King Crimson

The almighty Crimso didn´t quite invent progressive rock (that was The Nice), didn´t make it famous (that was ELP and Yes), nor give it it´s bad reputation (Genesis, and to some extent Yes). What they did do, however, was define the genre and show the masses how, progressive rock, in the right hands, should be done. Their 1969 masterpiece, In The Court of the Crimson King was undoubtedly the album that started the whole craze and got people excited about this new kind of music. Sure, the advent of psychedelia and other such experimentation was rampant during the late 60´s, but King Crimson was one of the few bands successfully combine a few styles in a way that truly worked (in this case, it´s either jazz or classical with rock music). That´s not to say Crimson was infallible - their lineup changed on every album in the 70´s, with the band's only consistent member, Robert Fripp, going through four sets of rhythm sections in less than 5 years. Now Fripp may be a real virtuoso guitarist, and he's generally responsible for the band's direction, but he's no bandleader, preferring to sit quietly in the shadows rather than take the spotlight. He's a writer of (sometimes) tight and powerful instrumental jams, not a writer of songs, so needless to say the quality of the band's albums didn't really depend much on Fripp but rather the quality of the men at his side. With such an erratic lineup the band was never able to put together a string of quality albums the way that Genesis, Yes, or even ELP did.

I´ve got to say a few words about Robert Fripp - he´s generally known as being a real asshole and something of a prog rock primadonna, refusing to sign things, stopping shows when someone takes a picture, running away from fans, etc., etc....he´s one of the few people in music that truly doesn´t care what anyone thinks of him. Is it a good thing? This has certainly transferred over to the music - Fripp releases whatever he wants without any fear of bad reviews, meaning that albums may consist of a few stunning pieces and one ridiculous, improvised piece of nothing. Or, if you´d prefer, entire albums full of nothing but atonal guitar feedback noise. Those who just start buying up Crimson albums willy-nilly are bound to be disappointed...for every true classic album they´ve put out, there´s an unlistenable garbage one, and due to the constant lineup changes, they´re unlikely to seem to have come from the same band. This is another trait of the Crim - they could probably be divided into seven different bands, some which sound so drastically different you´d wonder why they didn´t change the band´s name (and indeed, they almost did).

The band´s original lineup was born out of the ashes of the fairly obscure Giles, Giles, and Fripp. Peter Giles left the band, but Michael stayed on drums, and Fripp of course plays the guitar. The main force of the band for the first incarnation was the multi-talented Ian McDonald, who plays the mellotron (a huge, inconvenient, organ-like instrument that would basically play a tape set to a pitch, usually used to simulate an orchestra, a huge part of the early Crimson´s sound), woodwinds and other various instruments, and wrote most of the songs. The bass player and singer was Greg Lake, before his stint in Emerson, Lake, and Palmer of course, whose voice was the band´s main attraction. The rarely mentioned sixth member was Pete Sinfield, a lyric writer.

In The Court of the Crimson King (1969) *****
On his write-up of King Crimson, John McFerrin speculated that no album was more important to its genre than this album was to progressive rock. That may actually be true – bands cropped up that would spend their entire careers trying to emulate the sound of just one of these tunes – but this has the factor of incredible inspiration that most of those bands never got. Crimson’s main advantage was that, unlike other progressive bands like The Nice or Yes, they had more of a jazz base than a blues one, and you get the sense that this could make up an incredibly talented fusion band if they wanted to. Instead, you get the pompous but entirely convincing vision of Ian McDonald and Pete Sinfield. McDonald brings many of the exotic instruments to the mix – flutes and other woodwinds, sure, but more importantly the mellotron. No, it doesn’t sound like an actual orchestra, but it really shouldn’t, anyway – let’s not forget what a “live orchestra” did for Days of Future Past. Instead we get the haunting, pitch-shifted and cosmic sounds of the mellotron, and it does wonders for the album. And, for at least this album, Sinfield’s contributions lyric-wise actually help things a lot – yeah, the man’s written his share of ridiculous couplets, but here, his visions are evocative and sweeping, and Greg Lake’s vocal performance is good enough to sell it. It all comes to a head on “Epitaph” – the crescendo is so powerful, Lake’s vocals so expressive, the lyric sentiment so desolate – that even at first listen, you know none of these guys would be able to top it later on. And then you’ve got the title cut, composed more like a symphony than a rock song, with an incredible vocal multi-track that’s amazingly transcendent. Both these cuts are the ‘meat’ of the album, but there’s much more – “21st Century Schizoid Man” was maybe even a bigger classic – distorted, acid-drenched hard rock that stutters into an exhilarating jazz-fusion session. It’s at this point you can really appreciate the chaotic rhythm section of Lake and Giles (who has got to be one of the best prog drummers out there) and the fluid soloing from Fripp. It leads into “I Talk to the Wind” – a light and pretty flute ballad that’s maybe the most melodic thing on here. It doesn’t dazzle like the other tracks, but its calming respite fits in beautifully, and for all its ridiculous sentiment (“I’ve been here and/I’ve been there and/I’ve been in-between!”) I appreciate its tunefulness.
Ah, and then there’s “Moonchild” – an insubstantial yet otherworldly ballad that cuts into a 10 minute collage of studio instrumentation. It often prompts people to cut their rating for the album to “perfect, minus one point” since they can’t justify the best possible rating for an album that contains 10 minutes of wasted space. On my first few listens I found it the same way – “this album rules, but that ruins everything”. I’ve changed my tune lately. It’s a calm-down track placed after an epic that will absolutely raise your heart rate, a piece on a classic album that cannot be memorized. The studio improvisations are slight but pleasant, calming yet unsettling. The instrumentation is all friendly tones – Fripp’s guitar is set to a soothing tone, Giles sticks to his cymbals, and there’s many atmospheric chimes and bells. It’s the sound of a band that would rather go to the abstract than risk a second-rate musical selection (a sentiment that really is appreciated) – one that found itself venturing too far into uncharted territory and found themselves needing to build a bridge. Forgive me if this all sounds laughably pretentious – this is just a terrific album, one that stands apart from all its imitators, and one of the few truly indispensible relics of the prog rock era. Let the record show at one point, this was a good idea.

