Reviewed by Thomas Needham
Released on 01/03/25
Plastic Circus have released their long-anticipated debut EP, Circus Freaks. My thoughts are varied, yet I’m not underwhelmed. I’m excited. The first thing that struck me was the album cover; while in theory a striking idea, it fails on several fronts. Firstly it doesn’t fit the aspect ratio and has been haphazardly copy and pasted to fill the dead space, repeating the picture twice bloates the focus which should be solely on the band. For a group that oozes personal charm, it’s a real oversight not to embrace that. The red-black combination is garish and feels inappropriate for an album far lighter than that kind of colour scheme would suggest. The text, too small and wide-spread, means vital information easily slips you by; the cover is so busy yet it conveys so little. In the age of the internet a band’s online presence, aesthetics and release material have never been so important. Artists have virtually no time to capture an audience’s attention let alone their imaginations, for better or worse, today a band’s style is just as important as their music.
This is all a shame considering the back cover image is absolutely acceptable for a cover; not only is it better composed but it harkens back to the quaint abstractions of 90s Britain with the colour and life drained from the image. It’s both a better reflection of the band and the state of contemporary guitar music in modern Britain that I hope bands like Plastic Circus can change. It’s good this isn’t a graphic design publication because the real substance of the EP is, of course, the music.
Eazy Rider is a jaunty opener, best described as the essence of bands like Creedence Clearwater Revival constructed in a tube. Plastic Circus replaces the roguish Californian naturality with a more artificial, yet methodically curated, all-encompassing Brit-pop sound. Unlike the reckless abandon and carefree, low-budget psychedelia it harkens back to, Eazy Rider and more widely the entire EP is more structured, rigid and less willing to take risks – sonically cleaner but plainly sanitised and professional.
Guitar music isn’t exactly in vogue these days and that’s because little is done to push the boundaries, to re-energise and re-entice audiences who long ago gave up on electronic noise and the once seemingly endless summer of Cool Britannia, Knebworth ‘96, pints priced at just over £1, the Battle of Britpop and Fukayama’s ‘End of History’. We may be of the moment in which we live, but people yearn for the ‘good times’, when we at least kept up the appearance of a functioning country. Sadly, imbuing your work with such an aesthetic feels hollow; something borrowed, rather than something new.
The harmonies provided by bassist Dylan Kane are incredibly Oasis. The catchy riff, often jumping to and fro by the song’s conclusion, as if it’s been sampled, provides enough variety and experimentation to keep the listener alert. The rhythm laid down by Kane and drummer Joe Heathcote are much better pronounced on this song than later in the record, unabated and persistent, the song is constantly hurtling forward and its even more hypnotic live (gig review). The jumpy pre-chorus after the soaring solo too gives the song an extra layer that certain tracks fail to replicate. Perhaps Eazy Rider with time will be emblematic of the rest of the EP – it’s certainly grown on me since its release as a single so I hold out hope that eventually Circus Freaks will do the same. At the moment, despite dedicated listening it feels like the record is incredibly front-loaded, with the most intricate and interesting songs placed to entice listeners before eventually petering out.
Love and Roses was a highly anticipated track for me personally. After hearing the original acoustic demo released over two years ago, it’s clear to see how much the band has matured, I have no qualm in saying it supplants Eazy Rider as Plastic Circus’ best song so far. Dan Hazzell’s vocals have become fuller, more powerful and more confident since that demo’s release and the lyricism shows a competence that needs to be better explored in earnest. The neurons in my monkey brain immediately activated when I heard the repeated use of ‘tulips’ – for those not in the ‘English-Literature-A-Level-know-how’ Hazzell employs a niche literary technique known as ‘repetition’.
The tulips refer to a narrator’s personal longing for his own place, his own desire for renewal in a life that isn’t the same as it was. He spends his time chasing that elusive answer to his own doubts and his own future but only finds roses, his lover. His own sense of inadequacy makes him incapable of seeing it’s ‘my love, my roses’ that has always been the answer. Only through finding his own self-worth can he finally be loved by others. Despite the prickles (of a rose) and the hurt human connection may bring – the narrator’s love was the answer he was looking for, the thing that’s always been staring back at him. I like the sincerity, the song knows what it wants to convey and does so with flair (bar the half-hearted attempt at social commentary) – unfortunately within the context of the wider EP, ‘Roses’ is undercut by the sheer volume of love songs yet to come on Circus Freaks.
The descending chord progression of the chorus into the bridge, while certainly enjoyable and their most cohesive song to date, remains inoffensive Britpop – laced with guitar driven embellishments interlinking verse and chorus straight from the 90s playbook. As I’ve said before, Kane is an incredibly talented musician, who compliments frontman, Hazzell, brilliantly. His inclusion of synths in the latter half of the song as an offbeat call-and-response lend it a fuller, more distinct identity from its contemporaries. It’s clear a lot of effort has been put into a song that’s already older than most of TX2’s fanbase – I’d urge them to continue down this path of greater experimentation. ‘Love and Roses’ won’t blow your socks off but it’ll give you a glimpse into an upcoming musical outfit with the potential to do great things. What a difference two years has made, I hope the group continues on this upward trajectory in the future.
