For all the more overt moves Dan Snaith has made toward the dance floor on his last two albums as Caribou, it's in his work as Daphni where the artist really gets down. Particularly fruitful recent years have seen Snaith expand the dance dimensions of his club-oriented moniker in much bolder, brighter fashion, and new disc Cherry — the third Daphni full-length to arrive during October, five years after its predecessor — continues that growth.
Both Cherry and its 2017 forerunner Joli Mai have their roots in a most excellent FabricLive mix album Snaith released via the nightclub's label that year, collecting 22 then-unreleased tracks and four edits for what ended up being a consummate preview of his sophomore Daphni LP. While Joli Mai's compositions demonstrated a darker, weightier drum-forward approach, sounds much lighter and sweeter by comparison are found at Cherry's pit.
Two inclusions recognizable to those familiar with the FabricLive mix make that much clear. "Always There" — remaining one of the best of the bushel — winds itself up with a humorous, sped-up horn lead, subtly hinting at the pumping groove it drops into around the halfway mark. "Fly Away," which takes wing on an urgent, looping piano figure that plays like a raved-up relative of Caribou's "Never Come Back," once again finding itself perfectly placed as the closer, raising the stakes with additional synths and propulsive drums until it blasts clear into the filtered ether.
Cherry bursts with sugary melody made more pronounced by considered yet largely unobtrusive drum patterns. Opener "Arrow" is off like a shot, but led more by its soft, bouncing bells and intermittent vocal stabs than its steady kick and trilling hi-hat. "Clavicle," guided by similarly gentle timbres, sees its percussion quieted every so often for some twinkling topline, while the glimmering keys of the title track grip one's attention with their unbalanced lilt and subtle chorus swells more than the brisk, shifting drums alongside.
If the draw isn't what Snaith is looping or chording, it's how these sounds are treated. The muted kick and bitcrushed snare of "Crimson" are buried beneath its heavily filtered synth sequence and crescendo of keys, and the drums of "Mania" are similarly outshone by the animated tones in lower and higher registers. "Falling" is perhaps the biggest tease of all, with each pass of its swirling filter all too briefly revealing a passional groove.
More rhythmic reasons to move are found in the disco inferno of "Take Two," where Snaith occasionally lets auxiliary percussion and the drums of his tightly cut sample out to play amongst its quickened house beat, and in how the rhythm section of "Cloudy" bumps alongside its cascading piano loop. Where the drums of Joli Mai were, more often than not, ready to roll one over at any given point, Cherry blossoms as a listen worth savouring as Daphni's melodious detail leads the dance.
(Independent)Both Cherry and its 2017 forerunner Joli Mai have their roots in a most excellent FabricLive mix album Snaith released via the nightclub's label that year, collecting 22 then-unreleased tracks and four edits for what ended up being a consummate preview of his sophomore Daphni LP. While Joli Mai's compositions demonstrated a darker, weightier drum-forward approach, sounds much lighter and sweeter by comparison are found at Cherry's pit.
Two inclusions recognizable to those familiar with the FabricLive mix make that much clear. "Always There" — remaining one of the best of the bushel — winds itself up with a humorous, sped-up horn lead, subtly hinting at the pumping groove it drops into around the halfway mark. "Fly Away," which takes wing on an urgent, looping piano figure that plays like a raved-up relative of Caribou's "Never Come Back," once again finding itself perfectly placed as the closer, raising the stakes with additional synths and propulsive drums until it blasts clear into the filtered ether.
Cherry bursts with sugary melody made more pronounced by considered yet largely unobtrusive drum patterns. Opener "Arrow" is off like a shot, but led more by its soft, bouncing bells and intermittent vocal stabs than its steady kick and trilling hi-hat. "Clavicle," guided by similarly gentle timbres, sees its percussion quieted every so often for some twinkling topline, while the glimmering keys of the title track grip one's attention with their unbalanced lilt and subtle chorus swells more than the brisk, shifting drums alongside.
If the draw isn't what Snaith is looping or chording, it's how these sounds are treated. The muted kick and bitcrushed snare of "Crimson" are buried beneath its heavily filtered synth sequence and crescendo of keys, and the drums of "Mania" are similarly outshone by the animated tones in lower and higher registers. "Falling" is perhaps the biggest tease of all, with each pass of its swirling filter all too briefly revealing a passional groove.
More rhythmic reasons to move are found in the disco inferno of "Take Two," where Snaith occasionally lets auxiliary percussion and the drums of his tightly cut sample out to play amongst its quickened house beat, and in how the rhythm section of "Cloudy" bumps alongside its cascading piano loop. Where the drums of Joli Mai were, more often than not, ready to roll one over at any given point, Cherry blossoms as a listen worth savouring as Daphni's melodious detail leads the dance.