Welcome To The Circle Its Good: A Raw, Psychedelic Punch in the Face
Alright, let’s get this straight—The Fun Band’s Welcome To The Circle Its Good isn’t your polished, overproduced rock album. No sir. This is 1968 garage rock with teeth, dripping with psychedelia and a vibe so raw it feels like they recorded it live in someone’s basement. Released on ABC Records, this US-born gem hits hard and doesn’t apologize for it. And honestly? That’s why you’ll remember it.
First off, “It’s Good.” Yeah, I know, real creative title, right? But don’t judge a track by its name because this sucker slaps. It kicks off with this fuzzed-out guitar riff that grabs you by the collar and shakes you awake. Then comes the vocals—raw, unhinged, like the singer just woke up from a three-day bender and decided to lay it all out there. There’s no pretense here; it’s pure emotion wrapped in distortion. You can practically smell the cigarettes and spilled beer when this one plays. It sticks with you not because it’s perfect but because it’s real. Like, uncomfortably real.
Then there’s “Welcome To The Circle.” This one’s a trip—and I mean that literally. If you’re into psychedelic rock, this track will mess with your head in the best way possible. The drums stutter and stumble like they’re lost in a haze, while the guitars swirl around you like some kind of acid-soaked tornado. Halfway through, there’s this weird breakdown where everything drops out except for this eerie organ line that sounds like it crawled out of a haunted house. It’s chaotic as hell, but damn if it doesn’t work. By the end, you’re not sure if you’ve been listening to music or taking a bad trip without the drugs.
What gets me about this album is how unapologetically messy it is. These guys weren’t trying to reinvent the wheel—they were too busy smashing it to pieces. And yeah, maybe some parts feel a bit rough around the edges (okay, a lot rough), but that’s what makes it authentic. In a world full of shiny, soulless crap, Welcome To The Circle Its Good reminds you what rock ‘n’ roll used to be about: rebellion, experimentation, and having zero fs to give.
So here’s the kicker: listening to this album feels like finding an old Polaroid at a thrift store. You don’t know who these people are, but their energy jumps off the page and pulls you in anyway. Maybe that’s why The Fun Band never blew up—they didn’t care enough to play the game. But screw it, man. Sometimes being forgotten is better than being fake. Turn this one up loud and let it rip—it’s good.