Epitaph (rec. 1969, rel. 1997) ***
Unless you really want to dig into the King Crimson Collector´s Club releases, this is the only taste you can get of the ´69 Crim, and believe me, it´s more than enough. There´s two versions - the 2-disc version is the most common, but there´s also a 4-disc version out there. Don´t bother - there´s nothing new on the 3rd and 4th discs, and the sound quality is surprisingly worse, and besides there´s enough repetition here as it is. Disc 1 is a smattering from three different venues (with varying sound quality), while Disc 2 is fairly close to an entire show. What does a King Crimson show circa 1969 sound like, you wonder? Truly, a monumental event if you were actually there - the "big 3" are all performed here, and are done surprisingly well, even capturing some of the debut´s magic - Lake sounds better than ever, and Giles just goes nuts (making the Fillmore East rendition of "21st Century Schizoid Man" a huge highlight). But neither of the other songs from In The Court were performed; instead we get a few tunes that would show up on the next album ("A Man, A City", sort of a "Schizoid Man" rip, and their menacing rendition of Holst´s "Mars"...is there any other kind?), as well as those that missed the first album ("Get Thy Bearings" and "Drop In", both underwritten filler). There´s also a few completely improvised tracks that are toss-offs, not the last time this happens, believe me. So what are we left with? A wildly inconsistent Disc 1, but Disc 2 cuts out most of the fat and doesn´t repeat songs, so if you could just get that, it´s worth seeking out. Either way it rates fairly high for some amazing performances, and it´s cool to see the ´69 group stretch out into the later incarnations (the theme from "Mantra" would appear four years later...I love that kind of stuff). The early versions of the In the Wake of Posiedon tracks are neat, but dubious sound quality (which is really the album's big hindrance), a number of toss-off tracks, and a good amount of repetition make this one of many KC releases only for the true fans.

In the Wake of Poseidon (1970) ***1/2
Only one album in and there´s major personnel problems - McDonald and Giles decided they couldn´t stand the fame and jetted, while Lake wanted more, promptly hitting it big with ELP. That leaves Fripp, and, uhhh...the lyricist. Future Crimson member Mel Collins plays the sax here, Peter Giles fills in for bass, and Fripp himself takes over the mellotron. Things weren´t actually so grim - McDonald had another album´s worth of material more or less written already, Michael Giles agreed to stay for another album on drums, and with Lake agreeing to lend his voice to the album (with the exception of "Cadence and Cascade", sung by his replacement, Gordon Haskell, but it´s so inaudible that you probably won´t notice), there was a good chance to recapture some of the feeling of the debut. The problem, as often pointed out, is that there´s just too much of the debut here - "Pictures of a City" is a jazzier, less impressive "Schizoid Man", and the title track is a direct rip of "Epitaph", except a lot more pompous and artificial. There´s even a ballad in the middle with a flute solo ("Cadence"). It´s not uncommon to see a sophomore album living in the shadow of an impressive debut, but even the hardcore fans admit this was too much. Things ARE different on side two - "Cat Food", a left-over from McDonald is a nice piece of madcap pop music and the album´s best track, featuring the strange talents of Keith Tippett on piano. The rest is dedicated to the band´s rendition of Holst´s "Mars", called "The Devil´s Triangle" here. It´s a very chaotic and creepy piece of music, even going as far as to sample the previous record. It´s a tough listen, with a big chunk of the piece devoted to the sounds of mellotron torture (the instrument´s sound was unsettling enough!), but it´s also a particularly affecting one. So there´s enough good material here to fill an album, and anyone who´s a big fan of the debut will like this, but it merely hints at that album´s greatness rather than capturing it. Plus the lyrics are mostly overwrought garbage and cheap rhymes (a pretty common theme through most of Sinfield´s work), and there´s a few downright silly ideas here (the "Peace" segments, probably added just to make the tracklisting seem different than the debut). Still, given the circumstances, this is something of a triumph, and unlike some of the albums to come, it´s listenable all the way through. Recent CD versions contain the instrumental "Groon", the B-side to the Cat Food single - it´s a nicely performed piece of jazz that`s both complex and concise, and it should have made the album.

Lizard (1971) **
With all remnants of the '69 band gone and no stray tunes to rest on, Fripp undertakes the task of recruiting a new band and writing a new album, neither of which goes smoothly. I can understand not being able to find a guy as great as Lake to fill in on vocals - what I can't understand is why let a man take over whose voice is so off-key that it makes you wonder if the frog actually set up camp in his throat. And yet, that's what you get here with new bass/vocals guy Gordon Haskell. If there's anything to be said for his voice, it's that it does seem to fit the music, which is mostly a mess - the sound is dominated with mellotron and other keyboards and a lot of jazzy noodling courtesy of Collins and Tippett. Needless to say, this results in an album that just sounds ugly ("Happy Family"), although there are a few good moments to be found (parts of "Cirkus", and the short ballad "Lady of the Dancing Water"). Side two is taken up completely with a sidelong multi-part composition, which is mostly a nightmare - it's formless AND endless, with nobody really wanting to play in tune with each other. The good news is that the beginning four minutes of it consist of a great pop tune ("Prince Rupert Awakes") that features Jon Anderson of Yes on vocals (and somehow, Sinfield comes up with lyrics that are even stranger than Anderson's - "Burn a bridge and burn a boat/stake a lizard by the throat"?). That part actually does work, so it's too bad it doesn't come as its own track. This isn't to say the rest of the album is unbearable, but it'll take a number of listens (it probably took me about 10) before you can get past how darn ugly it all sounds and get used to the chaos - as talented as Fripp is, he's just not a songwriter, and his guitar playing is strangely under-represented here as he sticks to an acoustic guitar, sort of a rarity for Crimson. If only he was playing something better than this.

