At its best, Honey shows why Snaith has had such a fruitful career: he is masterful at building buoyant songs where all its components work in step, striking an emotional chord that few can.

Producer Dan Snaith goes by many names, but it’s been a few years since we’ve heard from his more pop-leaning project, Caribou. Snaith wears many masks, but on Honey it’s clear that these different parts of himself have a distinct effect on the others. Having focused more energy on the more dance-oriented Daphni project, his latest offering serves up a potent mix of atmospheric but melodic dance tunes, as well as incorporating more vocals with surprisingly well-crafted songwriting. Honey seems a logical progression of Caribou’s artistry, and Snaith’s attempt at balancing these different parts of himself hits more than it misses, but in the end lacks the depth of his previous work. 

Since the moody notes of his debut, Snaith has been experimenting with the newest available toys. With Honey, one major tool he’s deployed is the use of AI to distort and alter his vocals. As Snaith has increasingly incorporated his own voice into his music, he grows increasingly frustrated with the limits of his vocal capability. With that in mind, he employs AI to help reach the notes and melodies he has in his mind. Using such a contentious technical tool on such a major release is undoubtedly a big deal, begging the question of how effective AI can be. There are definite highs with its use, ‘Broke My Heart’ is a jolty, tight dance track, and the vocals switch from robotic in the vocal hook to breathy in the verse. Snaith is clearly able to use this tool to suit his vocals to whatever is needed at any point in the song. Similarly, ‘Do Without You’ features trademark euphoric chord progressions and bright synth risers, while still allowing the altered vocals to reach places and shine in ways that Snaith definitely doesn’t believe it can naturally. Lyrically, it contrasts with lines of romantic frustration and yearning. This combination marks one of the highlights on the record, where Snaith seamlessly melds his dance persona with Caribou’s more jubilant leanings. Another peak follows immediately after with ‘Come Find Me’, with a bold four-on-the-floor drum loop and syncopated metal percussion, all building into these stretched synth arpeggios. Lead single ‘Honey’ is similarly inspired by Snaith’s more dance-focused persona. It’s heavy on the bass, constantly pulsing with shuffling snares, and broken up with short vocal breaks. Kieran Hebden, better known under the moniker Four Tet, helps with the arrangement of this track, and its effective use of negative space to build tension and fuel release is immediately apparent. 

Honey at times feels like an exercise in repetition. When it works, Snaith brings something fresh to rejuvenate the listener with every go around. However when it falters, its results are unfortunately quite bland. ‘Over Now’ has a vaguely city-pop beat, and even a fun synth solo on the back end, but it can’t help but feel repetitive when the rhythms remain fairly stationary. Tracks ‘Campfire’ and closer ‘Got To Change’ take this approach quite literally, with Snaith interpolating his own vocals from earlier in the record. The former falls quite flat, with the minor key 8-bit keyboard synths not really doing enough to lift the sample from what we’ve already heard, and the various instrumentation added on only make the track sound more disjointed. The latter is slightly more effective, and Snaith adds his signature touch of optimistic risers and shiny chords to elevate the sample. On ‘Only You’, the mixture of more organic vocals and AI distorted ones serve more to highlight the emptiness in the AI reproduction than any substantive effort to push Snaith’s vocals somewhere unique. It’s unfortunate too, because the track bears some of the most vast-sounding soundscapes, especially in its final section. 

With as much as Snaith chops and changes his own vocals, on ‘Volume’ he samples the classic MAARS track ‘Pump Up The Volume’. With a simple 1-2 drumbeat and pitched up arpeggios from the original synth pads, coupled with his own altered vocals, Snaith creates something completely new, showing his penchant for stripping tracks back and building them back up entirely different. ‘Climbing’ uses a disco-funk influence in a playful way, with glittering arpeggios and a lively synth lead that really pushes the track into another gear. It places you right on the dance floor and has no intention of pulling you out. 

Snaith’s career spans over two decades, and throughout that time he has constantly tried to evolve and adapt. With Honey, he’s attempting to disstill so many of his influences and musical memories into one record, while using AI vocal effects that he hopes delivers a more satisfying punch. Unfortunately, this approach leads to a record that is at times disjointed and favours experimentation at the expense of a cohesive direction. But at it’s best, it shows why Snaith has had such a fruitful career: he is masterful and building buoyant songs where all its components work in step, and when everything comes together he still has the ability to strike an emotional chord that few can.