king crimson - earthbound

In the wake of Tuesday's masterful gig at the Hackney Empire I dug out Earthbound. This was recorded live in early 1972, and was the last tour that Mel Collins had done as a member of King Crimson, before now.

 

First off - what a bloody awful racket. Recorded onto cassettes at the mixing desk, this is rather lo-fi Crimson. Now, poor recording quality doesn't necessarily mean a poor album, if the music's good. 

 

But, mostly, it isn't.

 

The title track of the album kind of sums up what's wrong - all the band, bar Fripp, attempt a bluesy jam. Fripp sits on his stool and attempts to drag them back to gnarly angular rock by playing horrid noises on his guitar. Bassist Boz, saxophonist Mel Collins and drummer Ian Wallace defiantly ignore these attempts until Mr Grumpy just shuts up. The tension in the group is clear for everyone to hear.

 

There are some good points - arguably the heaviest "21st Century Schizoid Man" I’ve ever heard flattens everything in it's path, with Mel providing some genuinely frightening sax playing. The guitar parts are ferocious too, Fripp's anger and unhappiness clearly channeled into the monstrous riffs. 

 

The incomplete version of "The Sailor's Tale" is half impressive - Ian Wallace's drumming is superb - but half disappointing - the savage slashing guitar solo of the original is abandoned in favour of a far less successful approach. And then we have "Groon" - whilst sloshing the VCS3 synth over the drum solo might have seemed avant garde (maybe) back in 1972, now it's wearisome and irritating. Something that might have made for a fun diversion in a concert setting comes across as noisily unmusical and headache inducing on record. The distortion caused by the poor recording quality doesn't help either.

 

As the more recent DGM releases of other concerts by this band have shown, they could, and frequently did, perform some cracking gigs. So quite why Fripp issued Earthbound at all is rather baffling. He clearly didn’t like jazzy, bluesy freeform jams he put within the album's none-more-black sleeve. Perhaps the Unhappy Gigster wanted to somehow document the audible break up of the band. Though why he then had to inflict it on his bespectacled, hirsute and very earnest record buying audience is something of a mystery.

Mel, Ian and Boz remained in the USA at the end of this tour and together they backed bluesman extraordinaire Alexis Korner for some time afterwards. Light years from the complexities of Crimson.

 

Fripp returned to the UK, downheartedly considering his position as a musician. But then he recorded “The Heavenly Music Corporation” with Eno and felt inspired again. Music that only King Crimson could play came flying by his ears so he set about forming the Larks’ Tongues quintet – and that’s another story entirely. 

 

 

king crimson - hackney empire 08 september 2015

King Crimson has been around, in some form or another, on and off, since 1969.

But never quite like this.

The new, seven man, line-up of Crimson is fronted by three drummers. And I mean fronted. Right across the stage, with the remaining four musicians ranged across a riser behind the formidable percussion sets. Robert Fripp, the guitarist who claims not to be the leader of King Crimson (the band is still, it seems, merely 'a way of doing things') is nonetheless the only musician to have been a member of every Crim formation.

The rest of the current band is:

Mel Collins on saxophones and flutes (previously a member of King Crimson between 1970 and 1972).

Tony Levin on basses, stick and vocals (previously a member of King Crimson at various times since 1981).

Jakko Jakszyk on guitar and vocals (and occasional flute). Never been in Crimson before but has worked extensively with Robert Fripp and fronted the 21st Century Schizoid Band which was made up of King Crimson alumni (including Mel Collins) and which played much of the KC 1969-74 repertoire when the actual Crimson was not doing so.

Pat Mastelotto, Bill Rieflin and Gavin Harrison on drums and percussion. Pat has been a member of KC since 1994, Gavin since 2008 and Bill (who also plays digital mellotron) has worked extensively with Fripp for many years.

Introductions out of the way. What about the performance?

In a word - magnificent.

But I can't just leave it at that. I just can't. 

The show began, promptly, just after 7.30. Lights down, the various Crims took to the stage after an amusing 'please don't take photos' announcement, and the lengthy percussion intro to "Lark's Tongues In Aspic (part one)" started, almost imperceptibly. Gradually the tinkling noises got louder, the insistent rhythm of the piece more urgent, and the whole thing got louder. Much louder. In the ornate and historic Hackney Empire King Crimson seemed determined to shake the foundations loose. But although the gig was loud, the sound was brilliantly mixed. You'd think that the frontline of drums would utterly overpower the rest of the music. I can't speak for the front row of the stalls, but up on the front row of the balcony the sound was superb and somehow the drums were, impressively, an integral but not dominant part of the mix.

