Caribou, the performance name of the Dundas, Ontario, composer/musician Dan Snaith, has seen a few changes in its lifetime (not unlike Snaith himself, who has performed under such other monikers as Manitoba and Daphni). It would be superfluous to run through them all, but one of the most intriguing shifts is the one from the 2007 Polaris Prize–winning Andorra to his most recent work, Our Love (Merge Records). The neo-psychedelia of Andorra, with all of its swirling, Beatles-esque psych-pop, preceded the likes of Tame Impala. Our Love is, simply, sparser, but even with fewer ingredients, the album still resonates.

Instrumentally, Our Love has a clearer connection to 2010’s Swim, but that’s where the similarity to Caribou’ past work end. On both records, Snaith toys with repetition to craft emotional, deep house music, however, Our Love is far less bombastic by comparison. Indeed, the record is considerably subdued; its basslines are muted and its breakbeats are limited. Snaith emits warm hues from his synth, while moments of true exhilaration are few. When such furor does appear (the second half of “Our Love,” “Julia Brightly”), it is translated tastefully. As such, Our Love’s minimalist approach is the electronic equivalent to that of a singer-songwriter and frequently a study in nuance rather than dancefloor grooves. Fittingly, Snaith’s lyrics have become a key compositional component. Though not lush in language, Our Love offers lovelorn, heartbroken lyricism, most noticeably on the excellent opener “Can’t Do Without You.” The song’s title serves as lyrical refrain that becomes inextricable from the song’s wobbly, yet swift, tempo. It bears an almost anthemic quality, with a pressing urgency that make the loss seem all the more dramatic. Elsewhere, Jessy Lanza offers a formidable voice for “Second Chance,”a traditionally structured song that is pretty much about what the title suggests. Evocative of ’80s synth balladry, “Back Home” is a weary, love-lost track, with Snaith asking, “Where did it all go wrong?” at its climax.

Though Caribou’s overarching aesthetic remains intact, Our Love is a conceptually drearier record than prior releases. The songs may not ask for empathy, though they do cast a line of heartstrings to pull in the listener. Should you not feel the solemn emotion Our Love offers, though, Snaith has made sure it is also musically compelling as ever.