Brian F. from Detroit, Michigan: Dear Sgt. Disco:  Does Circus Devils believe in God?                                     

Dear Brian:  Nobody knows God, and nobody understands anything about such a being.   Your question does not state or even imply these important preliminary facts. Nonetheless I was able to get "him" on the horn this afternoon.  Here's how the conversation went:

God:  Hello!  It's wonderful to hear from you, earth creature.  It's been ages since something from earth has contacted us.
Sgt Disco:  What do you mean?  Don't you answer prayers?
God:  Prayers? 
Sgt. Disco:  Never mind, I won't keep you.
God: Please, keep me.  We're surrounded by angels, but all they do is sleep.  The angels assigned to earth sleep the most of all.   They're so terribly bored.
Sgt. Disco:  How come?
God:  To be visible in the eyes of angels, a planet-bound soul must demonstrate it's quality.
Sgt. Disco:  How is that done?
God: In order to rouse an angel from slumber, an earth creature must ignite it's own store of energies and shine with it's own native light.  In other words, it must abandon all ideology,  dogma and belief, and stand naked under the stars in perfect humility.  
Sgt. Disco:  It's funny you mention belief.  That's why I called.   People down here are talking about you all the time.  They ask each other if they believe in you.
God:  Explain.
Sgt. Disco:  Well, they say you exist.  
God:  Exist?   That's no better than a stone, or a turtle.
Sgt. Disco:  Others say you don't exist.
God:  Well that's an improvement.
Sgt. Disco:  Then there are those who would like to believe in you, but don't really understand anything about you.  So they claim ignorance.
God:  That seems the most sensible approach, considering that creatures like you are incapable of understanding what we are.
Sgt. Disco:  You see, that's what I want to tell people.  But if I say it, everyone will think I'm Mr. big head and trying to lecture them.
God: Don't worry about it.  We have you covered.  What else are they saying about us? 
Sgt. Disco:  They say you're a man.
God:  A what?
Sgt. Disco:  Like a human with a penis . . . or facial hair.
God:  Ha!
Sgt Disco:  It's not so funny around here.  There are guys ready to cut my head off if I go around saying that you have a vagina, or that you have no genitals at all.
God:  Rest easy my wayward son.  There will be peace when you are done.
Sgt. Disco:  Where have I heard that before?
God:  We have no way of knowing.
Sgt. Disco:  Why do you always say 'we' when you refer to yourself?  
God:  Why do you always say 'I'? 
Sgt. Disco:  Hey, I have a strategy meeting coming up in a few.  I have to bone up on my presentation.
God:  Thank you for calling Mr. Disco.   Do me a favor, will you, and share my number with others.
Sgt. Disco:   Will do.  Catch you again soon.  Wonderful job on the universe, by the way.  Lot's of great stuff there.
God:  You really think so?  I appreciate that.
Sgt. Disco:  Okay, gotta go.
God:  Sure.  All right.  
Sgt. Disco:  Bye now.
God:  Do you hang up first, since you called me? 

David from Augusta, Georgia: Dear Sgt Disco: Are you guys against Jesus?                                     

Dear David: Circus devils now understands the depth of concern over this issue. Consequently, the band wishes to calm your fears by making the following statement: “Jesus is alright with us.  We just don't like his followers much.”

 

Adam from Prescott, Arizona: Dear Sgt. Disco: Can I join Circus Devils?                                    

Dear Adam: Can you be a pied piper of men, and lead the multitudes through the forest and into the halls of the mountain king? Can you make fire with your mind? Can you eat your own head? Can you play a musical instrument? If you can do these things, then yes, you can join the band, because we want you to teach us how to do it.

 

Gulliver from Zanesville, OH:  Dear Sgt. Disco: A man (or part man) that fits your description of the HAIR FACE was captured back in 2003 by local law enforcement officers right here in Ohio!  This was big news in the county paper.  Was this the same hair face man who approached you guys?