In case you're wondering, Haskell actually released a moderately successful folk album some 30 years later and currently has the record for "most requested song" on BBC Radio 2. Who knew? Turns out he's had a solo career all along. Now I actually have a morbid curiosity to hear it - one RYM reviewer says "I actually threw this album into the garbage when I first listened to it."

Islands (1972) **
Fripp replaces the rhythm section again, with another new bass/vocals guy in Boz Burrell, who would later join Bad Company, and another new drummer named Ian Wallace. This time, the band concentrates less on progressive anything and more on soft-jazz fusion. Unfortunately, the songwriting's still lackluster, with most of the tunes being formless ("Formentera Lady", "Sailor's Tale"). Not that they don't have good moments - "Formentera Lady" does reach a nice climax once the song takes shape, which takes nearly forever, and "Sailor's Tale" shows Fripp playing guitar and the band rocking out for a couple of minutes, which the album desperately needed. Fripp spent most of his time conducting a full orchestra, which is why the guitar is mostly MIA here - the orchestral parts are generally pretty and do a nice job of replacing the eerie-sounding mellotron, and it does result in one nice and simplistic classical piece ("Song of the Gulls"). The unfortunate thing is that it's really all the album has to offer - while the last two songs are pretty (the title track, which closes the album, even achieves off the kind of sound Fripp was actually going for), there's some pretty big missteps here. "The Letters" sounds like a Lizard outtake - it's short, but very obnoxious, as the tune switches from boring and nearly inaudible ballad to a loud, jarring, and off-key jazz section. And the single, "Ladies of the Road", features Sinfield's most sexist and groan-inducing lyrics yet (until Love Beach, anyway), and sounds like it was recorded in someone's attic. All this aside, it's still easier on the ears than Lizard was, so at least it's tougher to hate, but for anyone who's not a fanatic it's better just to skip this era of the band.

Earthbound (1972) *
This just has "contractual obligation" written all over it. It's a live album, but the source material seems to be bootlegs, and not even good quality ones at that. Yep, this is the famous "most terrible-sounding live album ever", with rumors of its recording having been done in "some guy's back pocket" or "a van outside the venue in a rainstorm" - I mean seriously, who approved this mix? And that's not even the worst of it - the band all hated each other by this point, both on and off the stage, resulting in them playing against each other throughout the majority of these recordings. Only one song escapes somewhat unscathed, and that's "Schizoid Man" - the rest of the tunes ("Sailor's Tale", "Groon", and two new ones) devolve into a jazz-improv mess in no time and stay forever (hell, "Groon" lasts 15 minutes, enough time to fit in a long, processed drum solo and a good amount of hilarious Boz scat singing). Fripp apparently tried to get this deleted from the Crimson catalogue but the album's reputation caused enough demand to get it re-released on CD, massively disappointing another generation of Crimheads who didn't do their research.

Ladies of the Road (rec. 1971-1972, rel. 2002) ***
Okay, if you really want to hear the '72 band live, I guess this is the way to do it - this is a live from the vaults recording that finally put the awful Earthbound to rest (while these recordings are hardly soundboard-quality, they beat the pants off the Earthbound ones, furthering the mystery how that album was allowed to be released). It's more or less a complete show (taken from many different venues), showing Crimson at their jazziest yet. Collins gets a lot of face time and takes the most solos, honking away at every possible opportunity, and Boz occasionally freaks out (his vocal limitations certainly crop up when he attempts to do Lake's parts, but he at least sounds like a madman during most of them), while Fripp sadly sticks mostly to rhythm. The tracklisting contains the first four tracks off Islands (everything but the orchestral stuff), and one track each from the other three albums (unless you count the blues rendition of "In the Court of the Crimson King" which disappointingly cuts off a minute in), plus "Groon", and for some reason, "Get Thy Bearings". Believe it or not, they actually handle the old material well, with "Cirkus" somewhat coming into its own - and, "Schizoid Man" shows the band may have actually had more talent than what they're usually given credit for. Well, if you liked that, you're in luck - there's a bonus disc with an hour of "Schizoid Man" improvs edited together, which purport to be some sort of jazz-fusion odyssey. It works for a little while, at least, but the sound quality gets worse and the edits harsher as it goes on. Maybe good for one listen, until you realize that just as Mel Collins goes blue in the face with some really impressive saxing to put a climax to the whole thing on the final track, the audio cuts out for a minute. Huh?? It doesn't get more frustrating than that.

