Dan Snaith, the man behind Caribou, is the winner of the 2008 Polaris Prize.Dan Snaith, the man behind Caribou, is the winner of the 2008 Polaris Prize. (Polaris Prize)

On Sept. 29, Dan Snaith — the Dundas, Ont.-born musician who performs under the name Caribou — was awarded the third annual Polaris Music Prize for his album Andorra, a collection of dreamy psychedelia-tinged electronic pop.

Though Snaith, who holds a doctorate in mathematics, currently resides in London, England, the soft-spoken sonic savant couldn't be more Canadian. Before naming himself after the regal beast whose head graces the quarter, Snaith was known as Manitoba. He put out several releases under the provincial moniker before American rocker Richard "Handsome Dick" Manitoba sued him for stealing his professional surname. Rather than wasting his time on legal battles, Snaith switched pseudonyms.

The name change has clearly had no effect on Caribou's popularity. Andorra, arguably Snaith's most accessible work to date, beat out a number of worthy releases by talented acts ranging from radio-friendly favourites Stars to dance-rock act Holy F--- to bearded Vancouver rock crew Black Mountain.

At the gala ceremony, a flabbergasted Snaith blinked back tears through his thick spectacles as he accepted a giant prop cheque. Unlike last year's winner, Patrick Watson, who joked about using the $20,000 prize to buy a "golden hot tub" and repair his band's van, Snaith claimed he couldn't imagine how to spend the money, short of saving up for a time when "space travel" becomes less expensive.

CBCNews.ca spoke to Snaith on the morning after the big night.

Q: Last night, you said you didn't know what you planned to do with your Polaris winnings, and wanted to sleep on it before making a decision. Did you have dreams about what you wanted to spend the money on?

A: I'm glad I said I needed to sleep on it, 'cause I didn't really sleep, so I have yet to do that. I do feel like I have a responsibility to really think about it. Obviously, I could do a lot of things and change a lot of things about the way I record and open a lot of possibilities that way, but it's a lot of money. I feel like I have a responsibility to think about it properly.

Q: Is there any recording gear you've been coveting, or any piece of equipment that could help you make that dream album that's been out of reach?

A: It's so funny. My whole life has been built around using terrible equipment and figuring out a way to make terrible equipment sound good. I don't go and, you know, look through the window of a proper recording studio and gaze at the mixing desk like, "Ooooh…"

Q: What's the most bargain-basement piece of gear you've used to help you win the $20,000 prize?

A: The thing that's turned up surprisingly often on my albums is a thing called a flutophone, which is made out of Bakelite. It's essentially a recorder, but it's even easier to play than a recorder for some reason. I mean, a recorder is the easiest instrument – that's what you learn in elementary school. But a flutophone can squeak up into a different octave. And the Bakelite one has kind of a more round tone. I end up wanting to use so many different "flute-y" kinds of sounds that it fills that niche. It's, like, a one-dollar instrument, but I kind of like that it's made out of Bakelite and is stuck in the time when it was made.

Caribou's winning album, Andorra.Caribou's winning album, Andorra. (FAB)

Q: When Andorra first came out, a lot of listeners talked about how it marked a shift into more conventional songwriting. Do you agree?

A: I always kind of thought that Andorra's probably the most conventional record I'll ever make, partly because it's influenced by the conventional end of the spectrum of the things I listen to. Saying that, I don't think I'll make a prepared piano and zither album or whatever. I really enjoyed the challenge of the whole new element of songwriting in terms of composition. It's something I will continue to do. I don't really have any perspective on what this all means. I've always just done what I wanted to do, and my albums have always changed drastically from one album to another. The fact that my fans have followed or whatever and have said, "Yeah, this is different, but I'm glad he's trying something different," even if they don't like it, that's always sort of confirmed for me that I should feel free to do what I want anyway. I think it's the only way that would be honest and make any sense to me. I'm just a music and sound nut and I just kind of follow my nose to what excites me.

One thing that I never really liked [about growing up] in the '90s [was that] pop music was really kind of taboo, and good production values were taboo. One of my favourite ideas about music is the Timbaland phenomenon, of really innovative music that sneaks these totally avant-garde elements into pop music that's totally ubiquitous on the radio. That was a real awakening, when I discovered his music and discovered the idea that being more pop doesn't necessarily mean being more watered down or boring or conventional. I don't see it being that simple a division between less popular/more interesting and more popular/less interesting. That doesn't always hold true.

Q: Some people claim that the Polaris short list doesn't really represent the diversity of music in Canada. A piece in the Globe and Mail this weekend talked about how the award seems to favour primarily non-pop, college radio-friendly music.

A: I actually think that's a strength. College radio is how I found out about lots of interesting music – a lot of it Canadian, actually – that I never would've heard anywhere else. To me, you shouldn't only be concerned with people doing creative things that will cross over to a mass audience. To me, that's not the idea of the arts at all. This provides a platform for 10 – but even more, 'cause the long list has 40 incredible albums on it – artists who wouldn't draw this level of attention otherwise. I think that's really valuable.

Q: Were you rooting for anyone on the Polaris long list who didn't make the cut for the short list?

A: [Snaith unzips his jacket to reveal a Born Ruffians shirt.] It's not a political statement that I'm wearing a Born Ruffians shirt right now – I just wear one probably every three days or something. We spent a lot of this year touring with them and I've grown to love them as friends. And every time I see them play or hear their music, I'm more and more impressed with them, especially because they're so young and their music is so developed and incredible. I'm a big fan.

Q: Does your background as a mathematician play into the music you create?

A: Not directly, anyway. There's no mathematics in the music. But I think my personality is probably why I've ended up doing these two things – I'm a nerd, but a nerd who's interested in any kind of ideas. I love science, the arts, literature, whatever. People's ideas fascinate me, and that's something that isn't communicated very well in a kind of mathematical high school education. But the elegance of mathematical ideas through history and the elegance in the same way in the ideas of Bach or Timbaland or whatever — those things that are intangible but very beautiful and elegant, I think that's what's common to both [music and mathematics].

Q:Being a mathematician, did you try to calculate your odds of winning the Polaris at any point?

A: [Laughs.] I was fairly certain that I had about a zero per cent chance of winning. I didn't rationally go through some calculation or anything, I was just like, "That's absurd – of course I'm not gonna win." It was at the [pre-gala] press conference that I became terrified and really like a deer in the headlights. [Laughs.] A couple people started saying to me [that I'd win], and I was like, "You must be saying that to everybody you're interviewing." I couldn't believe it.

Sarah Liss writes about the arts for CBCNews.ca.