(t5!) Heroes Of The Zeroes Albums: #22: Manitoba – Up In Flames (2003)

Dan Snaith is one of the most significant heroes of the zeroes, but you’ll probably never see his name in the local record store. His discography is probably split between two names: Caribou, his moniker during the second half of the decade which the name he released The Milk Of Human Kindness and Andorra with, and Manitoba, his moniker that he came out with, with which he released the debut Start Breaking My Heart and the wonderful Up In Flames.

If we’re going to judge our musical favorites based on their curriculum vitae and education, then Dan Snaith is more than qualified to be atop this list: proficient in piano, as well as guitar, recorder, melodica, and glockenspiel; a Canadian who calls Dundas, Ontario his hometown; a resident of London, Ontario where he received his PhD in advanced mathematics. But if you assumed that his background in math influences his production, then one listen to his music, especially the ones in Up In Flames, will refute your theory. This is an album by an intelligent musician enthralled by tinkering with sound. He once mentioned in an interview “the bits [he’s] always happiest with are the accidents”. Well, it’s no accident that this sophomore release is an exhibition of exquisite disorder, a lovely chaos of organic instruments and electronic elements.

Up In Flames also shows an artist who is an adherent of different styles of music. Snaith has compiled his inspirations, chopped them up into tasty morsels, and arranged it back together in a new and indescribable mixture. We have here the reverie haze of shoegaze, the rhythmic chaos of IDM artists like Aphex Twin and cut-and-paste geniuses like DJ Shadow, the convoluted ambience of Tortoise, the electronic preciousness of Four Tet, and the succinct vocal blending of The Beach Boys. In “Bijoux”, we see a shower of jewelry box notes before being bombarded by panicky percussions and a sliding clarinet. In “Hendrix With KO”, we see dashing drums in a blender with cascading harps, and ending with meticulous handclaps. Snaith’s buh-buh-buh’sIn the precious “Crayon”, we see a glockienspiel in an orgy with a jovial beat, laser sounds, a child’s laughter and a dog barking.

Up In Flames is filled with so many ingredients and it’s organized with no rhyme or reason that it’s hard to see Dan Snaith as an artist who knows exactly what he’s doing, even if he is a PhD. A great deal of fabulous records from this decade is so diligently put together and carefully planned. Up In Flames is created out of instincts and from spur-of-the-moment epiphanies, almost like the work of a jazz musician or an abstract painter. I can’t even imagine how Manitoba/Caribou would sound live because I would think that because of the orchestration here are so random, it’d be difficult to recreate.