Lark's Tongues in Aspic (1973) ****1/2
The Crimson King makes a miraculous recovery, throwing away the old band entirely and recruiting a new batch of talent, including John Wetton (later of Asia) on bass and vocals, David Cross on violin, crazy percussionist Jamie Muir, and the jazzy now ex-Yes member Bill Bruford on drums, begging the question that STILL burns, 35 years later - how did Yes let him go? The idea that Fripp told him he was now "ready" for King Crimson is a joke...the last three Yes albums were all classics - The Yes Album, Fragile, and Close to the Edge. And the last three Crimson albums? Lizard, Islands, and Earthbound. Huh? Turns out Billy jumped ship at just the right time - this new version of King Crimson is good enough to vindicate the band's shaky history. It's something truly progressive - the melodies are as complex and epic as many classical pieces, but it's clearly rock.
This of course means Fripp is actually playing his guitar, and the loud and crunchy tones he uses are very impressive. Cross provides most of the pretty parts interspersed between Wetton's fuzzed-out bass and Muir's wild percussion, and Bruford seems to be able to play any style at all, with his drum kit augmenting the song in more ways than simply providing rhythm - he's not as fast as, say, Carl Palmer was, but he puts a lot more feeling into it, making him perhaps the best prog drummer ever (counting his work in Yes too, of course). There's definitely a theme here - the album seems mostly based on the contrast of quiet and loud, with the quiet parts being either pretty or full of tension, and the loud parts being ear-shattering and powerful. The first part of the title track emphasizes this the greatest, but it's a theme that shows up in many of the tracks - whether it's a suspenseful, slowly intensifying jam session ("Easy Money"), or simply a increasingly loudening groove ("The Talking Drum"), which screeches to a halt (literally!) and segues into one of the crunchiest, most badass riff tracks ever (the second part of the title track). The rest is dedicated to balladry, of course a King Crimson staple (and a chance to get some vocal parts on the mostly-instrumental album) - while the short "Book of Saturdays" isn't much but a breather to lighten the tension from the first track, it does its job well, featuring an interesting backwards guitar solo. "Exiles", however, is a heartbreaking masterpiece and Crimson's best ballad, with Wetton's crooning vocal displaying more emotion than just about anything save "Epitaph". Possibly the most overlooked Crimson album, as most of the praise this incarnation of the band gets is saved for Red, but I can't imagine anyone who liked that album not being able to get into this one. Besides, it's the one Crimson album with Jamie Muir on it before he became a monk - his percussion work is truly captivating. Don't skip this one.

Starless and Bible Black (1974) **1/2
One of the main facets of this era of King Crimson was their ability to improvise, but unfortunately the band fell in love with this tendency and decided to record this album mostly live and add overdubs later. So half of this is just improv, which can work when it's kept concise and has some sort of an aim, like to be funky ("We'll Let You Know") or pretty ("Trio"), which is quite impressive for something made up on the spot. Unfortunately, the rest of the improv doesn't do much else except be formless and absolutely boring (the title track), and to make matters worse the instant one of them starts to actually kick off, the tape stops ("The Mincer") - whose bright idea was it to leave THAT in there and not do the piece over? Luckily, the written pieces salvage the album a little, but not by much - "The Great Deceiver" has an exhilarating electric violin section and interesting drumming as Bruford plays against the rhythm, but the other vocal pieces are either too sappy and overdramatic ("The Night Watch") or just too generic ("Lament") to compete with the last one. The final track is Fripp's instrumental "Fracture", which is amazing in a technical sense - I doubt even the Howe's or Hackett's of the world could play this - but it's frustrating that it runs over 11 minutes when half that could easily do. So this is certainly a mixed bag - there is a lot of raw talent here and some really good moments, but it's so unfocused it's hard to sit through the whole thing.

The Night Watch (rec. 1973, rel. 1998) **1/2
One big strike I have against live albums is if the songs sound just like the studio versions, just with sloppier performances and worse sound quality. Well The Night Watch gets an even bigger strike because these ARE the studio versions. If the Starless and Bible Black album just wasn't enough, Fripp graciously (?) released the entire concert so you can hear it without the overdubs. The performances here are fine, but as said in the liner notes, the band was having an 'off-night' (and yet it got released anyway), and besides that there is already a '73-era KC live album with much better performances (USA) - strike two. And, not only that, but the set only runs a couple minutes over 80, meaning you're paying for a 2-disc set that barely runs longer than one. Strike three - this is a terrible deal for King Crimson fans that already own Starless, and for those that don't, not only are you missing that album's best song ("The Great Deceiver"), but you're also getting tracks that were performed better on a different live album. If you don't have Starless or USA though, it's not bad - the performances aren't as fiery as they could be, but they are precise, as Fripp barely misses a note on "Fracture", which is an admirable feat by itself. Overall I'd say this incarnation of King Crimson was just too talented to ever turn in a "bad" performance, but the improvs are generally maddening and uninspired ("Trio" excepted), and they didn't have too much of that 'live presence' that separates a good live album out from the pack. If they hadn't decided beforehand to use this performance as part of their next studio album, it never would have been released as a live one. All I can think of is that it was released to be "companion piece" to Starless and Bible Black, but I kind of wish the packaging had been more clear about that.

Red (1974) ****1/2
David Cross leaves the band, having felt a bit, hmmm..."outspoken", but the upside is that now it's just Fripp, Bruford, and Wetton, which is about as tight a trio as you could imagine. This is easily Crimson's second most popular album, Red was nearly as influential as In the Court, with the difference being the influence of Red still seems to live on in today's modern prog bands such as Tool and Mars Volta. This is heavy stuff - the opening track is about as powerful and sinister as it gets, resulting in a second fantastic guitar jam out of this band (the first of course being "Lark's Tongues in Aspic, Part Two"). The rest of the album is no less evil sounding - even when the band tries to funk it's distorted and unsettling ("One More Red Nightmare"), and the ballad "Fallen Angel" is their noisiest and most depressing yet. The album's centerpiece is of course "Starless", which is simply one of the best Crimson tracks of ANY incarnation - it starts as a slow, heartbreaking ballad and goes into a now-famous ultra-tense build up, featuring a great bass line and Fripp's one-note guitar plucking, before the tension breaks and the band goes into a thrilling jam session, with Ian McDonald returning on sax (he's on "Fallen Angel", too). It's truly music for the apocalypse, should it see fit to rock this much, and a perfect end to this era of the band. This album is downright essential prog and is perhaps one of the most evil-sounding albums ever - the only downside is that they saw fit to include another meandering improv ("Providence", which DOES rock a little, but it takes too long to get to that point) - and as a result the album has a noticeable weak spot. Apparently even Crimson themselves didn't think they could top it - even though Ian McDonald offered to rejoin the band, Fripp broke up Crimson right after this album's release. Interestingly enough this is the only Crimson album to feature a photo of the band on the cover - Fripp looking stern, Bruford looking solemn and kind of dorky, and Wetton giving off a somewhat sinister-looking smile, with the entire group half-covered in shadow. It's definitely one of my favorite covers on a prog rock album.