The songs simply flew by. Mixing relatively recent Crimson pieces like "The ConstruKction Of Light" (a complex guitar duet over baffling rhythms) with tracks like "Epitaph" (absolutely spellbindingly beautiful, drenched in mellotron strings, a soaring vocal from Jakko, and not performed live since 1969) this truly was a career spanning set. Virtually all previous Crimson line-ups have all but ignored preceding incarnations - not any more. The Adrian Belew era songs seem to have been dropped (Fripp has indicated that he's more than happy for Belew to carry on performing these with his Power Trio or with the Crimson ProjeKct, a sort of modern Crim offshoot / tribute band with Belew, Levin, Mastelotto and Markus Reuter), but instrumentals from that period remain, and Mel Collins plays saxophone where Belew's vocal lines would have been on "The ConstruKction Of Light".

But mainly it's the 1969 - 74 repertoire that has been re-invigorated by this new band. Songs like "Easy Money" and "The Letter" simultaneously remain scrupulously faithful to their 1970s studio versions, whilst also sounding totally fresh new and extremely modern. I'm not entirely sure how this is possible, but somehow that's what happens. Instrumentals such as "The Talking Drum" are frighteningly fearsome, the sheer power of the band pushing the intensity of the piece to new levels. "The Sailor's Tale" remains a live highpoint - just as it was in 1971/72 when it was last performed. The mix of threatening guitars and percussion giving way to Fripp's astonishing slashing solo before the 'tron fires up again for the home straight. It's a bit of a shame that an actual mellotron doesn't grace the stage, but I imagine that Rieflin's digital version is about a billion times more reliable than the notoriously temperamental real thing.

In amongst the oldies were a number of brand new pieces, the first new Crimson material in over a decade. And, gratifyingly, all these pieces held their own when slotted in next to a propulsive "VROOOM" or epic "Epitaph". Some of the new tracks were percussion workouts, but a couple had vocals - "Meltdown" and "Suitable Grounds For The Blues" - and were grinding, werning tracks, perfectly Crimson.  

For me though, the concert really blew the roof off towards the end. "21st Century Schizoid Man" was always going to be a monster, but this version was incendiary, complete with a frantic Gavin Harrison solo - how does he manage to hit so many things, so quickly and with such astonishing precision? It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, I was captivated by the maelstrom of music blasting from that stage. I genuinely thought that nothing could top this, but then King Crimson played "Starless".

"Starless" is an acknowledged classic, arguably the greatest song in the Crim repertoire, but until last week it had never ever been played live in the UK. Beginning gently, beautifully, with a lovely vocal over a calming mellotron / guitar duet, the song deceptively draws you in. Fripp's pure guitar tones are just magical. After the initial sung part the song dissolves into an complex guitar motif over Levin's superb bass - Jakko began this, before somehow Fripp took it over without anyone noticing... This part ratcheted up the tension to almost unbearable levels, before the band seemingly explodes all over the place, Mel's sax going nuts, Fripp, sitting calmly as ever, but playing some incredibly powerful slashing chords. The percussionists were again quite stunning. The initial melody eventually reasserts itself but this time full of such power and fury. It's an awesome track, and this was probably the best I've ever heard it (and I've heard, literally, dozens of versions of "Starless" thanks to Fripp's meticulous issuing of the Crimson archives). This was simply amazing. I've never experienced music quite like it.

After that the encores could only be a slight anti-climax - but only very slightly as the encore was the storming 1 2 of "The Talking Drum" into "Larks Tongues In Aspic (part two)" followed by a majestic "Court Of The Crimson King". This seemed like such a perfect song to end on that it's a surprise that tonight was the first time it actually closed the show.  

All in all, it was an 11/10 gig, surpassing my expectations by quite some margin. I'd read lots of good things about this new version of King Crimson, and I'd seen the set lists so far performed, but I still wasn't prepared for the sonic experience. There was no banter, no Hello London, not even a thank you, actually. The band simply let the music do the talking. The sound was superb, extremely clear, loud, powerful with loads of dynamics and space - this must have taken some doing considering the sheer amount of music that was actually being played. Just balancing the percussionists must have been a nightmare, but the sound was excellent. I especially liked the way the three drummers complemented each other - one would begin, another would continue and the third would complete the run, as if it was all one six handed drummer. The precision and attention to detail was amazing. The sheer amount of things they had to hit was mind boggling. 

From the balcony we had a wonderful view of everything that was happening on the stage. The lighting was simple, just clear white lights on the band for the whole gig, except for a moody deep red that descended over the musicians during "Starless". But we didn't need a lightshow, it would only have distracted from the skillful musicianship on show - there was so much of that to see anyway. 