Dear Gulliver:  Thanks for your startling evidence!  But with all such matters, who can be sure?  If there is one hair face, maybe there are whole families of them.  Nonetheless, he looks about the right age.  But it appears that he has let himself go since we last saw him.  In those days he had a neatly trimmed face.  And he didn’t have that weird fang.

 

Nick from Hollywood, California: Dear Sgt. Disco:  If a movie was made about Circus Devils, who would play you?

Dear Nick: Sgt. Disco is angered by your question.  

 

Tony from Fort Wayne, Indiana: Dear Sgt. Disco:  Where do all those weird sounds you make come from?                                   

Dear Tony: Many of those sounds you hear on circus devils recordings are gathered by band member Todd Tobias and manipulated using an ensoniq sampler.  Sometimes he uses tape to slow down or speed up familiar instruments to give them a unique sound.  Distortion filters are a favorite tool in giving sounds a particular texture.  Animal and bird cries and insect sounds have been used as well.  Todd wishes he had a field budget to collect sounds in faraway places like the Amazon, or Bora Bora, but the record company so far has not granted these funds.  

 

Luke from Lima, Ohio: Dear Sgt. Disco:  Is Harold Pig in heaven? . . . or hell? . . . or neither?

Dear Luke: Remember that the destiny of your soul is not as important as the naked fact of its existence.  In this universe, it's much more likely for us never to exist at all. The soul factory at the center of the galaxy can only produce so many souls, and then no more.  And your body is host to one of them. Some other guy will never get the chance to be here because he will remain a mere possibility for all eternity. When you feel bad Luke, think about that other guy, and feel bad for him too.  To get back to your question, we are certain that Harold Pig as we knew him has passed through the digestive tract of many worms. It may sound romantic to you, but Harold Pig is now a denizen of the dirt.  

 

Crabapple from Albuquerque, New Mexico: Dear Sgt. Disco: The greater Albuquerque, New Mexico metropolitan area is split in two by a strip of cottonwood forest known as The Bosque. The Bosque is known to be haunted by a number of legendary inhabitants, not th least of which would be "La Llorona" or the crying woman. She weeps for her children drowned in the Rio Grande by a band of thieves. Anyway, assholes, one time I was tossing handcuffs on some homeless drunk in the Bosque and he said, "Circus Devils Is Real!" He puked in my back seat.

 

Bill from Seattle, Washington: Dear Sgt. Disco:  I was reading your story on the information page, and I think what you boys saw in the woods that night in 1989 was a sasquatch.                                     

Dear Bill: Thanks for offering your theory, but the hair-face man could not have been a sasquatch because he spoke plain English and wore a nice shirt.  The sasquatch people abhor human artifacts, and would never stoop to utter the noises we think of as language.  The sasquatch people communicate telepathically.  Spoken language to them is a primitive practice they abandoned long ago.  When they make noises, it’s usually just for fun.  Sometimes they do it to scare humans, which often proves effective.

 

Jud Bergeron from Brooklyn, New York: Dear Sgt. Disco: Is Circus Devils republican or democrat?                                    

Dear Jud: Circus Devils is comprised of gentlemen of discretion. If they were involved with the kind of depraved things you mention, they would not be disposed to discuss it.  Anyway, I heard that Tim voted for McGovern in '72.  

 

Mookus from Walkerloob: Dear Sgt. Disco: Would Circus Devils pay me to and my friends to tour under the name Circus Devils?                                     

Dear Mookus: Let's establish some perspective. If our homunculus hears of this plan, he will become very restless and shake the bars of his cage and demand to be released. We would then have no choice but to set him free, and after that we cannot be responsible for what takes place. But rest assured, there will be piles of gore to be cleaned away.  One more thing.  Is the plural of your name Mooki?

