So what will the band do tonight when they are sandwiched into a half hour slot between two other bands? The trio move purposefully from the dressing room to the stage and vocalist Alan Owens immediately generates intrigue and humour as he shouts “Look at me trainers, man. Top gear!” The fact that the speaker stack is lined up across the stage, forming a barrier between artist and audience, so the band are only visible from the knees up, on in the case of the diminutive Owens, his waist doesn’t seem to have occurred to him.  | | Circus Girls (pic: Ged Camera) |
The same mischievous humour surfaces regularly throughout the set and the sparsely attended gig has a feel of fun about it, even if there are no girls, especially ones of a circus type. The initial style is a dark, taut pulsating bass beat, reminiscent of a very, very angry Depeche Mode and then we go on a magical musical tour. The vibrancy pounds from the speakers, causing welcome distress to the limbs that want to move and the brain that’s trying to work out where that sample has come from. Visually, according to one onlooker, Owens resembles a mutant gene of Mark E. Smith that has been combined in a lab with a strain of Vini Reilly whilst being exposed to a dose of Phil Oakey, a comparison Owens would no doubt be proud off. The band’s fourth member, the laptop, controls the pace of things, stopping Owens from grabbing a mid-break ciggie or a sip of his pint – after all, they are only on for half an hour and we still have to move into the Motown style harmonies, glam rock and the kitchen sink. Far from being rooted in the past, the band mutates the sounds into something valid for today. As Owens proclaims, “Come and join us/Be part of the gang” | 
