundless joy continues apace. For all we care he can host the BRIT Awards and do a range of tricolour blended t shirts for Primark so long as he makes room in the calendar for a room full of sweaty people who can share in the love and bask in the delight.