Inspired by the collision of her past and present, Drawing Wings From The Light, the new EP from London-based artist Circe is a passionate, rapturous collection of slickly produced dark pop tracks.
On her debut record, She’s Made Of Saints (2020), Circe lingered in the shadowy, dystopian ether of cult leaders (‘Dancer’), Stranger Things (‘Steve Harrington’) and The Handmaid’s Tale (‘Ten Girls’), but on her latest offering, she willingly shares personal epiphanies, unfiltered heartbreaks, precious teenage secrets and cell-shaping theatrical experiences with her listeners.
Circe celebrates the lust, frustration and chaos that comes with being a woman who refuses to be scorned, blending pop melodies with poetic lyrics, seraphic vocals and cinematic synths to celebrate the power of these unfiltered feelings. “Take my blood instead of wine” she offers on opening track ‘Riot Of Sunlight’, a disorientating blend of reverb-heavy riffs and dizzying electronics. Originally written when she was a teenager after she saw Jez Butterworth and Mark Rylance’s critically acclaimed play Jerusalem at the theatre, the song has evolved into a euphoric rush of atmospheric sound that becomes more addictive each time it’s listened to.
Whether Circe is finding inspiration in essays titles like Femininity Weaponised: A History Of Women With Swords In Art on the sensational ‘Undone’, vehemently celebrating female sexuality and romantic infatuation on ‘Going Down’, or ruminating on what happens when you surrender to lust on the glistening ‘Mess With Your Head’ – each track on Drawing Wings From The Light feels like a sonic manifestation of power.
She provides her listeners with a delicious head rush that feels akin to taking a bite of forbidden fruit. Her playful exploration of desire and experimentation with gender boundaries on ‘My Boy Aphrodite’ is equally as charming, underscored by her sultry vocals, dazzling electronics and a deeply relatable sense of longing for love and acceptance.
On first listen, ‘Glow (You Always Tell Me I Have This Glow)’ appears more subdued than her other vivid offerings, but it showcases the effervescent side of her song-writing superbly. Circe’s quiet anger smoulders across three minutes: “Move away / so I don’t tear you down too” she sings, her warnings enhanced by the Mach Richter-inspired ‘Nature of Daylight‘ violin parts (which Circe played herself) as well as the sampled sounds of scissors snipping through her own hair.
Blending the biblical story of Samson and Delilah with her own experiences of casual misogyny to create the narrative for ‘Glow’, Circe blurs the lines between myth and reality, exploring the murky territory that sits in between. Her hushed threat of “I am a hurricane” sees her defiantly reclaim her self autonomy in the face of this adversity.
Drawing Wings From The Light ends on a distinctively melancholic note in the form of ‘I’m Still Not Sorry For What I Said’. Unexpectedly recorded in one take in the studio whilst she was confiding in friend and producer Steven Ansell, it feels like a poetic voicenote from a lover intoxicated by heartbreak. It’s a glitchy, down-tempo confession that captures the raw truth of a moment of desire that still manages to retain Circe’s idiosyncratic charm.
Like her mythical Greek namesake – who was described as “a sorceress…able by means of drugs and incantations to change humans into wolves, lions, and swine” – Circe is a captivating force of nature who finds power and comfort in her dark pop fantasies. Drawing Wings From The Light is a total euphoric delight that highlights her potent, impressive songwriting talents.
Listen to Drawing Wings From The Light here
Follow Circe on Spotify, bandcamp, YouTube, TikTok, Twitter & Instagram
Photo Credit: Zak Watson
Get In Her Ears 