As documented on this eponymous album, the evolution of Circles Around the Sun isn’t wholly dissimilar from its roots. Originally conceived to create set break music for the 2015 Fare Thee Well concerts, the music on 2015’s Interludes for the Dead might hardly seem of a piece from that which fills this purposefully dance-oriented album. But, in its own way, it’s just as spacious and equally infectious (though slightly more aggressively so), as recorded and mixed by engineer Jim Scott (Wilco, Rolling Stones, Tom Petty) at his own studio in Valencia, CA.
This third CATS album is wholly in keeping with the growing confidence of the band (in contrast to the somewhat laissez-faire sophomore outing, appropriately titled Let It Wander) as well as the creative progression of its forebears. In 1978, music lovers in general and Grateful Dead-heads, in particular, were more than a little flummoxed by the disco-overtones of the title track on the Shakedown Street. But that inclusion made no less sense during that period than the expansion of style for Circles Around The Sun in this era of groove-oriented synth-pop and its many derivatives.
The opportunity to learn by working with the experienced likes of Scott shouldn’t be minimized either. The polish is as pronounced as the clarity in the sound when the metronomic drum machine on “Babyman” gives way to the rhythm section of bass and drums (which never call undue attention to themselves but might demonstrate a bit more panache at times). Over the course of those near six-minutes, as the late Neal Casal’s sleek guitar lines mix with the otherworldly tones Adam MacDougall coaxes from his battery of keyboards, the insistence at the heart of the musicianship never falters.
And that very steadiness only becomes more readily-discernible during the more languorous track that follows. If only by its title alone, “You Gotta Start Somewhere” is further evidence of the purpose and logic of CATS’ pursuit of a broadened style. But then there’s the wisdom of restricting the length of the seven cuts, including “Landline Memories,” to a range of five to seven minutes, so the production collaboration here between Dan Horne and the band itself deserves kudos in that respect.
The contrast between the deliberate and upbeat segments of “Detroit DOS” further demonstrates the creative/technical team is sufficiently knowledgeable about the distinction between studio and stage. The insertion of percussive pop at just the right point in this track-sequence, that is, the next to the last number called “Pete Jive,” works to positive effect, in part through its mesh with the vigorous syncopation of the clavinet. Thus wholly of a piece with it, “Money’s No Option,” concludes the record with a welcome sense of inevitability: the drum machine has never been so conspicuous since the opener.
Founder and titular leader Casal is prominent in the eye-opening layout of the poster enclosed with this LP and, notwithstanding how ego-less and deferential he plays on something like “Leaving (Rogue Lemon), that’s as it should be. His wish for the surviving bandmembers to carry on in the wake of his passing is a righteous one, all the more so as, prior to that tragedy and including this endeavor, Circles Around The Sun had established a foundation for itself too firm to leave behind. As suggested by this very record—and the group’s recent tour—the stability of that ground-work also left room for exploration that, in the long run, should continually maintain the novelty of its studio endeavors while rendering the group’s live shows comparably fresh.
