Erasure - The Circus (Anniversary Celebration)


UK release date: March 30th 1987
UK album chart peak: #6
US album chart peak: #190

Buy The Circus here (Amazon UK)
Read my #TheCircus30 singles project here
Read my other Erasure anniversary posts here


When Erasure's second album (and breakthrough success), The Circus, was released on March 30th 1987, I was a mere child of pre-teen years (age redacted for self-preservation purposes). I hadn't blossomed into the suave, devilishly handsome, pop loving sophisticate you see in front of you now (I was called "an older, less handsome Josh from Trial and Error" this week) - heck, I wore jeans with The Flintstones transfers on the legs. My main source of musical satisfaction came from religiously playing my mum's comprehensive ABBA collection (I would play Dancing Queen and go "Oh God, that's good") and an unhealthy obsession with The Kids From Fame. As documented in some of the previous anniversary celebrations above, my love for Erasure started circa The Innocents/Wild era, so I didn't discover The Circus until it was a gratifying footnote in history. My older brother, however, was all over it like a rash - proclaiming that he loved them since the start (just because, after Sometimes was released, he found a 12" of Who Needs Love Like That at a second hand record store) and urging me to get an "admits one" ticket to The Circus. Foolishly, I ignored his pleas but am pretty sure his relentless spinning of the album permeated my consciousness and paved the way for my all consuming and enduring love of Erasure that happened as I started to come of age.

While The Circus is widely and correctly credited as the album that catapulted Erasure into the big leagues, it is actually so much more than that. It demonstrated solid musical growth from their charming Wonderland album and set the architectural blue print for the bold pop and heartbreaking ballads that would come with The Innocents (and give them much greater success). The synthesised sound added to the danceability of the songs, while making the quieter moments more melancholy - giving you opportunity to appreciate what a phenomenal pairing Vince and Andy proved to be from the very beginning. The prelude to The Circus actually started at the tail end of 1986 when what would prove to be the unstoppable Sometimes was released. Now this song I definitely remember - even my mum proclaimed it was as good as SOS (lofty praise from her). The track typified the Erasure sound — an uptempo, dance-oriented pop tune accentuated by Clarke's analogue synthesizers and Bell's lyrics about being in love. Years later, I would realise that this description was a gross over-simplification; it was hugely important to me that Andy was singing about finding solace in the arms of another man in order to forget the agony of heartache. A vacuum of despair disguised as liberating, uptempo, cathartic pop? This really was as good as SOS. It is no wonder all of Britain was enchanted and the song shimmied its way up the charts to peak at number two (whilst also giving them a sizeable Billboard Dance Chart smash). Years later, circa 1992, when I was busy completing my full collection of all Erasure 12"s (by pilfering from my brother and spending hours in the same second hand record shops he had frequented), I fell just as hard for the 12" remix of Sometimes b-side and album track, Sexuality. Finding this vibrant, elongated version at a time when I was coming to terms with my own sexuality was like manna from the pop heavens, affirmation that the feelings and urges we have inside aren't wrong or dirty. Sometimes and Sexuality were partly responsible for letting me believe love, lust and sensuality are perfectly okay to explore, whoever you explore them with.

The second pre-cursor to The Circus came a few weeks before the album release. It Doesn't Have To Be was not exactly a ballad, but was a more languorous affair than Sometimes, a brave decision by the duo to showcase the versatility within their music. It must have been a massive temptation to chose a track that was more stylistically in line with their mega hit but ...Be was the right choice in order to promote the album to as broad an audience as possible. Again, Abba comparisons are valid here as lyrics detailing apartheid in Africa (with a glorious middle 8 sung in Kiswahili) were akin with tracks like The Visitors. Andy's yearning vocals, lamenting the pointlessness and tragedy of division amongst equals were as electrifying and poignant in their own way as Anni-Frids on the aforementioned classic. It culminated with a chorus that shimmered like the most beautiful sunrise you have seen, a refrain that stayed in your brain long after the song had finished. It may not have reached the giddy heights of number two, but it was no slouch either, peaking at number twelve and still sounding as relevant and fresh today as it did 30 years ago. Along with Sometimes, it propelled the parent album into the UK top ten and set things up for a third single with the magnificent Victim of Love sashaying into the UK top ten in May 1987. As with most Erasure songs of this era, the analog synthesiser merged beautifully with the acoustic guitar to create magical uptempo rhythms that swathed Andy's distinct vocals wonderfully. Here, the narrative explored how getting your heart broken can make you more tentative when embarking on a new love affair when the old wounds have yet to heal (it actually had a darker album companion piece that continued this story on Leave Me To Bleed). The way he sung the chorus made the listener feel like embracing the music somehow gave him (and us) the courage to let down your defenses and choose hope over loneliness. I love that this song is still a concert favourite and gets a massively enthusiastic response from the crowd every time it is played live. Rightly so - that one line is the key to hope: "I don't want to end up another victim of love". Simple yet brilliantly effective.

The fourth (and final) single from The Circus was the mesmerising title track. I remember reading a review of this in Smash Hits (or something of that ilk) that said it was rare for the duo to tackle such social issues as secure employment against a backdrop of corporate greed. The reviewer clearly hadn't got the point of their other songs, for surely It Doesn't Have To Be was clearly about important social issues, and what is Sexuality against a government (at the time) so vehemently against AIDS if not a social issue? But I digress. When I say this was a maudlin, haunting ballad, I mean it in the most complimentary of ways - particularly as it laid the groundwork and template for some of my very favourite ever Erasure songs (You Surround Me, Always, Am I Right, Stay With Me). Remixed and edited from its five minute plus album length to a more radio friendly format, the accordion blended perfectly with guitar and bass to craft an off-kilter vibe that almost sounded like the song was being played backwards (or at least through a fun house mirror, metaphorically fitting the circus theme perfectly). It was gratifying that this hypnotic effect cast its thrall once more over England and rewarded the duo with another top ten hit. There was certainly room and time for a fifth single from the album before moving on to The Innocents, but four would prove to be the magic number of hits for Erasure for a good number of their future albums so I can't complain that more tracks weren't given the light of day. I do recall, however, playing If I Could on incessant repeat, with lyrics such as "If I could/ Make the world a little better/ You know I would" elevating my spirits whenever I felt down. And it was a song I would return to quite often in my final year of school when bullying and homophobic taunts became more prevalent. This song was one that made me cling to hope that it would indeed get better. And for that, Erasure, I thank you.

I've mentioned many times before that part of the joy of being an Erasure fan, particularly in the 80s and 90s, was the plethora of unreleased b-sides and remixes of both hits, album tracks and b-sides the filled the 12"/maxi-cd releases accompanying each single. It is a treasure trove of goodies that made collecting their music such a treat. In November 1987, the band made this slightly easier for those on a budget by issuing The Two Ring Circus, a collection of their remixes that showcased how their music could be interpreted by other people. It also came with a Touring Circus bonus pack that included all the singles performed live, the heart aching lament of Spiralling (another song that could have been a fifth single), and their version of Gimme, Gimme, Gimme (certainly a hint of what was to come with Abba-esque). Add to this a whole different set of remixes that were released on the 2011 deluxe edition of The Circus and you have a comprehensive package of music that you can lose yourself in for hours. The Circus era is a musical world I return to often, wishing I'd paid more attention at the time but thankful it has become such a integral part of my history since.

No comments:

Post a Comment