The Wheel of Time: An Emotional Reflection on Life’s Inevitable Returns
There are certain artists who simply become synonymous with a specific, magical epoch in British popular culture, and David Essex is undoubtedly one of them. While we often celebrate the sheer youthful swagger of his cinematic roles or the raw energy of hits like “Rock On,” the true depth of his artistry often lies in the self-penned, contemplative ballads that he threaded throughout his career. These songs reveal the thoughtful man behind the teen idol façade—a poet whose Romany heritage perhaps instilled in him a deep, philosophical view of time and travel. One such enduring gem is “Circles,” a track that stands apart from the stadium-filling anthems, offering instead a moment of quiet, wistful reflection.
The song “Circles” was originally released on David Essex’s third studio album, All the Fun of the Fair, in 1975. This album itself was a huge success, peaking at No. 3 on the UK Albums Chart and certified Gold, cementing his place in the mid-70s firmament. Unlike the album’s massive lead single, the UK chart-topper “Hold Me Close,” “Circles” was not released as a single at the time in the UK. This fact is significant, suggesting the song’s purpose was not to conquer the charts but to serve as a vital piece of the emotional narrative within the album. It was a quieter moment in the spotlight, allowing the listener to draw closer to the singer, feeling the profound honesty in his voice without the distraction of pop production fanfare. However, it gained immense popularity as an album track and a fan favourite, featuring prominently on subsequent compilations, giving it a chart-less, yet powerful, hold on the public memory. Produced by his long-time collaborator, the legendary Jeff Wayne, the arrangement is sophisticated yet sparse, allowing Essex’s compelling narrative voice to take center stage.
The essence of “Circles” is a profound meditation on the way life doubles back on itself. The meaning is derived from the simple, universal truth that what goes around, comes around—not necessarily in a dramatic, karmic sense, but in the recurring patterns of human experience. It speaks of the seasons changing, lovers returning, friendships dissolving and then miraculously reforming. It’s the bittersweet realization that the future we race towards often looks surprisingly like the past we left behind. This cyclical view resonated deeply with a generation that had lived through dramatic cultural shifts, recognizing that the rebellious energy of the sixties and early seventies had given way to a more introspective, perhaps even resigned, period of stability. The story behind the song is arguably the story of any adult looking back: seeing the pattern, acknowledging the repetitions, and finding a strange comfort in the predictability of it all.
The natural, almost theatrical quality of Essex’s performance on “Circles” makes it feel like a personal conversation whispered over the airwaves. His vocal delivery is steeped in a gentle melancholy that is utterly captivating; he is not lamenting the repetition, but quietly accepting it with the calm wisdom of a traveller who has seen the route many times before. The gentle piano, the subtle strings, and the slightly melancholic, rolling melody create a soundscape that is instantly transportive. For those of us listening in 1975, perhaps navigating the complexities of young adulthood, this song felt like a reassuring nod from someone who understood the confusing journey. It validated the notion that finding yourself lost was simply part of the loop, and that tomorrow, the journey would simply begin again, like a pebble dropping into a vast, unhurried pool, sending out ripple after ripple, creating a life lived in Circles. It’s a beautifully aged piece of music that still offers quiet solace today, reminding us that we are all, ultimately, on the same recurring journey.