 

Graig from Seattle, Washington: Dear Sgt. Disco: The song SUMMER IS SET brings my current life (1957-2007) into crystalline clarity. Sadly the new me is comprised of sundry shadows on the run. I no longer require a therapist, simply a tall bridge from whence to climb Microdot Tower. Then the great fall . . .                                     

Dear Graig: I'm glad that you found sympathy with the song Summer IS SET.  But I sincerely hope that you will not use the song as a justification to harm yourself.  We all live in this prison, and part of the reason we make music and listen to music is to give ourselves an escape from the low-grade illusion that we are trapped here and that our weakness and our mistakes add up to the sum of our lives.  This is not true, so keep moving and keep searching.  If you need to fall, then throw yourself into new spheres of LIFE.  

 

Brenda from West Chester, Pennsylvania:  Dear Sgt. Disco and band:  Please don't take offense to my question, but do you boys take any form of drugs for inspiration?

Dear Brenda: No offense taken. The answer is no. Drugs should only be taken when you listen to music.  Not that good music can't be made by people on drugs.  It just hasn't been necessary up to this point as an aid to the imagination of circus devils.  It may be that one day, if and when the records really start to suck, and when the angry comments begin to roll in from folks like you, that drugs will be introduced.  But only then.

 

Stalactite from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania: Dear Sgt. Disco: Concerning the above photo of HAIR-FACE, is he wearing a crushed velvet shirt? Is that a clue?                                     

Dear Stal: You have a keen eye. Yes, this is a clue, but then again, not conclusive. Our friend from Zanesville, Ohio followed up with news that hair-face is no longer in custody. He was released only days after his capture back in 2003, and remains at large. We know that his crime was trespassing on a farm. He was caught sleeping in the farmer's barn, and was apprehended after a fight in the hayloft. One policeman suffered a bite and required shots. When he was handcuffed, the hair-face began to mumble. The official report states that he repeated the words "Let me go back to bed." The report ends there, with no mention of hearings. The identity of hair-face was never disclosed. It was said that he carried no ID of any kind. Or maybe our friend from Zanesville is conveniently ignorant of these facts? It makes you wonder. For example, how did he obtain such a nice photograph?

 

James Earthenware from Melbourne, Australia:  Dear Sgt. Disco: Regardless of speculation there are some jubilant citizens out there thanks to the circus devils. My life ambition is to one-day airdrop 500,000 copies of the circus devils back catalog to those in need. What ritual do you guys undertake to get into the circus devil head-space? Please forward the elements and alleviate your boredom with the mutually exclusive use of fry-pans.
Yours Sonically,
James Earthenware, Conundrum Editor.                                    

Dear Earthenware: Is Conundrum the aboriginal art publication? It's an honor to hear from you. Please feel free to airdrop discs onto any population you wish. It's a shame that all the original so-called primitive, or pre-literate societies have been destroyed, swallowed up, or forced to survive under siege, because I feel that they would appreciate circus devils a lot.  But then they would need technology to listen to the music.

So, back to your question. The circus devils headspace? Let me take a whack at that. There is no specific ritual. I think what they do grows out of the experience of living in America, and more generally, as members of the greater Western civilization that engulfs our minds and subdues our souls.  Part of the spell that civilization casts is the illusion that it is progressive and leads us on to better things. Circus devils is not fooled by this. They don't condone anarchy, because they like electricity and ice cream. But they also need to answer the call from the wilderness. A circus devils record is like a safe journey into dangerous places. They want to make it safe for everyone. Making a circus devils record is like going to Skull island and camping out, and taking pictures of the monsters there, and bringing back the pictures and showing them around. It's fun because they don't have to actually get near the monsters and risk their lives to do that. Some hardcore artists will say they are pussies, but they will not apologize. <br><br>

