WHAT WE SAY
In the England of our day the forests have mostly disappeared, yet still on many a village green and many a country lane a faded image of the sacred ceremony lingers on in the rustic pageantry of Circulus. We believe there is nothing more fantastical than psychedelic medieval rock for procuring a good harvest.

WHAT THEY SAY
The Lick On The Tip Of An Envelope Yet To Be Sent
By Tom Cox, novelist, journalist
Who says Britain's musicians aren't any good at evoking the heritage of the land they stand on? The album is as true to the legend of its surroundings as any great American country record, any Gregorian chant, any fairy tale. It is John Barleycorn, not dead after all, but alive, well, and strangely funky. It is a little bit of magic, a little bit of future, a little bit of past, and a little bit of some other past that's even harder to remember and that might have contained pixies and boggarts and ace stuff like that. It's so utterly special, it's hard to quite know what to do with it, whether to treat it gently, for fear it might break, or to hold it tight, for fear it might vanish back to the home of mythical woodland creatures it evokes. Yet, simultaneously, there's a sense that it will outlast us all. Circulus: I already loved you, merely for existing. Now you have made this, I can show the world why