There are some bands that conjure and not just perform music. Rosetta West, the independent blues rock outfit from Illinois, are one of them. For years, they’ve carved their path through the underground, unfazed by trends, fortified by vision. Their sound is a melting chalice of psychedelia, blues, alt/rock, and ancient world folk, bubbling with the kind of spiritual urgency that makes you sit still and listen. And now, with their single, “Circle of Doubt,” they’ve returned to my blog for the third time into that sacred musical space where existential dread meets divine longing.
“Circle of Doubt” opens in the most typically Rosetta way: a gritty, cyclical blues guitar riff, raw and looping, steeped in distortion and dark intent. There’s a hypnotic pulse to it as if it’s dragging its feet through molasses, worn out by the weight of unseen battles. I could feel the fatigue in the fuzz-laden tremble of the strings, the way they repeat like an incantation. Then, Joseph Demagore’s voice comes in — gravelly, resolute, deeply human — and with it, the desperate cry: “Gotta get out, gotta get out. Gotta get out of this circle of doubt…”
That line doesn’t just set the tone; it is the tone; a rallying cry from someone clawing at the walls of their spiritual prison. The repetition is deliberate, ritualistic, capturing the sensation of being trapped in a loop you can’t break, of mind spiraling and faith unraveling. Joe’s vocal delivery is part sermon, part lament, as if he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, shouting into the void, daring the void to shout back.
Lyrically, “Circle of Doubt” leans into mysticism and spiritual exhaustion, themes Rosetta West are no strangers to. When Joe pleads: “Oh Holy Lord, can’t you hear me calling? I fell in your fight, now I’m just fading…” it’s confessional. I felt the sting of someone who once stood tall in belief, only to crumble under the pressure of divine silence. This is where Rosetta West excels: not in offering easy answers, but in dwelling inside the ache of the question.
Despite its heaviness, there’s a strange comfort in this song — like hearing someone else scream the thoughts you’ve been too afraid to say out loud. The band doesn’t resolve the tension by the end. The circle remains unbroken, and the music loops us back to where we started, leaving us inside that same ritual mantra: “Circle of doubt / Circle of doubt…” As the final notes fade, we’re left suspended — still trapped, maybe — but no longer alone in the darkness.
Now, there’s something intensely alt-rock in the song’s production But Jason X’s co-production keeps it grounded, giving each instrument space to breathe. The rhythm section with Jay and Joe on percussion and the elusive Nathan Q. Scratch on drums doesn’t just keep time; it feels like it’s counting down to something. The groove simmers in a slow groove, never exploding, but always threatening to. In the background, trippy guitar solos meander like ghost thoughts, elevating the song’s second half with a kind of yearning that hints at transcendence — or at least the desire for it.
If you’ve never heard Rosetta West before, this is the place to start. If you have, you’ll recognize the evolution in their sound; darker, tighter, more cinematic yet still rooted in the spellbinding mystery that’s always made them stand out. With “Circle of Doubt,” they’ve proven again that their underground flame burns with a holy fire, and they’re not afraid to sing from the edge of it.
Listen to the “Circle of Doubt” on Spotify
Follow Rosetta West here for more information