For anyone who explores the shadow-side of life in their art, it's no good to get trapped in the dark, or to make a fetish out of dark things. That's what so many other bands pretend to do, and kids get caught up in it because they're looking for an external reflection of their pain. Circus devils will not take advantage of the kids this way. Real darkness can't be made into a fetish. It just swallows you.  But it's real, and it is a by-product of civilization, so we can't pretend it's not there. We play around it, and laugh around it, and go through spells of melancholy, and then we make it back home safe, so we can regroup and make the next trip. So circus devils isn't interested in embracing darkness. That's not part of the headspace. It's just impossible to avoid. A sense of humor keeps things in balance. Sometimes humor is what it's all about, because the alternative would be relentless pain and sorrow and cannibalism. <br><br>

Anyway, circus devils feels the need to do this because the united states strives more than any other country to be the shining light, and the land of beauty and blessings. In our daily lives it's hard to see the incredible negative counter-charge that is created by this striving for the ideal in every sphere of life.  Skull island is a metaphor for what lies behind the looking glass of the world we know. If we were born in a place like Bora-Bora, our headspace would be filled with turquoise lagoons, pretty native girls and postcard sunsets.  But that's not an option here in Ohio, or most anywhere else on earth, thanks to civilization and its horrors. Now don't misunderstand, circus devils supports the vision of our nation's founding fathers. But they are all dead, and no one will speak for them now. In conclusion, on one hand, circus devils is trying to enchant themselves in order to escape the numbing boredom of life in this programmed society, and on the other hand, in a very unconscious way, they are exploring who we are and what we're about. I hope that long-winded and convoluted answer made sense. This is the first time I have really thought deeply about it. Now I will try to forget.

 

 

Titmouse from Nazareth, Pennsylvania: Dear Sgt. Disco:  Does Circus Devils hate teenagers as much as I do?

Dear Titmouse: I think maybe you are jealous of their fine, trim physiques and smooth, taut skin. Some teenagers are not the plastic, programmed, pleasure-seeking androids with no sense of all the great music what came before in the decades before their birth that you think they are. These exceptional young people I speak of are hard to find in America, where both pride and ignorance are nurtured in our young.  Pride and ignorance.  That's a splendid combination, don't you think? On the other hand, there are many other countries where the teenagers can technically be called human.  If any teenagers are reading this, don't feel bad.  Take comfort in the fact that you will not last much longer. (As a teenager I mean).

 

 

G. Lynn from Football town, USA: Dear Sgt. Disco:  I find your music particularly suited to listening in a mental state altered by psychoactive agents both legal and, well, less than legal.  It simply makes beautiful sense to me under such circumstances. Do the Circus Devils like to party? Because it sounds like it.
PS: I like to party.

Dear G: We are glad that you party with circus devils records, but the band does not party until the record is done and it's time to listen.  As stated elsewhere, mind-altering substances should only be taken when listening to music, and not during the production process.  The mixing of drugs and musicians usually leads to tiresome jamming and noodling around for hours, which also leads to hordes of worshiping fans and untold riches for these musicians.  But circus devils is not interested in that (the noodling part, I mean).

This is an important matter that should be discussed without fear of being labeled as some kind of egg-head philosopher or smarty-pants wise-guy. The tension between pure imagination on one hand, and a mechanism of calculation and focused execution on the other, must be maintained. In other words, within the workings of the mind, there is the open window to emerging patterns of music and lyrics, and then there is the agent who recognizes these patterns and directs their assembly. Drugs tend to transform this active "director" or agent of assembly into a passive star-gazer. To explain it another way, if we partied like you do, then no work would get done. But by all means, keep partying with the records. We like to hear such reports.

 

 

Rose from Paradise, Indiana: Dear Sgt. Disco:  Is there any relation between Drill Sgt. Soul, Sgt. Disco, and Sgt. Slaughter?                                    

Dear Rose: High marks for your keen eye!  Drill Sgt. Soul IS Sgt. Disco. That was the name I used back when I was ashamed of my real name.  But now the world is a more accepting place, thanks to the fact that nobody cares.  I'm not talking about you Rose. I know that you care. That other guy you mentioned is a fictional character made for the TV.

