Engaging smart pop, filled with literate twists and turns and inventive instrumentation, feels like an odd thing to emerge from the Washington DC scene, but The Caribbean speak to an educated audience with a fantastic record collection that inhabits the offices of any city. What Pitchfork described as “the folk music of the new American service economy” is a pretty brilliant take on the band’s approach. Instantly familiar, thanks to a deft ear for melody, the tunes constantly shift and morph around clever lyrics about everything from city planning to religion to simple heartbreak.
“The D.C. band wraps its tales of modern life in a musical cocktail that arranges piles of instruments into a constantly shifting mix. Guitars, marimbas, beatboxes, banjos, drums, violins, and accordions share air with turntables, radios and samplers, which add a touch of modern glitch to the otherwise smooth, spacious arrangements. The band keeps a roomy sound that comes across like an alternate-universe Death Cab. Michael Kentoff's soft, Ira Kaplan-ish vocals wander through these elements like one person through a towering city, as if awed by everything they see and hoping not to get lost.” – Pitchfork