I always love it when I see that the Circle Bar has booked another big-name (in my world, at least) band. Its like a friend calling me up and saying, Hey Noah, you might want to get over here Old Time Relijun is playing in my living room.
Hitchcockesque on the outside but cozy-as-hot-cocoa inside, the pint-sized
Lee Circle joint is so tiny that audience claps count as active percussion. After all, in a 10-square-foot space, amplification is merely an afterthought. When the San Diego spook-folk group Castanets visited in early 2005, a wooden box serving as a chair for singer/guitarist Ray Raposas accompanist also doubled as a drum kit; she rapped out hollow, haunting rhythms on it with her knuckles.
Such absurdist intimacy is what makes otherwise run-of-the-mill shows at Le Cirque so memorable. And while it wouldnt be all that unusual to find Quintron or the Morning 40s performing a set in your buddys foyer, seeing an act like Castanets or the K Records staple Relijun scheduled for a gig next Wednesday with inquisitively verbose locals Why Are We Building Such a Big Ship? in this rare shoebox setting is a different matter entirely.