ERASING CLOUDS
The schizophrenia that drives circus devils' most frantic side can also lead them into gentler and even quite gorgeous territory. More acoustic in general, and more tuneful throughout, Gringo proves that definitively. The whole Circus Devils project has always been about being unhinged, creating a mood full of weirdness and even fright. But still it's never that far from moments of beauty or melody. Gringo is probably the most accessible Circus Devils album in that way, but no less strange or doom-obsessed. At times it resembles a proper pop-rock album, the sort you can sing along to and blare from your car stereo. But still there are puzzles galore, and the album gets weirder the longer or closer that you listen.

Musically the album is filled with creepy film-score interludes and art-rock grinders, but also pretty and strange acoustic balladry. Rumination turns mystical, often; see "Monkey Head". Like every Circus Devil album, it feels haunted, but those ghosts do less screaming and more gentle creeping and following. And of course, nothing is as it seems. There's a lot to savor and decipher throughout. In "The Beast Falls Down", Pollard sings out loudly, with emotion, over lovely acoustic guitar. "Arizona Blacktop Company" is the maybe creepiest example of the experimentation going on here. A series of startling noises - scurrying and cries - build to a crescendo and then, even more eerily, disappear.

With Gringo, you can get lulled into comfort, but then you'll be stabbed in the face.
- Dave Heaton

The FIRE NOTE
The latest from Robert Pollard and the Tobias brothers, Todd & Tim, once again proves that this vehicle has no rules, boundaries or expectations. This seventh release tells the story of Gringo with moods ranging from high to low in a simple mostly acoustic form that still embraces the Circus Devils love for eclectic background noises but is their most straightforward set of accessible songs to date. This all begins with Pollard's clear non-distorted vocals and guitar in lead off track "Witness Hill", which provides the perfect guide on this new journey for the Circus Devils. The hush strumming of guitar in the quiet ballad "Shipped From Prison To Prison" is so stripped back that you will double check that you are indeed listening to the Circus Devils. The next track "Bad Baby Blue" will quickly put you at ease as it has a little more odd sounding chorus but remains in line with the album while near the conclusion "Gasoline Drinkers" reminds you of how the band can still rock out when they want. Gringo probably won't pull as many Pollard followers as it should because it really is "Circus Devils for Dummies", which could easily be a starting point for a newbie to the group and guide them backwards to some of their more challenging work. You can call Gringo a statement, a step forward, a step backwards, or just the right step but the Circus Devils finalize the notion that trying to put a label on them remains impossible and that is what makes them worth seeking out!
- Christopher Anthony

Allmusic.com
The seventh Circus Devils album demonstrates just how good Pollard can be when he has a worthy collaborator to challenge him; the melodic and instrumental contributions of the Tobias brothers give Pollard a chance to do something with the prog rock influences that have long been his dirty little secret, and these 16 songs fit together in a way that makes them seem less like a collection of fragments and more like a coherent musical whole, something that isn't always the case when Pollard is working on his own. Todd Tobias' keyboard work is the Circus Devils' secret weapon on Gringo; emulating a number of instruments, he adds a variety of bent sonic textures that bring a curious freshness to the melodies, and the codas and introductions bridge the songs with a subtle but deliberate intelligence, helping this album set a mood that doesn't ebb until the instrumental finale, "Yellow Cloud," comes to a close. And if Pollard's lyrics don't make much linear sense as usual, in this context their obscurity is an asset, contributing to the mystery rather than muddying the clarity of his poppier tunes.
- Mark Deming

SALT LAKE CITY WEEKLY
Circus Devils has given birth to some pretty eccentric, proggy musical products, but Gringo may be the most out of left field of them all. It's the soundtrack to an imaginary spaghetti Western-- "sagebrush blowing down the back of my throat" as Robert Pollard the Ohioan imagines, like he does everything else, the surreal open spaces of a Western as might be filmed by Alexandro Jodorowsky, a West whose population includes witches and a "Monkey Head." You can hear acoustic guitars but there's no twang to be had. Pollard's genius resides somewhere between eccentric elocutions and making mundane figures of speech sound somehow poetic. "Witness Hill" kicks off the album like it could be the aftermath of a gunfight, but things get strange from then on in. "Shipped From Prison to Prison" and "Stars Out All Night" are incredibly heartrending ballads, and Pollard can't resist throwing a flat-out rocker with "Gasoline Drinkers." But still it's in some surreal Southwest: "Gasoline drinkers, oh no/ it's coming at me like in dreams/ Ain't nothing we won't try/ not like we're still alive/ it's only like it never was before." It's a movie for the mind.
- Brian Staker