If Love and Roses was Plastic Circus at their most considered, Furrow Fools is the band at their most hellacious. The song is more derivative of Arctic Monkeys’ Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not than the rest, to an extent it feels a little out of place. The song is the first and only song of their catalog to be fronted by bassist Dylan Kane, yet the bass feels sidelined, it needs to be punched up more, especially with a song so overwhelmed by the drums. From day dot, Furrow Fools throws you into an overwhelming commotion – it’s a sonic crusade so busy packing overdub after overdub into the finished mix that you get lost in the sauce. It’s so frantic that you feel a certain disconnect when listening that personally takes me out of the experience bar the reliability of the line, ‘someone get me out of here’. The song is lesser than the sum of its parts which is a shame considering the proficiency of playing.
Perhaps it lacks the frank punch and zest of Alex Turner’s delivery, Kane’s melodic focus undercuts what the band were going for compared to Turner’s verbal diarrhea. To give credit where it’s due, Arctic Monkeys were aware of this and knew almost instinctively when to pull back. Take The View From The Afternoon, where the instrumental builds every two bars, piling on relentless high-hats and a tirelessly transient bass lick gradually, creating a building instrumental that allows each contributing piece of the song to coalesce cohesively into ‘kino’.
In the song’s intro; the refrain ‘Anticipation has a habit to set you-’, comes on the third beat of the fourth bar, throwing the listener off their feet and straight into the arms of prized shit Alex Turner. Furrow Fools, funnily enough, holds back, leaving an extended gap between the intro and first verse which really dampens the song’s flow, by the first verse it feels as though you’ve smashed head-on into a brick wall, rather than flowing in naturally like The View From The Afternoon.
Note: You’ll have to forgive me if you’re already tired of me using Alex Turner as a case study, to forewarn you now he will be back, just know I only do it because I think it’s relevant in understanding when indie falters and how it can succeed.
Furrow Fools, despite coming out punching, failed to really capture my attention, although out of every song on this album that I feel could really grow on me overtime, it’s absolutely Furrow Fools. Despite a refrain that genuinely teems with potential, both as a showcase of Kane’s vocal range and the band’s ability to make genuinely enthralling music, the song just doesn’t quite have the finesse to run with the concept, in juggling too many plates it doesn’t specialise in one particular way and the finished product consequently suffers.
Snuggled between two dramatically slower tracks, ‘Furrow Fools feels out of place, yet it does inject some much needed energy into the EP so its inclusion is a positive. Perhaps this works for the song’s frantic energy, but I find even after repeated listens, it flies straight through your mind just as quickly as it enters. A lot of my qualms with this song would subside if the song didn’t decay so suddenly; it feels as though the band struggled with how to give such a relentless song an appropriate conclusion. I feel by dithering between a completely abrupt cutoff (ala. I Want You (She’s So Heavy) by The Beatles) or a slower verse resulting in one final all-out assault (ala. The Dripping Tap by King Gizzard and The Lizard Wizard) means that the ending appeases neither side by suddenly decaying into oblivion.
The penultimate track, No Way, No How was previously released as a single but has undergone a remix for the EP. The choruses have drastically toned down Kane’s reverb-soaked harmonies to give some much needed clarity to Hazell’s lead, who’s vocals in turn feel more compressed and tinny than the single mix although they don’t peak as much as the original. The electric guitars that prelude the chorus have also been rowed back, with the acoustic backing track pulled to the fore. The final warble of the song’s outro is cleaner on the EP, however the twangy, chip-like quality of the guitar, largely masked in the single mix, is much more obvious and probably needed to be re-recorded for clarity’s sake. Something that you can’t unhear once you’ve aware is the little skip in the original mix between ‘no woman, no man, gonna know what we’ve done’ and the final chorus of the song. The EP mix makes this far less noticeable but still not perfect.
Objectively the mixes aren’t massive leaps in quality, ultimately, it comes down to personal preference – if you prefer more intricate clarity go for the album, otherwise go for the wider scope of the single. Only I would seek to torment myself by putting the two side by side, bar for bar, to try and figure out why the distinction had to be made. Perhaps this is because I find the ever growing number of love songs over the course of the EP to be tired by this point. Love and Roses completely outshines this song both lyrically and instrumentally (bar the finale); it’s clear to see why they were saving it for the EP and how ‘Roses’ has managed to survive an ever-chopped and changed setlist over the last two years.
