Review: Orbiting Human Circus at Citizen Vinyl

I’d like to tell you about the magical night that occurred at Citizen Vinyl on Sept. 14. However, words have never really done justice to the experience of Julian Koster’s live performances. One might attempt to convey the sight of a trumpet-playing polar bear, the haunting melodies of singing saws, or the intricate compositions of a fantastical orchestral bird that gracefully traversed the venue. But would you truly believe it?

Since the 1990s, Koster has been crafting a distinctly imaginative musical realm that defies comparison. While he’s primarily recognized for his contributions to beloved Elephant 6 Collective bands like Neutral Milk Hotel and Olivia Tremor Control, Koster’s solo endeavors, which are characterized by a similarly surreal lo-fi aesthetic, delve even deeper into child-like playfulness. Over the past few decades, touring and recording with such projects as Chocolate USA, Major Organ and The Adding Machine, and The Music Tapes, the multi-instrumentalist has remained one of the indie underground’s most idiosyncratic talents. 

Touring as Orbiting Human Circus — which shares its name with a narrative fiction podcast series Koster launched in 2016 with Night Vale Presents — Koster and his unusual ensemble graced Citizen Vinyl with an intimate concert. The evening included a delightfully weird opening act by eccentric local puppeteer Toybox, as well as a pair of appropriately odd short films.

My past encounters with The Music Tapes, all occurring in New York over a decade ago, left long-lasting impressions. The first two were at conventional music venues, but were anything but ordinary. And the most recent was a very late night performance in my friend’s living room — as part of a tour during which they played several houses each night — that lives on as truly a special experience. That past history left me with high expectations but also an air of uncertainty about what lay ahead — aside from Koster's genuine warmth and clear intent to create a memorable and meaningful connection with his audience. And that’s precisely what distinguishes him.

Some might dismiss this whimsical performance as quirky — or, at worst, childish, much like those who overlooked the brilliance of Tiny Tim in his time. Similar to the latter’s music, Koster's latest album, Quartet Plus Two (set to release on Nov. 17), draws heavily from the vaudeville and Tin Pan Alley era, reinterpreting these sounds into something wonderfully unconventional.

Yet it transcends mere eccentricity. Throughout the Citizen Vinyl show, Koster’s strong desire to share in a joyous experience with the crowd was unmistakable. Despite the spaciousness of the venue, the room felt transformed into a cozy living room by the intimacy of the performance. Koster and his musically-gifted polar bear continually moved around the room, dismantling the traditional barriers between artist and audience imposed by a stage and seating.

To begin his set, Koster introduced his singing saw, affectionately named Romika, entrancing the receptive crowd into a hypnotic reverie to the tune of “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.” Throughout the night, storytelling remained a central thread, introducing us to an additional singing saw named North, as well as a polar bear and orchestral bird, all contributing to the musical tapestry. The sonic highlight of the night was the cheerfully catchy new tune “The Lost Angel,” which featured trumpet accompaniment by the polar bear. The pop nugget was a perfect summation of the combination of glee and innocence that Koster’s music evokes.

Rather than conclude the night with a typical encore, Koster proposed a game of tag called Firefly. Within a few minutes, chairs were cleared away and the rules were presented. Then, dozens of fans were swiftly rotating around the room, attempting to balance a candle on their fingertips while evading a pair of Firefly catchers tasked with obtaining the most candles. In the context of everything that happened before, it all made sense.

Some concerts are about the sheer beauty of music, but Orbiting Human Circus/Music Tapes shows unearth a deeper, more elusive magic. 

(Photos by Jonny Leather)

Toybox