 

John from Columbus, OH: Dear Sgt. Disco: Ron House needs to be a circus devil.  I too have seen the hair-faced one.  It turned out to be John Cooper’s daughter.                                   

?  from ?:  Dear Sgt. Disco: I hear lots of odd (but strangely pleasing) noises in your albums that sound like a pig squealing. Do Circus Devils hold the pig in high regard? Do any of them own a pig, and if so, what is its name? And will this pig be slaughtered and eaten by the Circus Devils on Christmas Day... or maybe Halloween?                                     

Dear ?: The pig you speak of is not held in high regard by circus devils. Her name is Ursula.  She is owned by my neighbor (at the back), Mr. Crandall, who is a businessman and church leader, and lives on the next street down in a nice house. Mr. Crandall is nice to us and invites us over for games, but he does not support circus devils because he believes the band's name is offensive.  One thing he often says to me is:  "Are those boys still in that combo, the sinful devils?" I say "yeah," and Mr. Crandall shakes his head.  "Well they need to quit that and make themselves useful," he says. We will not eat his pig. Speaking for myself, I do not enjoy eating from the body of pigs.

 

Paul-Is-Dead from Liverpool, United Kingdom: Dear Sgt. Disco:  Who would win in a fight, you or Sgt. Pepper?                                     

Dear Paul-Is-Dead:  Who is Sgt. Pepper?" I stand ready to challenge any man by that name.

 

 

H. Dog from Alamogordo, New Mexico: Dear Sgt. Disco: I’m not kissing any ass here--but the Circus Devils seem to put out better psyche albums than ANYONE did back in the 60s and early 70s. All those crappy albums that people pay thousands for for a "lost thrill"-- the Circus Devils provides. Dr John's Gris Gris, White Noise, all that stuff, Can, Faust....sure they are all good...but....All those snobby record collectors may know nothing about the almighty Circus Devils....Why is that? Its a crime! C'mon Sgt....Why is this? Its a CRIME!                                     

Dear H-Dog: Maybe you are biased on this subject. Think what might happen if you had your way. Your intentions may be pure, but these things have a way of spinning out of control. Picture it with me. Circus Devils on billboards. Circus devils songs on dog food commercials. Kids drawing circus devils logos on their folders and on the covers of their school books. Circus Devils graffiti. Fights in the lunchroom between adolescent girls over which circus devil is the cutest.  And you just know there will be fights about this. Movie deals and law suits. Vacations to Bora-Bora.  And you would wish this upon the world, and upon us? Well that's very kind.


I disagree with you. You are kissing ass. But there's no need to feel ashamed. Think of it as a calling, and it's your duty to answer. Here's what I did, and you can do the same. Start by infiltrating the nearest record-collector society. Sip wine with them and join their high-brow conversation peppered with phrases from extinct languages. Then, when you have won their trust, grab them by the collar and give them a violent shake. Shake them hard enough so that their monacles fall off.  Slap a few astonished faces while you're at it.  Then declare "Sic semper tyrannus!" and apply rubber stamps to their foreheads bearing the circus devils logo. This should get the message across. But be prepared to receive a polite letter revoking your membership to the society.  At any rate, see what kind of progress you can make as one voice crying out in the wilderness, and report back here with any news.  A sincere thank you for your continuing support, Mr. Dog.  

 

 

Wintersox from Bloomington, Indiana: Dear Sgt. Disco:  I quit my job to dedicate myself to my art and in the process I lost my love, sweet Katie. I'd like to share my love letter to the world.

 

Sweet Peace in the Fields
I enter fate At the rustic gales of the gate
I erupt unseen A fledgling
A prophet again I do not claim anything but love
You enter too Wearing waterfalls
Together we meet again It is like the purest trust
Like nothing we could ever imagine

We sip golden water from the brook
Our halos a symbol on Earth

They take us anywhere our heart yearns
But every night we return To rest as sweet peace in the fields.