USA (1975) ****
Crimson's second live album, recorded in 1974. Unfortunately, this is before Red, but the selection of tracks from their other two albums is definitely adequate, and the bonus tracks on the remastered version DO include an early "Starless". The live stuff from this band is generally legendary, but I'd say that's more because of their ability to improvise than anything, and luckily the one improv here is actually pretty damn good ("Asbury Park"). Otherwise the songs play mostly like slightly faster versions of the studio recordings, except the jam sections are different and there aren't as many effects (mostly due to the departure of Muir). An altogether solid performance and a run-through of "Schizoid Man" makes this a fitting farewell to the band (this incarnation, anyway). I'd say skip the other live albums of the '73-'74 and get this first.

The Great Deceiver (rec. 1973-1974, rel. 1992)
A 4-disc collection of live material from the 70's band. Definitely exciting stuff for those who were really crazy about this incarnation of the band, but I don't know if I can sit through 5 hours of this stuff, considering there's an awful lot of improv and repetition, with each disc getting its own version of "Easy Money". Looks to be some interesting stuff - there's a Red B-side ("Doctor Diamond") and a rare performance of "Cat Food" in there. I'll take it on a disc at a time and give a report later.

Discipline (1981) ****1/2
After a 7 year layoff, Fripp decides to continue King Crimson’s journey by forging a very clean New Wave group, bringing back Bruford and recruiting two talented musicians with impressive pedigrees in Adrian Belew (guitar, vocals) and Tony Levin (bass) to create what is essentially an entirely new band. Of course, Discipline is a totally new type of King Crimson record, but like their other successes it’s fascinating and unparalleled. On the surface, this is controlled, Talking Heads-style New Wave music, with funky rhythms and paranoiac vocals, but with the presence of a second guitar virtuoso, Fripp was able to write interlocking dual guitar lines that play out like an AP course in precision. The result is hypnotizing, as all sorts of neat techniques come into play, such as wrapping one guitar line of short and quick notes over the lead riffs, playing the same guitar part twice slightly out of time with each other, and using one guitar part as a basis for which to solo over. If you’re getting the impression that this is a very controlled and calculated album, you’d be right – the group is never unhinged like on previous works, and only once decides to jam out (“Indiscipline”) – all egos are checked firmly at the door. If you’re getting the impression that this isn’t really going to appeal to Crimson fans, take solace in the fact that this is no 90125 or Invisible Touch - there’s enough goofing around with time signatures and mathematically challenging solos to impress even the fans of the most technical prog rock – “Frame by Frame” features three different time signatures played at the same time! While sometimes it all feels like an academic exercise, the songwriting is all top-notch – “Elephant Talk” (with a bass technique later copped by Primus) and “Thela Hun Ginjeet” are funky and memorable, and there’s one heartbreaking ballad (“Matte Kudasai”). It’s not without its quirks – Belew pulls a lot of neat tricks like making his guitar make animal noises, and fills the lyrics with all sorts of clever (and obnoxious) wordplay. Of course, the music is the primary focus, ahead of the lyrics or any kind of showboating, as evidenced by their decision to end the record on nearly 14 minutes of instrumentals, with Bruford given a chance to lay out some meditative tribal rhythms (“The Sheltering Sky”), and the band gets one last chance to bring everything together in the title track, which really does groove despite being in 5/8 time. This is probably the King Crimson record I’d recommend to the most people – it’s too accessible to turn anyone off, and too complex to be written off - this was the balance all the prog bands were looking for in the post-punk era.

Beat (1982) **
Completely underwhelming follow-up. Yes, Discipline was kind of lethargic, but this is ridiculous - only "Neurotica" rises above midtempo, and there's nothing here that wasn't done better on the last album. The first half is listenable if you liked the last album - "Neal and Jack and Me" starts exactly where "Discipline" left off, and "Sartori in Tangier" injects a good dose of funk, but even the well-written tunes like "Heartbeat" are so undermixed and unexciting that they become a chore to sit through. Worse yet, most of the second half is garbage - okay, "Neurotica" is fun, but "The Howler" and "Two Hands" seem unfinished, and "Requiem" nothing but an obnoxious aural pileup, and seemingly Fripp's only real contribution to the album. I thought the point of the new band was not to indulge in things like this? The interesting thing about this album is that it's the first Crimson album to keep the same lineup as the previous one. I can't help but wonder now if it's the constant retooling of the band's sound based on the arrival or departure of certain members that gives the best albums their creative spark.

Three of a Perfect Pair (1984) ***
It's sad - Fripp and Belew's styles were so well intertwined on Discipline, but they fell apart shortly after, and only three years later they were so incompatible that Belew and Fripp essentially decide to take one side each and be done with it. So side one is filled with pop songs and side two with experimentation, guess which one turns out better? The good news is that Belew spins out some great tracks - "Three of a Perfect Pair" is a great pop song that makes fantastic use of the band's dual guitars, "Sleepless" shows off Levin's mastery at funk bass, "Model Man" is heartfelt and powerful, and "Man With an Open Heart" is catchy and upbeat. They're all worth hearing, and are their most radio-ready songs yet (indeed, "Sleepless" became the band's one and only single) - it's unfortunate that things take a sharp dive on the second side, with another "Mars" retread, too calculated to be exciting or even really evil sounding ("Industry"), and a couple tracks of insubstantial new age or industrial ambiance ("Nuages", "No Warning"). Fripp's one shining moment comes in "Larks' Tongues in Aspic Part Three" - not that it's got anything on parts one or two, but it features fancy fingerwork and some terrific instrumental skill...for a few minutes, before inexplicably switching to a steady industrial beat halfway through and doing nothing until the fadeout. Well, there's one interesting track on there, the short and demented "Dig Me", where Belew plays the part of a junked car. That one at least kind of works, but the sad thing is that it's also Belew's track, leaving Fripp with just about zero good contributions. Like Beat, skip this one - most of the good tracks can be found (in better form, too) on Absent Lovers.

