Like any artist bravely hosting shows during Taylor Swift's two-week reign over Toronto in November, Caribou's doubleheader this weekend (at Massey Hall and History, respectively) felt apart from the goings on of the world outside. Nonetheless, fans flocked to packed houses to catch Dan Snaith's electronic mastery in action, witnessing the first fully fledged local production of his Honey era.
Unlike his pandemic-times Suddenly tour, Honey's has been marked with a newfound sense of jubilance — melding the best sensibilities of Snaith's work as both Caribou (the sensitive and nostalgia-bearing indietronica monolith) and Daphni (the dancefloor maven backed by legions of Resident Advisor readers) for a euphoric combination resulting in his own Eras tour of sorts.
Fans of Swim, Our Love, and the aforementioned more recent works were paid fan service in spades, each getting their own chapters of the show. Double drumkits flanked the stage, with Snaith first indulging in the complementary percussion alongside Brad Weber (Pick a Piper) for Swim cut "Bowls," the musicians throwing arms as strobes temporarily blinded the audience, whose thrashing movements mirrored that of the concurrent performance. "Bowls" led into a deconstructed version of forever-classic "Odessa," resulting in approving yelps from the crowd — the first of many preemptive ovations to come.
Part rave, part arm-crossed nod-along, the History set was populated by an increasingly aging crowd; heading into a quarter-century of his recording career, Snaith has amassed a multi-generational hoard of fans — though the youngest among the crowd had to be approaching their 30s. Their stamina proving even more impressive on a Sunday night, the energetic among them packed themselves politely into the pit, dancing feverishly through "Our Love" and "Sun," with both tracks' repetitive hooks acting as a pulse for the bounding of toes on concrete.
Smiling bashfully, wearing his signature dadcore white tee and khakis, Snaith would pause the show between tracks to stand in stark white light, soaking in applause and people shouting "We love you Dan," his earnest appreciation for the sold-out venue written clearly on his face. This contrasted the heavy visual assault that would continue throughout the night — kaleidoscopic projections that formed kinetic fractals from simple geometry became shockingly profound metaphors for the songs at hand, while the aforementioned strobes disoriented to the point of near-hallucination.
Honey cuts would further dominated the setlist, with Snaith pushing oscillating renditions of "Volume," "Climbing," "Come Find Me," "Broke My Heart" and more to their sonic limits, hammering jammy latter-halves as often and as aggressively as possible. "Over Now" and its arpeggiated proggy synths were a highlight of the evening, as were the particularly heart-rending rendition of "Got to Change" and the hi-frequency trilling of "Honey."
The night concluded exactly where it should: with "Can't Do Without You." Now a decade old (oh, how time flies), the Our Love track never ceases to invoke an audience's most primal inclinations, shout-alongs and weeping included. Even those not privy to the previous night's setlist could tell its invocation signalled the end of the show, some making their way to the doors early but pausing on the steps to hear the song's ending.
The homecoming of Honey proved to be as healing as it was hype. A rarity among electronic music, Caribou's extensive catalogue feels as fresh today as each era did during their respective heydays. Snaith is still somehow riding a career peak, one he's been on since the mid-2000s. He's lucky to be gifted with such an enduring talent, of course, but we're bounds luckier that he's chosen to bring us along for the ride.