Do you think I am onto something or just bat shit crazy?

Dear Sox: The second poem is better . . . the one about bat shit. Now don't get your giblets in an uproar! I'm not finished yet. First of all, I am no Ann Landers or Miss Abbey, but I will take a whack at this. First, as a poet, there's a barrier you need to break, where the personal yearnings come through as universal expressions that don't reflect back on you and your personal need for love and peace.  Everybody wants love and peace.  Regardless of the sincerity of your message, it makes people cringe too see a poem like this, because they can only think of you when they read it.  A better poem would make the reader think of herself.   Having said that, you are very brave to offer your poem to the public, especially to a group of fellow citizens who are here to read about circus devils.

Look here, you want to drink the golden water and find peace in the fields.  But Katie wants a man with a paycheck. Can you see the problem here? What you need is a girl who wants the same things you want. Sweet Katie is not interested in sweet peace in the fields! Some will say it was a mistake for me to reproduce this poem here. They will say, This letter should have gone to Katie, and not to circus devils. They will say, "Don't encourage that suckling crybaby!”  But I think we all need to be cut slack in this world, and here is your measure of slack. Now stay in pain and hone your skills. Go on a quiet search for your peace in the fields.  Don't expect it or try to force it. See?

 

Sopes from Seven Hills: Dear Circus Devils, did you ever obtain the Golden Carrot? p.s. - It's fvcking hot in here.                                   

Dear Sopes: What is the golden carrot? Is it something the devil offers in exchange for allegiance? We think maybe you are the devil. You said that it was hot where you are.  I have been to the seven hills, and I have seen you there. You were disguised as a bank teller.  You tried to gyp me.  

 

Pure Guava from Wauseon, Ohio: Your song Soldiers of June makes me cry each time I hear it. Since it is so short, there aren't all that many tears. But it's the thought that counts.                                     

 

Sparking Droid from Hunchback Headquarters: Dear Sgt. Disco: I always secretly thought i gained enough intuitively from the circus devils records as to eliminate the need for psychiatric help. Thank you for your music. It really does help with balancing perspective. I have a few questions - are there or will there be any other community celebrations in the same vein as 'new you (you can see and believe)'? Is it worth investing hope in the existence of visuals? holographic mutants? real ones? May i title such footage, if i ever get a hold of it, 'visible men in the meatyard' ?                                  

Dear Sparky: Any news of a live show will go out to the circus devils mailing list. But right now, there are no such plans. Speaking of visuals, the band is planning to put together a rudimentary sort of "video," which they hope to make available soon. They would like to continue making such videos.  But don't expect to see bathing beauties and flashy styles. Your title idea is good. Maybe it can be used for the box set coming out in 2019.

 

Transcendant Recliner from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania: Dear Sgt. Disco:  What pleases you?                                     

Dear Recliner: I am most pleased by seeing my name on the cover of a record. When I found out that it would be a circus devils record, I was so very, very happy.  One member of the band was also happy - so happy that he swung his arms and smashed some lamps and furniture.  At the end of the day they had no more guitars left.  They were all smashed to pieces. I think this proves to you how happy we all were.

The Sgt. (me) also enjoys visits from his favorite call-girl Pinky. So far I have been introduced to six different girls with the name Pinky. It's not what you think.  We go roller skating, and afterwards we share a malt.

 

Bill from Enon, Ohio: Dear Sgt. Disco: WE NEED A TOUR!  Need to see the madness for my own very eyes....straps hold up the jaw....Trent Reznor has nothing on Circus Devils.                                    

Dear Bill: Your imaginary circus devils show will always be better than the real thing.

P.S.: What do you mean, madness? You think the band is crazy or something?   I'm serious.  What do you mean?

 

Shannon from Lowell, Massachussetts: Dear Sgt. Disco:  Hey guys, I hope you are all having a wonderful summer!!!! Much Peacenlove to you all.

