There is absolutely no reason why any open-minded contemporary prog (or indeed, general ‘rock’) fan should not approach this with confidence. It’s a work of restrained and disciplined class – lend it your ear.
A little context before we get into this one, for there must surely be many who are unaware of just who CIRCU5 are, what the meaning behind the rather odd name (it’s pronounced ‘Circa-five’, and always capitalised) might be, and just how their two albums thus far – separated by a small gulf of years in between them – hang together and create a frame for the band’s music. And, make no mistake, a ‘band is very much what CIRCU5 are now – while the debut album was practically a solo album by the man behind the whole project, guitarist and keyboard man Steve Tilling, he has now been joined by the rhythm section of Mark Kilminster and Lee Moulding, giving the whole thing a more unified and organic feel. Despite the eight years or so between the two albums, this sophomore effort is nonetheless a direct continuation conceptually from its forerunner, so without getting too bogged down in minutiae, let’s cast a quick eye over the overriding narrative behind the albums – and indeed, that band name – which comes directly from the central organisation in the story.
Simply put, CIRCU5 are not good guys. A shadowy and plausibly deniable government agency existing on the very fringes of legality, their stock in trade is manipulation of people, almost from birth, via mind control techniques to create a sort of ‘malleable psychopath’ by the time adulthood is reached, able to be controlled and manipulated to act with ruthless efficiency in whatever way is required. The ‘five’ is significant in its reference to five individuals behind the project. The first album (simply titled CIRCU5) introduced us to one of these experimental subjects who we know as ‘Grady’, and his rebellion and eventual escape from the group’s clutches. If you’re familiar with that album, you’ll know this, and appreciate how immersive the conceptual side of it was. Clockwork Tulpa (a ‘Tulpa’ being a Buddhist idealised vision of a materialised being, lest you thought it was another ‘Siberian Khatru’ type of invention!) continues things from the point of escape, seeing our anti-hero Grady going from out of the metaphorical frying pan into the fire as he falls in with a rebel group of ex-CIRCU5 subjects – the CIRCU5 Freaks – who aim to destroy their erstwhile taskmasters. This is clearly not going to end well, and with Grady pressured to become a sort of Tommy-esque messiah figure for the group, we follow the chaotic fallout. This is difficult to grasp merely from the lyrics – which are finely nuanced so as not to be a direct narrative, and therefore be able to exist independent of the story – but the CD package does contain a handy set of notes relating to each song on a foldout insert which is invaluable. So much for the concept, but what of the music, and how it stands up alone?
Happily – for this is a crucial point for this sort of full-fat heavy-conceptual kind of work – the songs here can easily be appreciated without knowledge of the story binding them together. It is true that they gain more weight and significance when that is taken into account, but it’s not critical. Which is something that has worked out well for things such as The Wall, with not only that huge single, but also the likes of Comfortably Numb, Run Like Hell and One Of My Turns being familiar to millions who have no interest in the fortunes of the hapless ‘Pink’. The ten tracks here are all concisely structured (only one breaks the six minute barrier), and yet contain plenty of satisfying musical complexity and ambition while married to an ostensibly easily approachable appearance. Illustrating this dichotomy perfectly is the opening Make No Sound, which almost comes across as some sort of unholy hybrid of Gentle Giant and Blink-182 – should such a creation not be deemed an abomination against accepted musical norms that is. The tricky musical sliding blocks operate almost covertly beneath a veneer of jubilant, energetically infectious sound. It’s a very neat trick indeed to pull off successfully, as it is here. Elsewhere there are more examples of that – albeit reined in – Gentle Giant-esque musical trickery, while tracks such as Skin Machine and the magnificently proggily titled Infinite Lucid Geometric Fever Dream (try saying that three times quickly) bear more than a hint of the pop-prog quirkiness of XTC (a band with which Steve Tilling does share connections). For prog traditionalists, who might not be hopelessly lost to the old symphonic formulae but yet crave something a little more expansive, the final two tracks may scratch their itch most precisely. The multi-faceted Don’t Spare Me is the most overtly and defiantly ‘prog’ track here, almost the sound of an album freeing itself from its chains and announcing its identity loudly to the world, while the elegantly triumphant sound of the closing Scars ends things on a proper old-school ‘big finish’, complete with some grandstanding guitar work.
That’s the nuts and bolts of the album, but to me the potential impact of this release is to be gained by looking at it as a whole, and the way it simply and wilfully subverts classification or pigeon-holing. The thing is. to my mind, and I would be surprised if it were me alone, the mainstream media, and particularly TV, have not taken so-called ‘progressive rock’ music seriously for what seems like an age. Sneered at by our would-be arbiters of taste, it is routinely patronised as a home for middle-aged men carrying dog-eared copies of Lord Of The Rings around in their great-coat pockets, and containing mandatory flute solos and multi-part suites based on Alice Through The Looking Glass. Now, while that admittedly does sound like a band I’d go to see, we know very well that ‘prog’ is such a broad church that to be written off in such a way is patently absurd, with only the occasional Steven Wilson album afforded a first, let alone second, glance. For a prog, or even prog-adjacent band to turn up on Jools Holland, it would have to be not so much ‘Later with…’ as ‘At the end of time with…’, and every variety or talk show featuring a musical guest will inevitably wheel out the latest hand-picked ‘indie’ flavour of the month, delivering three minutes of decisive style over substance. This is where this album could, and should, come in.
Put simply, if ever the wonderful music being produced under the contemporary ‘prog’ umbrella needed a media ‘Trojan Horse’ it is now, and the way these songs parade their substantial foundations beneath a public-facing sheen of accessible, melodic modern rock styling is perfect. This is material which, to those attuned to its influences and subtleties, contains much that you can get your teeth satisfactorily into, while for those whose ears are unaccustomed to the tricky embellishments of the King Crimsons or Gentle Giants of this world will most likely just hear the surface impression of a band which fits their own agenda nicely. Put simply, this is almost a sub-genre of ‘indie-prog’, but where the – unsatisfyingly yet unavoidably termed – ‘indie’ rock bands are often built on foundations of quicksand, as demonstrated by a rapid fall from favour, this music bears similarities and yet is constructed upon a bedrock of five or six decades of substantial and often brilliant music. And that is what should grant it its longevity of appeal and yet also open some snobbishly locked doors with its public face. Of course, none of this might transpire, but if ever prog does get a foothold in the mainstream media again, one is tempted to think that something like this could be in the vanguard.
To leave such generalised visions, and sum things up, if you liked the first CIRCU5 album, you’ll most certainly want this. Likewise, if you like this, you’ll want to backtrack – the identity of the unifying concept is so strong. Even the physical media – in the form of a handsomely matching hardback-book style package for each album – lends appropriate gravitas. The name is something which could be a double edged sword – on the one hand, it is a big plus to have a distinct and unusual name which stands out, and this ticks that box hugely, whereas on the other hand, in these internet-driven times, if someone is told about the band, doing a search may prove futile if the spelling is not clearly pointed out. For the moment though, there is absolutely no reason why any open-minded contemporary prog (or indeed, general ‘rock’) fan should not approach this with confidence. It’s a work of restrained and disciplined class – lend it your ear.
What a marvellously well written review!