Absent Lovers (rec. 1984, rel. 1998) *****
A live recording of the 80's band last concert in Montreal. Makes a good argument for this being the most talented incarnation of the band (instrumentally, not creatively). Pretty much all the shortcomings of the 80's band are absolved here - the sound is full and exciting, and the track selection is ace, so you won't have to sit through unfinished or lethargic cuts like "The Howler" or "Requiem". And if you ever wondered if they could produce their complex dual-guitar tricks live, be assured they can not only do it, but do it faster than in the studio! Really has to be heard to believed - pretty much every one of the studio tracks get utterly demolished here, with tunes that didn't quite reach their potential on the album getting a makeover ("Man With an Open Heart", "Waiting Man"), and the good tracks getting spruced up and rocked out ("Sleepless", "Thela Hun Ginjeet"). Even the experimental stuff like "Industry" is put to rest. Why couldn't they have made it sound like this on the records? With this, Crimson finally fulfills the promise of their talented lineup - all the guitar tricks are replicated here ("Elephant Talk", "Discipline"), Levin's bass plays fast and smooth, and Bruford actually makes the now badly-dated electronic drums sound good ("Indiscipline"). Just to prove that Fripp hasn't forgotten the badass he used to be, they do renditions of two of the mid-70's instrumentals ("Lark's Tongues in Aspic Part Two", "Red"). This is King Crimson's best live album, and unless you're a completionist I'd recommend skipping the second and third 80's albums and just picking this up instead (Discipline however I still find fascinating in a studio context as well). Just to demonstrate how energetic this is, let me relate this story - a month after buying this album I decided to have another listen to Discipline on my turntable, and was convinced the motor was malfunctioning! Yep, Absent Lovers left me spoiled as to how the 80's Crimson songs should sound, painting them as one of the most instrumentally talented bands of the entire decade.

VROOOM (1994)
After a 10-year layoff, King Crimson returned, retaining all the 80's members, as well as stick player Trey Gunn and drummer Pat Mastelotto to form a "double trio". This 6-track EP was released as sort of a preview of things to come from the band on their upcoming THRAK album. The band itself tries to reconcile the pop-based sound of the 80's with the heavy riffing of the 70's, but as expected doesn't quite nail either. Most of these tracks are repeated on the studio album, so you'll probably just want to grab that instead. The two that don't are the forgettable improv session "When I Say Stop, Continue", and Belew's short and manic "Cage".

THRAK (1995) ***1/2
The first full-length from the double trio, and it's surprisingly decent. There's a few tracks that attempt to recapture the band's 70s heyday ("VROOOM", and "VROOOM VROOOM", which even goes as far as to reuse the same middle section as "Red"), and a good amount of harsh noisemaking ("B'Boom", "THRAK"), but when it's all said and done, this is still mostly Belew's band. The pop songs are mostly good - "Dinosaur" may be a bit overlong, but it's a great model for what makes a rock song work, and the ballads "One Time" and "Walking On Air" are two of the band's prettiest yet. On the other hand, "People" is second-rate New Wave (although Levin's funky bass playing does make the song a lot better), and "Sex Sleep Eat Drink Dream" is memorable but obnoxious (particularly the atonal 'jam' section). So it's not all great, and it's not exactly a big entrance for this now twice-resurrected band, but there's enough well-written material to make this worth checking out for any Crimson fan new or old, and it's nice to see that unlike a few prog bands like ELP, they still have something to say.

B'Boom Official Bootleg: Live in Argentina (rec. 1994, rel. 1995) ***
Seems to be recorded before the release of THRAK, and seemingly before the band really knew what they were going to do with six members. If you've listened to the excellent Absent Lovers release recently, you'll probably be disappointed - even on the 80's numbers, the band doesn't have it together the way they used to, and the two new members seem completely superfluous. Plus, they have, for some reason, decided to play "THRAK" and "B'Boom" twice, not really switching it up either time. It doesn't stop the fact that this is still one of the most talented bands around, and the tracklisting covers a good smattering of the band's material (three selections from the Wetton-era band, and five from the 80's), with no real low points (besides the repeating tracks). Like it or not, it's hard to recommend when the live album VROOOM VROOOM features the same band and material performed better.

THRaKaTTaK (1996) *
Another live album, this time a collection of improvs the band played in the middle of "THRAK", linked together to form one lengthy improv. Not that I don't think this incarnation of Crimson can't come up with some good improvised material, but this certainly isn't it - it seems like most of the band is more concerned with making weird noises and using unusual tools (Belew's 'piano guitar', which just plays random notes) than making actual music. Both Bruford and Mastelotto seem to want to stay completely out of the picture, and the band as a whole seems either too scared or too out of ideas to contribute anything. Fripp has said this is what all King Crimson albums would sound like if they knew the audience wouldn't kill them afterwards (quipped one Crimson fan, "I'd be surprised if the instruments didn't kill them first!"), basically admitting that he knows the fans really don't like this stuff. Doesn't quite explain why he released this album though, now does it? I guess he wasn't satisfied with Earthbound being the worst live album of all time?

