NYC's Electronic Post-Punk Band, Public Circuit Builds Their Own Modern Church

Electronic music? Syth pop? New wave, post-punk? Labels only scratch the surface. Public Circuit is a Brooklyn trio running the genre of post-punk through a distinctly electronic circuitry, refracted through a medieval, theological lens. Their music is danceable in form, layered with lyrics that draw on theology, myth, and shifting notions of gender and identity.

Public Circuit formed through a string of coincidences — with Ethan Biamont first linking with drummer Sean Holloway, then guitarist/producer Nelson Fisher joining after a DIY show. Their debut Lamb (2022) was largely Biamont’s vision, but Modern Church signals a collective shift, shaped by Holloway’s percussion and Fisher’s production in what the band calls “remixing ourselves.”

What follows is a conversation with Biamont and Holloway about serendipity, shared authorship, and why Modern Church marks less a continuation than a genesis moment for the band.

Credit: Public Circuit

Cheryl: Hey guys, thanks for wanting to do this interview. 

Ethan Biamont: I’m surprised anyone cares about what I have to say, but it’s still cool and flattering.

C: I’m excited to hear what you guys have to share. Let’s start of with this — how did you guys meet? 

EB: Sean and I have been telling this story a lot. I feel like we all met just by happenstance — no mutual friend situation, no setup. I was at Market Hotel in Brooklyn talking to random people, told this guy I was looking for a drummer, and he goes, “I know a guy.” I’ve heard that before, so I didn’t think much of it.

But then Sean messaged me on Instagram, said, “Hey, you wanna come to my practice space and play sometime?” We ended up meeting that day, hung out all day, and got vegan diner food.

Sean Holloway: We hit it off immediately. I invited Ethan to a birthday party that weekend, which was the second time we hung out, and everyone liked him. I was impressed by his clear vision, discipline, and how funny he was. 

EB: Later, Sean and I met Nelson when we played his solo show at a DIY venue called Chaos Computer in Greenpoint. I walked up to him and said, “Your music’s really good, we should go on tour sometime.” Nobody came to that show, but it was fun. We went on a short tour, and by the end of it, we asked him to join Public Circuit. It took a while to fully settle into being a three-piece, but over the last year it’s really become more of a unit.

Credits: Neptunne // Nicole Miller

C: That’s so serendipitous. On your first album Lamb, which felt like when the band was still crystallizing, and now with Modern Church coming — how has your relationship to being a band, or even to each other, evolved since those early sessions?

EB: Definitely changed a lot. We toured for about two months last year, so we were together constantly playing music every night, figuring out what works and what doesn’t, listening to music in the car together and becoming closer as friends. When we got back, we talked about everyone wanting to be more involved creatively. 

With Lamb, I had a collection of songs we played live, but they were basically my recordings. With Modern Church, I brought in demos, we cut some, kept others, and polished them together. It was much more collaborative.

SH: I don't have other friends that I spend this much time with or share how much we deeply care about things like music. It’s beautiful. Our relationship is always changing and growing. I remember telling Ethan, “I need to be on the record.” In my last band, I arranged songs and wrote together with the others, and I wanted that again. 

EB: The idea was always for Sean to be on the record, and Sean’s passionate — when he really wants something, I hear about it a lot. Nelson transformed the demos production-wise, Sean and I worked on drums and percussion, and then the three of us would sit together, almost remixing our songs. Sometimes we changed them a little, sometimes a lot.

C: I really like the name Modern Church. Outside of its theological definition, it could mean so many things. What does the phrase unlock for each of you?

EB: You’re hitting the nail on the head. There’s religious imagery in there, but it’s not meant to be taken literally. This album does take a lot of inspiration from religious imagery, theology, and its adjacent, but everyone has their own temple or church — something they worship or idolize. It could be your phone, working out, anything. Sometimes it’s masochistic. Sean and I have talked about AI being like a modern church, where people put faith in it like it’s a God, and we find ourselves in the church of this artificial intelligence age, where everything is starting to be controlled. I also grew up around religion, so those metaphors are natural for me.

C: In songs like “Samson,” you talk about gender, myth, and masculinity. What other ideas run through your songs, and what does it mean to free yourself from the constraints of strength?

EB: Religious motifs are at the forefront, but they're really just analogies for other ideas, like gender identity and expressing it outside the binary structure. A character like Samson is the pinnacle of masculinity, a freaky guy with long hair. His mask, strength, and masculinity are all connected by something. I think that’s an interesting way to explore how identities are tied to certain things. I like having long hair because it makes me feel feminine, but masculinity is fragile, and gender isn’t black and white. These are personal and relatable ideas for me.

C: Do you think about how you perform gender identity on stage?

EB: On stage, I’m not thinking about how people perceive me or thinking about anything at all for the matter of fact. It’s like I black out and we’re all really locked into the moment.

SH: We stayed with my friend, Random, in Seattle, and his girlfriend Annabel said she was taken aback by Ethan’s stage presence because he seemed socially quiet, but on stage, they just lose their mind — and that’s their actual soul coming off in real life. I think music is the perfect conduit for your true self to come out. For me, playing drums is the best thing I’ve ever done in my life, and its the most expressive I ever feel — it’s pure, cathartic, and real.

C: There’s a distinctive palette to your music — I hear ’80s new wave, post-punk, maybe Molchat Doma. What were you listening to while making Modern Church?

EB: People think we listen to a certain set of bands, but not really. Kate Bush’s Hounds of Love, Ministry’s Twitch, the first couple Abe Vigoda records, a song by Holy Fuck, some New York bands. The last Model/Actriz record is great, but came out after we finished ours. Also, The Faint from Omaha, Nebraska.

C: What draws you to synthesizers, especially when so many bands are going shoegaze?

EB: I started making electronic music out of the stagnancy and boredom with guitar. I was wondering, “How do I write a song that feels interesting with a guitar?” 

I fell down this rabbit hole and wanted to mix rhythm, percussion, and acoustic elements with electronic music. That was the idea for Modern Church, and we’ll take it up a notch in the next record, hopefully — making electronic music that’s also acoustic in some way.

C: Your world-building has a gothic, fantastical, and glitchy vibe. How does that express something that music cannot?

EB: Public Circuit isn’t just music — it’s all the art I make for it. Music and visuals are tied together in my mind. It’s one big project to create a world in which our music exists in and the work is always changing. It was medieval before, now it’s turning into something of its own accord. I’m a huge nerd, so this is a great outlet for that.

C: When touring settles down, what else are you itching to do? And are there any festivals you want to tick off the bucket list?

EB: Next year, all I want to do is play a bunch of festivals. In this lifetime, Glastonbury would be fucking sick and open up for some bands like Kneecap.

SH: I wanna go to Ireland real bad.

EB: I was upset we were going to the UK and that we weren’t in Ireland. Scotland, too, and Sled Island Fest in Calgary. When I was 16, I saw a video of Women playing there and Public Strain is probably my favorite record ever. 

Modern Church comes out on September 12 via à La Carte Records. Pre-order it here.