Caribou

Dan Snaith wears his love like heaven. The Canadian artist formerly known as Manitoba and who now records as Caribou continues a sincerely touching evolution on his latest, a gorgeously conceived evocation of paisley popcraft, a 1960s flashback that charms on several levels.

Snaith, a fellow traveler with the likes of Prefuse 73 and Four Tet, brings an encyclopedic touch to the studio and the laptop. It’s that sense of cultural depth that makes a song like “Eli” instantly appealing, pulling together hints and motifs from rainbow-dappled ’60s pop—part garage, part lava lamp—to create a tapestry of flickering neopsychedelia. What puts it over the top is Snaith’s decision to plant himself behind the microphone. His airy vocals, multitracked into gossamer harmonies, signal a passion that is infectious.

The tilt of the project isn’t merely academic record-collector geekism: It’s all about true love. And it’s most true on “Desiree,” where Snaith pulls out all the stops: harps, strings, flutes, full-blown Beach Boys chorales. The technical dazzle is impressive, yet it’s what you can feel in Snaith’s voice that makes it special. Though he’s not a particularly notable singer, there’s something in his achy wispiness that’s brave and real.

We’ll admit, this all kind of snuck up on us, since Andorra overlaps sonic territory pretty much strip-mined by acts like Stereolab, Fennesz and even Beck, whose entire career has been an act of reappropriation. Luckily, Snaith is smart enough to make complex music that sounds simple, irony-free and straight from the heart.

Caribou plays Metro November 8.