This is the soundtrack for the spaceship; the DJ's go-to disc aboard the intergalactic dance party. It is also the last album guitarist Neal Casal recorded with the group, completed after his tragic passing in August of 2019. There is an appropriately black cover, and lettering shiny like the music within: shimmering like glass; orbiting the mirror ball; the last boogie for one of its own.
Tracked by the invaluable engineer Jim Scott (RollingStones, Tom Petty, Wilco), the seven-song collection is not so much a departurefor the instrumental Southern California quartet, but a notch up on their retrotimeline of musical movements. Inchingforward from their psychedelic debut echoing the late ‘60s, through a groovyfusion, mid-70s follow-up, to now, a late ‘70s danceteria, CATS have once againcharted their own funky course. Sunny,bright, even burning, this is an optimistic and smiling record; and one hard toreconcile with Casal’s death by suicide.
It’s difficult to process the loss of such a talent; harderstill under the tragic circumstances. Those looking for clues won’t find any here. Casal’s playing is ebullient and inspired; anantidote to gloom. The compositions are layeredand imaginative. The interplay betweenhim and his bandmates- keyboardist Adam MacDougall, bassist Dan Horne, anddrummer Mark Levy- is as sharp and reciprocal as ever. As Casal’s last work with CATS, it’s anabsolute joy.
Circles Around the Sun was on an upswing as they recordedthis third record. The buzz andattendance at shows both increasing as they dedicated more time to what wasonce a side project for Grateful Dead reunion shows. It is a band of four that had grown togetheras one, with a collective approach and sound that suggested limitlesspossibilities.
Casal, to whom the album is dedicated, asked that the groupcarry on in his absence. Having theconscience to suggest such a thing, among his final wishes, is bittersweet. The music will carry on, and this album willbe the ticket to the constellations.