VROOOM VROOOM (rec. 1995-1996, rel. 2001) ****
Another Crimson live one featuring the double trio, this is basically better than B'Boom in every way. What a difference two years makes - the first disc is a '96 performance in Mexico City, and the band seems more ready to rock out than ever, with Bruford and Mastelotto in top form. It's not quite as great as the Absent Lovers live album, but it's damn close, which is a pretty admirable feat by itself. Features a number of surprising tracks - "Talking Drum" is resurrected, "Neurotica" gets a nice and noisy rendition that shreds the studio version, and even "21st Century Schizoid Man" is given a run-through (although Belew's voice doesn't fit the song at all, the jamming is superb). Even the "B'Boom/THRAK" stuff sounds good here, as the tracks selected run through a lot of the band's riff-heavy and evil-sounding material ("Red", VROOOM VROOOM", "Lark's Tongues in Aspic Part Two"). The downside is that disc two is taken from a live performance in New York a year earlier, and doesn't have quite the same energy. It focuses a lot more on the pop side of the band, and like the B'Boom set, it's disappointing to hear how the band has kind of fallen apart since the last decade - even "Thela Hun Ginjeet" is slowed down to include the tape and replicate the studio version. Still, it's far from being bad, and is very listenable all the way through. For some reason it also contains a solo Belew rendition of the rare Beatles song, "Free As A Bird". Altogether a very nice purchase - although disc one will surely get the most play, this is a great document of the double trio that shows what such a setup is capable of.

The ConstruKction of Light (2000) **
In the years leading up to this album, Fripp decided to fractalize the double trio into four or five different "ProjeKcts", groups of three or four band members who would play improv-only shows. The ensuing confusion and focus away from Crimson itself is probably what drove long-time members Levin and Bruford to quit, leaving the actual Crimson as a four-piece themselves. You'd think not having to write any material for five years and instead performing tons of improvised material would leave the band rejuvenated and ready to tackle a new studio album full of ideas, but it seems to have the opposite effect. Now, they're pillaging the vaults for material, resulting in a reworking of "Fracture" (arguably the best track here), and a run through of all three existing parts of "Lark's Tongues in Aspic" in order to do "Part IV" - except instead of featuring a tense atmosphere and crunchy riffing, we get an ultra-slow industrial rendition that sounds like Mastellotto replaced his kit with a couple of trash cans. Sadly, the rest of the album sounds the same - the same slow and heavy approach that bands like Tool (who Crimson would later open for) were using, but without any real material to back it up. Instead, Crimson compensates by doing the blues in a goofy time signature ("ProzaKc Blues", with Belew's voice modified to supposedly sound gruff, but it just sounds like a vocoder) and playing stupid word association games ("The World's My Oyster Soup Kitchen GET JIGGY WITH IT WHOOOOO!") over dissonant riffs. There's a few moments of sunshine here - "Into the Frying Pan" is a decent slice of nu-metal pop, and the title track features some interesting guitar work, even though that technique was done much more convincingly by the very same band nearly 20 years ago. It's just not enough.

Heavy ConstruKction (2000) ***1/2
A triple-live set from the '00 Crimson, and for something based off one of the band's lousiest studio albums yet, this is actually quite good. Okay, all the ConstruKction tunes do show up, but they sound better without the distortion pedal being constantly set to maximum (including Belew's vocals, which are much better here than on the album), and it's certainly impressive to hear that Fripp's guitar technique has actually improved since the 70's ("FraKctured"). Even if that material mostly is lame, there's quite a few gems for the Crimson Collector - a slowed down version of the non-album "Cage", a solo acoustic "Three of a Perfect Pair" and a cover of Bowie's "Heroes" (which featured Fripp on guitar in the first place), which contains a great vocal ad lib ("I will be King....Crimson!") The real meat of the set (and, in fact, the entire third disc) is made up of improvised material, and it's surprisingly great - most of which are much more menacing and satisfying than the songs from the last album. It's rife with experimentation and chaos, but the band doesn't seem to ever lose focus when they're jamming ("Improv: Munchen"), and have the capability to pull out some really whacked out stuff ("Tomorrow Never Knew Thela", "ccccSeizurecc"). It's nothing really genius or even particularly great, but for a three hour live album it's surprisingly entertaining and interesting, and coming from this incarnation of the band, that's saying a hell of a lot. The only real low point is the part where Fripp tries to confiscate a camera in the middle of a jam ("Lights Please") - I guess you could argue whether or not this is acceptable to do during a show, but it's absolutely tacky and pretentious to put on a live album - maybe Fripp was trying to scare off any future King Crimson concert-goers?

Happy With What You Have To Be Happy With EP (2003)
Another 'preview' EP, with two songs from the upcoming album - the title track, a parody of nu-metal that features some theoretically clever lyrics ("And when I have some words/This is the way I'll sing/Through a distortion box/To make them menacing!"), and Belew's "Eyes Wide Open", a fairly good ballad that was exactly what ConstruKction was missing. There's other previews contained - "Shoganai" is part of a bigger track from the next album, and the short tracks of Belew speaking through a vocoder foreshadows the beginning of it. There's also a real blues rock song that doesn't appear anywhere else ("Potato Pie") and a live run through of "Lark's Tonuges IV". The most interesting thing to me, however, was the hidden track, a collage of live snippets, strange things from the studio, bits of conversation, and what not, that at point actually suggests that this new Crimson played "In the Court of the Crimson King" at some point. So it's an interesting listen, but like VROOOM is now basically worthless.