Enough rambling. I hope that this isn't the last time I get to see the King, but I suspect it might be. Revisiting all periods of Crimson is so uncharacteristically crowd pleasing of the contrary old goat that is Robert Fripp that I can't help thinking it's perhaps the last hurrah for this band. If it is, what a way to bow out. If it isn't, and I really hope it isn't, then I'm definitely on for the next time! 

giles , giles and fripp

I'm off to see the new(ish) seven man King Crimson next Tuesday, and very excited I am too.

 

So today's music takes me right back to where it all began. Nope, not In The Court Of The Crimson King, but to the year before that landmark album, when a peculiar little record was released. It was called The Cheerful Insanity Of Giles, Giles and Fripp.

Drummer Michael Giles and his bassist brother Peter Giles had been members of a number of Bournemouth area bands for some years and in the summer of 1967 decided to form their own group. They advertised locally for a singer who could also play keyboards. For reasons now lost in the mists of time Robert Fripp was hired - a non-singing guitarist. Undaunted by this, the group moved to London to seek their fortune. Renting a house in Brondesbury Road they recorded a huge number of excellent quality demos in their front room (thanks to the Giles brothers having a Revox that had been modified to allow complex overdubbing). Peter Giles reluctantly sang, but his very English delivery rather suits the very English subject matter of the humorous vignettes that GGF was writing. In early 1968 Deram Records signed the band and the album The Cheerful Insanity of Giles, Giles And Fripp was swiftly recorded.

 

It's delightfully bonkers, surely the very definition of English whimsy. And terrifically good fun. It's all very dated now; in fact it was probably rather dated back in 1968 to be honest, but there's a peculiarly appealing quality about the whole album. Some of the songs are actually very good - "Thursday Morning" and "One In A Million" are quite Pepper-ish with a very McCartney-esque music hall feel and both were issued as singles. Some of the instrumental work is fiendishly complex - Fripp's guitar runs are incredible and his "Suite" even has some passages that would be re-used in "The Song Of The Gulls" on Crimson's Islands. 

 

And then there's the two narrative pieces - Peter Giles' "Just George" is merely silly wordplay, but Fripp's "Saga Of Rodney Toady" displays a Milligan-esque humour in both the writing and delivery. Fripp adds lots of odd pauses and stutters such as 'Rodney was so… ffffat and ugly'. I love the way Fripp tells of how girls would all run away when Rodney stepped onto the dancefloor, making him look 'even more foolish than Nature had intended…' 

 

Sadly, the singles extracted from the album proved to be smash flops, and the album sold poorly. However GGF forged on, adding a keyboard playing saxophonist / flautist - Ian Macdonald - who contributed to further home demos, as did his girlfriend, folk singer Judy Dyble. In 2001 some of these 1968 demos were issued as The Brondesbury Tapes.  There's a gorgeous version of "I Talk To The Wind" with Judy's lovely clear vocals, amongst many other very pretty tunes such as "Under The Sky". What's interesting to Crimson fans is that some of these demos were later adapted and expanded into King Crimson tracks - for example parts of "Passages Of Time" became the various "Peace" tracks on In The Wake Of Poseidon.

Judy Dyble soon dropped out but Ian's friend Peter Sinfield began helping out with the words. Then, at the end of 1968, Peter Giles decided to get a 'proper' job. Sinfield called in his friend Greg Lake, who could both sing and play bass. But with Lake in place it soon became clear to the remaining Giles and Fripp that the band had now morphed into something altogether different, and very different music was swiftly emerging. The whimsical wordplay of GGF had fallen by the wayside, in favour of something much heavier. Together the musicians came up with a new band name to reflect the new sound - King Crimson…

 

king crimson - live at the orpheum

King Crimson released their new album recently. And that's not a sentence I ever expected to writing in 2015. 

Live At The Orpheum was recorded in Los Angeles at the aforementioned theatre at the start of October last year. It's what Fripp would term a Calling Card from this new line-up of the Crims, being only a snapshot of the King Crimson's latest set list at a snappy 45 minutes long.

But what a cracking 45 minutes they are.

After a brief intro which concludes with the coda of the orchestra tuning up from the Islands album and Fripp's voice intoning 1 2 3, 2 2 3 the band viciously slam into "One More Red Nightmare", never played live until last year's tour. The three drummers run with Bill Bruford's original percussion lines and embellish and expand. The stereo placement sticks Pat Mastelotto on the left, Bill Reiflin in the centre and Gavin Harrison on the right, just as they were on stage, and much fun can be had hearing this on headphones as the drummers trade beats.

