Alright, folks, I’ve spent the better part of three months trying to figure out what to write about The Circle and the Blue Door, the debut album from England-based Purson. To borrow a bit from Spaceballs, the short-short version is, “I dig it, and you will too,” but that type of summary only flies in smoking circles outside your local underground bar or deep in the forest – either of which, ironically, is the ideal atmosphere to experience Purson.
I probably should have prefaced some of that by saying that it would help if you’re into earthy, groove-based prog straight out of the late 60s/early 70s. It certainly has its moments of modern flair, but visions of Arthur Brown kept crossing my mind throughout, particularly on more upbeat tracks like “Leaning on a Bear” and “Mavericks and Mystics,” which sound like they were spawned from the same rivulets of genius that brought “Fire” into the world. The music is awash with the sounds of organ, Mellotron, and Wurlitzer to create a smoky, psychedelic vibe befitting a mixer for single warlocks and witches. But it’s not all jiggy in this occult. Frontwoman Rosalie Cunningham is as hypnotizing as she is rocking, almost siren-esque on opener “Tempest and the Tide” and “Rocking Horse.”
But it seems that everyone wants to talk about “Spiderwood Farm,” so we’ll give that one its own paragraph. The track basically sums up entire album in a 5+ minute package. Great Mellotron and keyboard work, varying tempo and vocal, and one hell of an earworm groove. Also of note, to some: it takes its name from an obscure band from the early ’70s, obscure enough that I couldn’t even find anything to confirm their existence (save for a mention on Last.fm of their previous incarnation, Izzy Pound) or that it would be relevant to Purson in any way. Cunningham has clearly done her musical homework for knowledge and inspiration to be reading back issues of Britain’s Sounds magazine that are twice as old as she is.
There are a few non-specific moments here where the album tends to drag, where the songs start to feel a little self-indulgent or overly dramatic. This is probably due to repetition or misplaced interludes; some tracks could probably stand to lose a minute or so of musical noodling or vocalizing for vocalizing’s sake. It’s easy to zone out during these moments, but they’ll snap you back out of it eventually. Other than that, I’m not finding a whole lot to complain about.
If you like your occult rock a little moody and without too much musical virtuosity, Purson could be right up your alley. They’re pretty far removed from the likes of Ghost and Witchcraft but have a nice little coven that one could easily get used to.
