Everyone knows the story by now; the Russian Futurists were detained at the Canadian/American border on the way to their show in Minneapolis due to issues with their visa paperwork. Unfortunately for me, that Minneapolis concert was the day before the Chicago show I had been hotly anticipating for months, meaning what had been my Lineup of the Year had been downgraded to Lineup of the Week, if that, since two bands does not much of a lineup make. Sigh- what a Canadian electronic pop extravaganza this was to be!

After wiping the tears from my cheeks and putting on my happy face, I made my way over to the dank, poorly ventilated, and non-air-conditioned Empty Bottle to see what remained of the show. Forty-five minutes after the purported start time and drenched in sweat, I still managed to find the energy to sway to the beats of the Junior Boys, whose debut album Last Exit was one of my favorites of 2004. They don’t do a whole lot on stage; Jeremy Greenspan played guitar, sang in his oh-so-smooth voice, and sort of bounced around on stage a little awkwardly, while keyboardist/electronics guru Matt Didemus just stared up at the ceiling and smoked his cigarette disaffectedly, refusing to take off his hooded sweatshirt even though the temperature had to be 90+ degrees. They started off with a new song I hadn’t heard, which was enjoyable, if not a bit slow. After my favorite Junior Boys song, “Teach Me How to Fight,” the Boys kicked it into dancing gear with “Bellona,” “Birthday,” and “Under the Sun,” all from Last Exit. The band had a nice stage presence, and it would be interesting to see them try to add more live instrumentation into future shows; I’d love to find out what sort of experimentation they could pull off with their delicate waves of sound and lush dance beats.

Caribou's set, meanwhile, made me incredibly glad I've gotten into the habit of wearing earplugs to shows (a habit that began after I started getting a weird clicking in my left ear, which has since stopped, thank goodness). Dan Snaith, the mastermind behind Caribou/Manitoba, brought along guitarist Ryan Smith and drummer Peter Mitton to complete his live show while Snaith himself traded between acoustic guitar, keyboards, recorder, and a second set of drums which he tore apart like a maniac. The one thing glaringly missing from the lineup? Live vocals- only once did Snaith put the vocal track on pause to sing a song himself. Though I suppose it’s understandable when you’re trying to play five instruments at once that the vocals would not be a priority.

If I were to sum up this show in one word, it would be: DRUMS. Every time Snaith and second drummer Peter Mitton kicked off a song together, I just about jumped out of my skin; the drums were really brought to the forefront of each song, and it made for an exciting, if not incredibly loud, performance. Meanwhile, the video that streamed throughout the show behind the band actually served to enhance, rather than distract from, the performance- this was probably because the projector shined directly over the band, serving almost as another system of lighting rather than a video we were actually supposed to be watching.

Songs from The Milk of Human Kindness were the focus of Caribou’s set, unsurprisingly, and the fun of the show came from watching Dan Snaith racing around the stage from instrument to instrument, ensuring no small sound be spared. Who knew the recorder played such a large role in Caribou’s music? After leaving the stage (and the venue) for a few short minutes, Caribou returned to wrap things up with a glorious ten-minute version of “Every Time She Turns Around It’s Her Birthday,” an apt choice to wrap up such an intense show.

However, I must say that the music was not, in fact, the most striking part of the night. No, that designation goes to Dan Snaith’s accent, the thickest, most glorious Canadian drawl I have ever heard. Go Canada, yeah!