There was a time when I truly believed every psychedelic album would be a masterpiece. I extensively copied the appendix of a book on psychedelic music that listed every important psychedelic album to their knowledge. Unfortunately, musical categories are never as simple as psychedelic=good. At the time I copied that list, if there was a psychedelic album that I didn’t like, the problem lay with me; I just wasn’t “getting” it.
Still, whenever I hear descriptions of a psychedelic record I tend to look forward to listening to it, hoping it will send me into ecstatic rapture; the way good psychedelic music should—making you feel like you're on drugs without being on drugs. And even when such an album doesn’t sink in that way at first, I so want that experience that I’m willing to give it more of a chance than most other genres of music.
Such has been the process with this debut album from Circulus. Tracks like “My Body Is Made of Sunlight,” “Aphid,” and “Swallow” is music I’ve been waiting to hear: eerie, yet transcendent psych-folk that really sends me into a trance. But elsewhere, the sonic palette, which also includes some real deft and subtle use of electronics, can not support the “Renaissance Fair” nature of the of the lyrics that mirror the somewhat ridiculous images of the band in period clothing marching through the forest or hanging out in a bog. I’m shaken from my inner space journey by lyrics that shout “power to the pixies” or are so precious, musing with incredible earnestness, “candlelight, the most beautiful thing, ever.” While I think Irish music could be mixed nicely with psychedelia, if it’s not done subtly enough, I come crashing down to Earth in the middle of an Irish jig. Unfortunately, this happens frequently in a Circulus song, transporting me to far off places one second and leading me to a ridiculous moment the next.
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Ahhh... how well I can relate to the process of personal growth you spoke of regarding psychedelic albums. For me I would expand that experience to all "great", "classic", "influential" or "groundbreaking" albums - I would convince myself to like them, and I guess I did on an academic level - although a more appropriate verb would be that I "appreciated" them. Maybe there's nothing wrong with that approach to music, maybe it's just as legit. But my personal transformation has lead me to largely dismiss relating to music in an overly objective way.
The Circulus album was just as you said: ample periods of beautiful, chaotic reverie (thanks in large part to the free electronic sounds) but painfully frequent pop-ins from those annoying medieval jesters!
Thanks for reviewing such an obscure album, I never would have known it existed - very interesting listening experience, flaws and all. And kudos for getting past the abominable album art!
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