 

Lord Kitchen Knife from Arrowe Hill, United Kingdom: Dear Sgt. Disco: You and I served together on the eastern front during the Psychedelic wars.  You are indeed a gentleman and a scholar & as melodic as a tripping bee. GOD SAVE THE CIRCUS DEVILS.

 

Lucy Fur from Dayton, Ohio: Dear Sgt. Disco:  My family loves Circus Devils. GOD BLESS THOSE DEVILS. We love them and think they should go on tour. We could bring the entire family. They're not really Devils just eclectic musicians who are on the cusp of something new and improved in rock. Bring it all to life. See you all in the Hall Of Mirrors. Fuckers!
Circus Devils taught me how to live.

 

 Bluecat from Ottowa, Canada: Dear Sgt. Disco: Does Circus Devils believe in UFOs?                                     

Dear Bluecat: Many people will assume that everything written here is a cute joke. They are gravely mistaken. This is not a forum for cute jokes.  Don't allow the avalanche of nonsense presented on this topic in the media and in the movies to sway your opinion. UFOs are real.  Either a direct experience, or trust in the word of one's fellow man, or an awareness of the vastness of the universe will support this belief. Those who refuse to believe are like the kid on the playground who kisses the bully's ass in order to join his gang.  They are frightened seekers of safety, and nothing else.

 

Javiar from Venezuela: Dear Sgt. Disco: I was tired of music, and then I heard circus devils.  Now I will not listen to music ever again.

Dear Javiar:  We regret your loss but will not offer you an apology.

 

 

Jim the Fish from North Bay, Canada: Dear Sgt. Disco:  I don't know what the goddam is going on right now. Since I started listening to that first circus devils record there with that song devilspeak, my hands have always been feelin' wet, and my heads been feelin' dizzy and such. I'm asking myself questions too at this point, like "which record is the best?" But there is no best, a forward moving object does not have a best, or wait... Well i just don't know dammit. I would also think that a goddamned Circus Devil would have a 6th , 7th or even an 8th record hidden in a secret compound under guard from eager listenitarians hungry for something not even comprehended. Is this too much to ask? A future? Something for the hungry?? Something for the willing???                                      

Dear Jim: Willing? What are you willing to do? Donate to the circus devils charity fund? We gladly accept your generous offer.  No sir, there are no secret recordings hidden away from you.  Well, that is not entirely true.  Circus Devils IV was made, but then it vanished.  All of the song files were deleted.  As far as I know, no backup files were saved.  So technically, every song the band has recorded does in fact appear on the records that go for sale.  I can tell you Jim, making records is no picnic lunch. "Bird maggot" was the original title of Circus Devils IV.  But the title was quickly dropped.  Other prospective titles included: "Sit and Spin," and then "Get up and go." Then there was "Now hold on just a minute!" Those records were going to be great, as is the case with all records in the planning stage.  Anyhoo, we appreciate your desire for more, and we regret that you are not satisfied.

 

Jeff from Florida: Dear Sgt. Disco:  Nothing makes sense on the circus devils records.  Its just loads of shit piled on with nothing meaningful behind it.

Dear Jeff: Are you some kind of professor?  Steve Five from THE LIBRARY IS ON FIRE told me that Florida is America’s wang.  Is that true?

 

Crabapple from Albuquerque, NM: Dear Sgt. Disco:  The greater Albuquerque, New Mexico metropolitan area is split in two by a strip of cottonwood forest known as The Bosque.  The Bosque is known to be haunted by a number of legendary inhabitants, not the least of which would be "La Llorona" or the crying woman.  She weeps for her children drowned in the Rio Grande by a band of thieves.  Anyway, assholes, one time I was tossing handcuffs on some homeless drunk in the Bosque and he said, "Circus Devils Is Real!" He puked in my back seat.                          

 

 

 

 

CIRCUS DEVILS FORUM 2007