Perhaps if the song was broken up a bit more into distinct sections beyond the usual verse-chorus routine that has become a noticeable songwriting crutch for the band, the song would be better for it. No Way, No How is certainly the worst offender for this. Below I’ve laid out a basic structure of the song compared to The View From The Afternoon (BOO! Alex Turner jumpscare).
No Way, No How:
Intro -> Chorus -> Verse -> Chorus -> Verse -> Chorus -> Bridge -> Verse -> Chorus x 2
The View From The Afternoon:
Intro -> Refrain -> Verse -> Bridge -> Refrain -> Verse -> Chorus -> Post-Chorus -> Instrumental -> Refrain -> Chorus -> Post-Chorus
No Way, No How feels as though Plastic Circus played their cards too soon, and there’s not enough variety to really take the song to its full potential. The View From The Afternoon subverts the audience’s expectation by the song’s apex by having the refrain lead into the chorus – the song evolves and changes instead of stagnating – it grasps the listener’s attention rather than passively riding off the strength of the songs pre-established elements. Eazy Rider has a good hook to skate by on; No Way, No How doesn’t quite stick the landing and it’s a shame considering with a little more finesse and variation, the song could really stand out – again, what a finale. Some songs simply needed more time to stew and more room to grow. The band is more than capable, the harmonies are there – they just need to really squeeze every bit of potential out of each and every song – something that they don’t quite manage here with some exceptions.
Plastic Circus’ patchent for indulgent intros is pushed to its extreme with the final track, One More Day; the track is stretched to its absolute limit, the lyrical and instrumental ideas simply too shallow to justify the length. One More Day is one more love song in an EP totally dominated by this same recurring theme – whether it’s unrequited, relationship-centric or in this case temporary, each song at least tangentially falls under this umbrella. By this point I find myself pleading for the boat to be pushed out a bit – in an industry dominated by the easy and universal yet frankly vapid theme of love, boxing yourself in will never be the basis to turn the industry on its head back to guitar ditties. When unconstrained by the expectations of an existing audience or the demands of ass-backwards millennial marketing execs who think they know music better than musicians, that is when you have the time to be a bit crackers.
One More Day is well mixed, the group finds a nice balance between each element of the song, the band has clearly fixed the issues that faced singles like No Way, No How. This song is much the same, however it’s large scope does not come at the cost of clarity in this instance. It’s just a shame that this is the song where Plastic Circus found the right balance.
It feels as though it’s all building to a grand, final climax – yet it all seems to be for nought. They say to always leave your audience wanting more, but I can’t help but feel that the song has so much left to do. I love the use of the synth, I’d love even more for it to be expanded rather than just ornamentation, I’d love even more than that to have a song that really makes the most of its length. Without grabbing the audience, the song feels meandering- suffering from a crisis of faith that it never really reconciles with. The track feels half-baked, there’s so much left unexplored that I can’t help but feel indifferent to the final result – in my opinion, the worst feeling you can have towards a piece of art. Part of me is sympathetic to the idea that this isn’t helped by the tracklisting, if re-jigged to look more like the below set, I think the EP would feel less front-loaded with No Way, No How’s blockbuster finish as the grand finale, rather than One More Day which, despite the nice bell and occasional whistle, is the only dud in the entire EP.
One More Day
Eazy Rider
Furrow Fools
Love and Roses
No Way, No How
Listening to the album countless times over is interesting because it’s actually better than the sum of its parts. Clocking in at a brisk 25 minutes, no song really lingers or out-stays its welcome, if anything I wish certain songs went a bit further. They’re inoffensive yet show potential for something far greater – I just hope Plastic Circus keep up the momentum built up by the first EP and continue creating.
Nobody remembers David Bowie for The Laughing Gnome but if he hadn’t wandered through the necropolis of twee, novelty record shlock from the 60s, we wouldn’t have Bowie full stop. Part of any artists ‘greatness’ is not derived from objective perfection- it comes from artistic progression and the only way to truly embrace that is to create and to have the gaul to actually release something – kudos to Plastic Circus for doing so. I write for Music in Leicester, not for some sociopathic pleasure derived from piling on others, but a genuine belief that critique is how we uplift one another. If I truly didn’t see anything special in the making, I wouldn’t have gone to the lengths of writing this review, I’d have simply returned over the Summer as if nothing happened.
At this point it feels as though Plastic Circus are holding your hand, perhaps less for the listener’s comfort than that of their own; still affixed to a sound not only out of time, but out of sight for many. For some reassurance, few, if any bands reach acclaim at their first pass – those that do typically aren’t fated to the last. This EP is an integral stepping stone toward finding their sound, now is the time to keep looking forward, something I think Plastic Circus are keen to do – I wish them every luck in doing so. If records are the encapsulation of a band’s present era, then Circus Freaks is the solid basis upon which Plastic Circus can begin to thrive. The talent is there, they just have to let go.