LUNA KAFE
Circus Devils has on Gringo really re-invented themselves. Starting from an almost introverted, dark-noise-rock-psychedelica sound, they have ventured into much broader soundscapes. The noise is for the most part gone along with the dark images. But giving room for some light in their music doesn't mean that they sound light. It just make the music slightly more accessible. Entitling the album Gringo also gives some indication of where the music is going, namely to the desert. The dry, hot, and dusty desert of an old spaghetti-western movie. But this being the Circus Devils, it's not straightforward desert-rock. "Hot Water Wine" in particular is a splendidly surreal, pretty, psychedelic, grunge-like hymn. And even if there are some soft, melodic spots here, like "Ships from Prison to Prison" or the sparkling acoustic guitar on "Stars on all Night," Gringo is most of all a 16-track rock journey through the dusty wastelands where the jubilant and melancholic meet at high noon. A most pleasant journey I have to say.
- Aslaug O Klausen

CITIZEN DICK
There are a slew of tracks on Gringo that are insanely catchy. There's still a dark undercurrent, but songs like "Hot Water Wine" and "In Your Hour of Rescue" are "accesible" to the point of being damn near sing-a-longs. While listener-friendly, both still have an edge of the subversive to them. You're not going to see Circus Devils on an NBC sitcom soon, but you could probably play a few of these at your company's Christmas party without getting sideways looks.
Many of the songs are sung in the first-person, so one could assume that most are from the point-of-view of the Gringo, but, as a listener, individual songs and lyrics jumped out at me more than a more cohesive story. If the Gringo has a story, it's one that emerges from the record in the form of briefly glimpsed fragments and evocative moods. The decidedly upbeat "Before it Walks" has the narrator saying "I didn't see nobody, I couldn't finger anyone." The minor-key stomp "Arizona Blacktop Company" describes a man who "calls himself Tex, but can't have a drink with his boys" and the narrator in "In Your Hour of Rescue" declares that "I'm sober now, in my head." Lyrics like this sketch a picture of a character with a shady past and an uncertain future, but it's not as prescriptive as, say, Tommy. This also might vary from listener to listener. It's a testament to the quality of the record that the songs stand up without requiring any connection amongst them. As a listener, I feel like there's some grander meaning lurking beneath the surface, which is a compelling reason to re-listen.
"Ships From Prison to Prison" is a contemplative, quiet acoustic ballad, seeming to focus lyrically on the mutable nature of existence. "Every Moment Flame On" is more anthemic, with a shuffling drum beat behind a shimmering, soaring chorus. This tonal shifting is all over the record, from the angry intensity of "Bad Baby Blue" to the zoned-out, near drone of "Stars on All Night." While the acoustic guitar is omnipresent on the record there's no stagnation or complacency. There are also some electrified moments which keep things fresh, notably the dirty, half funk riff of "The Gasoline Drinkers." There's enough sonic diversity here to keep listeners engaged, while hewing to a certain consistency of vibe.
-Brian Friedt

THE AGIT READER
Gringo, the seventh Circus Devils album, follows the group's "formula" in the sense that each record bears little resemblance to those that came before it. The album noticeably leans primarily upon acoustic guitars, minimizing the synth atmospherics and general weirdness that have been among the few Circus Devils trademarks. Gringo provides some memorable moments, but is overall uneven. By far, Gringo is at its best during its quieter, more introspective moments. "Stars Out All Night" contains a haunting vocal melody that is given proper breathing room, with only guitar and subtle synth accompaniment. A similar approach is followed for "Ships from Prison to Prison," which features a tender vocal that ranks among Pollard's best work. While songs like these aren't enough to make Gringo into a classic, they do prove that Pollard can still put together quality material that will satisfy his faithful fan base and hold the attention of casual listeners.
- Ron Wadlinger

This trio's been through some bizarre twists and turns over the course of their creative evolution, manifest mostly in abstract, semi-psychedelic doodling that's found consistently solely in the fact that they've been difficult to decipher. Gringo streamlines the template somewhat, even offering songs that could be described as amiable and accessible - the subdued acoustic rumination of "Ships from Prison to Prison," the lilting "Before It Walks," and the wide-eyed pop sentiments of "Every Moment Flame On" being the most notable. Still, anyone thinking the band has entirely abandoned its penchant for weirdness need not worry. As the album meanders through its 16 songs, Pollard and pals plot an unsteady course, from a cosmic call to arms ("Monkey Head") to eerie encounters ("Arizona Blacktop Co.," "Hot Water Wine") and what can only be described as basic stutter and strum ("In Your Hour of Rescue") or psych and sprawl ("Stars Out All Night").Happily, then, the album ends on a meditative note, via the undulating, atmospheric instrumental "Yellow Cloud." It seems a somewhat unlikely end to these cloudy proceedings, but as Circus Devils are so wont to prove, sideshow antics can be confounding.
- Lee Zimmerman.

SKYSCRAPER
Gringo may be Circus Devils' best. It's tuneful yet weird, and in light of some of Circus Devil's past experimentalism, surprisingly accessible. It displays an interest in early 1970s progressive and 1960s psychedelic rock, but remains grounded in the Midwestern soil. The short and sweet "When the Beast Falls Down" is especially lovely and tuneful. "Hot Water Wine" is colorful, sparkly, and luminescent. If I had to compare them to other bands, it would be to psychedelic-era Beatles and Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd. Good stuff.
-Michael Snyder