The Power to Believe (2003) ***1/2
Not particularly revolutionary, but it's the most progressive album they've done since Discipline, even if it does little to expand on what the modern prog bands had been doing for years now. Crimson finally sounds like Crimson again - dark, heavy, menacing, and occasionally brutal. Unlike THRAK, the focus, and indeed the best material, is the instrumentals. Fripp's comfortable with playing dark, riff-heavy compositions again, even if they recall previous work - "Level Five" is essentially a more modern sounding version of "Red", with a stellar chord progression and interesting percussion work, as Mastelotto experiments with glitchy drum sounds pulled right from the repertoire of Aphex Twin. On the same note, "Dangerous Curves" is a repetitive but slowly intensifying instrumental based on a simple riff - same idea as "The Talking Drum", but again it's a great one, especially when played loud. And "ElektriK" is quite the catchy instrumental, another complex piece for two guitars to stand with the likes of "Discipline", but unlike their other attempt this decade, it's well-written and memorable. Okay, then what's new? There's a good amount of experimentation and even some modern-sounding electronic stuff over on "The Power to Believe II", which intersperses a dark and brooding baseline with Eastern-sounding percussion. The other parts of the title track don't fare too well however, and the last two tracks seem to build up to something that just never arrives. So how are the vocal tracks? "Eyes Wide Open" is still a nice ballad and a welcome addition to a pretty heavy album, but the distorted "Facts of Life" sounds like a ConstruKction reject, and "Happy With What You Have To Be Happy With" wears thin after a few listens. So it's not entirely solid, but it still shows Crimson has a few signs of life left, and leaves a hope that the band could actually return to their former glory if they were particularly inspired to.

Appendix:
Several albums have been released over the years that don’t bear the “King Crimson” name but are definitely closely related (such as the ProjeKcts). I have collected some of these albums and will compile them here:

The Cheerful Insanity of Giles, Giles, and Fripp (1968) ***1/2
It’s known as the “infamous pre-Crimson Crimson album”, but that’s not really accurate – this is nearly a comedy album, with much more in common with Monty Python (whose “Flying Circus” show was still a year away) than In the Court of the Crimson King. Which means you’ll be treated to lots of goofy British accents and bizarre humor, with little in the way of actual jokes – the humor is more subtle, whether it’s a send-up of the Moody Blues spoken-word poetry (“The Crukster”) or a counterpoint to Ray Davies’ frequent voicing of middle-class struggles (“One in a Million”). There are a few straight-faced pop songs here (“Thursday Morning”, “North Meadow”), and a few that are obviously jokes (“Newlyweds”, “Elephant Song”), and an awful lot in-between, with a few spoken-word segments to break things up (the way Fripp purposely stumbles over his words in “The Saga of Rodney Toady” implies that he did in fact at one point have a sharp sense of humor). The music isn’t far off from the sort of swinging Brit-pop that was abundant in the late-60’s, mostly pastoral but with a few psychedelic elements thrown in for good measure. It’s actually pretty well done – most of the songs are remarkably good for a “comedy band”, Peter Giles has a nice voice and harmonizes well, and even the novelty tunes are wonderfully addictive (“Elephant Song”, which features an abundance of punch-lines that I just don’t get). As for the playing – Michael Giles plays a professional and jazzy style, and Fripp gets a moment to showcase his chops towards the end of the album with a few lighthearted jam sessions. In here you can kind of make a Crimson connection – the instrumentation sounds a lot like what they used for the “Moonchild” improve, and the beginning of “Suite No. 1” does sound a bit like “Fracture” played with a playful tone. Overall this is quite a find for King Crimson fans that also enjoy the British Invasion era because it’s a surprisingly enjoyable album that makes a nice collector’s item. Make sure you pick up the version with “She is Loaded” as a bonus track – it’s their best single, and if the market was ready for another “Happy Together”-type song, this could have been a hit.

Oh, and that is one sweet album cover – Peter Giles’ expression is perfect.

Robert Fripp – Exposure (1979) ***1/2
Perhaps Fripp will get his own page someday, but I’m largely unfamiliar with his solo work, except for this one. It’s supposed to be part of a trilogy that involved Daryl Hall and Peter Gabriel, with a couple of tracks that actually did appear on Gabriel’s first two solo albums (“Here Comes the Flood” and “Exposure”). That’s kind of surprising because a trilogy suggests some kind of unity, while this album seems to be assembled kind of haphazardly, with rock songs, instrumentals, ballads, and random experimentation thrown in somewhat randomly. The reason has something to do with the endless list of guest starts, most of which fans of the 70’s prog and New Wave scenes should recognize – Brian Eno, Peter Gabriel, Tony Levin, Peter Hammill, Daryl Hall, Phil Collins, the keyboard player from XTC, one of the Roches, and a few more obscure figures. Most entertaining is Hammill, who is true to his form by oversinging everything – “Disengage” is intense by itself, but the vocals make it downright manic, and “Chicago” is a normal jazzy ballad turned completely dramatic. By the time “I May Not Have Had Enough of Me But I’ve Had Enough of You” it almost sounds like he’s parodying himself. I almost wonder if Trey Parker was a fan. Fripp, of course, is the star, and there’s plenty of his guitar heroics here, including a “Red”-styled instrumental that sounds a lot like what King Crimson was trying to do in the 90’s (“Breathless”) and some more experimental stuff like a chaotic jam session set over an intense family argument, sounding like My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts gone horribly wrong. There’s lots of noisy and grating stuff (the shrieking vocals on “Exposure” are too much for me to handle), but also some genuinely pretty moments (“Mary”, the stripped down “Here Comes the Flood”, which is much better than the hammed-up version on Gabriel’s album), including a nice display of Frippertronics (“Water Music”, although I really could have done without that hissing noise). But it’s confusing – what’s Fripp doing writing 50’s-style rock n’ roll like “You Burn Me Up I’m a Cigarette”? It’s very much a transitional album – you can hear bits and pieces of pretty much everything the man has done from Lark’s Tongues in Aspic to Three of a Perfect Pair, and as such it’s hard to imagine digging it all – but for the serious King Crimson fan, this is essential, and it's a great 'gateway'-type album as well, as it's easy to recommend several albums based on what tracks you like here.