"OMRN" is terrific, perhaps not quite as thrashy as the original, but this is not a young man's band anymore and a little restraint is to be expected. To put things in perspective, both Fripp and Tony Levin will be 69 in a few months, Mel Collins will be 68 shortly and Jakko, Pat Mastellotto and Bill Reiflin are all in their late 50s. Gavin Harrison - the youngest member of the band - is a mere 52. As I said, not a young man's band, not at all…

There's only one new track on this disc - a short percussion piece which doesn't really do anything. It's nice enough, but unremarkable.

"The ConstruKction Of Light" follows, all interlocking guitars and clever bass with Mel Collins basically subbing for Belew's now missing vocals. It's one of those songs that really impresses the listener with how horrendously difficult it must be to play. 

Then two from Islands - "The Letters" which is solid, but never a favourite of mine, and "The Sailor's Tale" which is absolutely wonderful. Probably the highlight of this album, it has a power and intensity which is, frankly, rather surprisingly as powerful and as intense as the original. Fripp recreates his famous solo with glee and the digital mellotron (played by drummer Reiflin) is just as menacing as the old creaky 1971 analogue version. And Mel Collins is an absolute star on this one. 

The album ends with "Starless". I've played this a few times now and I'm still not sure what to make of it. The opening part is lovely, as always, Fripp's pure guitar sound is gorgeous. The middle section, all tension and that fiercely repetitive building and building is handled brilliantly, and the explosive closing section is all present and correct. But there's something lacking I feel. Not entirely sure what it is, but perhaps the climactic conclusion isn't quite climactic enough. I can't really explain it, but I don't think it quite has the emotional intensity of all those 1974 live versions that I have heard in the Starless and Road To Red box sets. 

Anyway, full concerts from this tour are likely to be made available shortly, which will be great as this album is missing loads of superb performances - "Larks' Tongues I" and "II", "Schizoid Man", "Red" with added saxophone and loads more.

Looking forward to the UK dates in September enormously. Another sentence that I never thought I'd write in 2015 - new King Crimson concerts. Wonders never cease!!

rambling thoughts - bryan ferry can't dance

BBC4 showed the classic Roxy Music at Frejus Arena gig a while back and I recently got around to watching it. I've seen this August 1982 show many times before but it's always worth another look.

 

It was recorded at a beautiful Roman amphitheatre in the south of France, a terrific venue for the louche cool of Roxy (and King Crimson was the support act that night!). This is Roxy Music on the Avalon tour and what a darned fine show it is.

 

Excellent musicianship, cracking performances, and loads of Bryan Ferry lolloping across the stage in a weird attempt to dance. His singing was spot on, but the man simply cannot dance. He hasn't got a funky bone in his body. Every movement is jerky, out of time and supremely awkward. He's always been like it, but the gently insistent funkiness of the Avalon era band seems to inspire him to attempt to dance more than usual at this show.

 

The result is the King Of Cool basically doing embarrassing Dad dancing.

 

steven wilson - the raven that refused to sing...

I'm listening to a sneaky early download of Steven Wilson’s upcoming album The Raven That Refused To Sing (And Other Stories). I love the nicely pretentious title, and at times the music is like jumping back 40 years. Imagine Zappa’s early / mid 70s ensembles playing with the Mahavishnu Orchestra underpinned by Crimson’s Bruford / Wetton rhythm section (all that heavy thud work and monstrous complex drumming), and you are kind of approaching the density and sheer bonkers-ness of this music. 

But it sounds oddly modern too - the production is amazing, as you'd expect with SW, and it sounds so immediate; on headphones the band is all around you. 

There’s mellotrons and flutes too, which are clearly a nod to early King Crimson, but also some very pretty melodies as well as some heavy riffing and insanely complicated stuff too. It made me smile a lot too, which is always a good sign. The music is endlessly fascinating and actually quite exhilarating. The title track is uplifting and epic and claustrophobic and personal and downright emotional all at the same time. Quite a feat. 

I can’t think of anyone else creating this complex, yet still accessible jazzy, rocky, proggy, fusiony music like this these days. Wilson is absolutely in a field of his own. There’s even some seriously sharp guitar shredding courtesy of Chelmsford’s own Guthrie Govan, now a permanent fixture in Wilson’s band it seems. Whilst I’m doing fine with my MP3 download at the moment it’s very clear that the cd will sound incredible on a decent system.

steven wilson - get all you deserve

Today’s music is Steven Wilson in concert earlier this year in Mexico City.

It’s the soundtrack to his new dvd / blu-ray called Get All You Deserve, which I don’t actually have yet, but it's on my list. Rather annoyingly the double cd version is only available with the blu-ray, but the internet has all sorts of goodies if you know where to look and so I now have a shiny FLAC copy… And it sounds mighty fine. Beautifully crystal clear recording, as you’d expect from Steven Wilson, not too loud either, not brickwalled and clipped like so many albums these days, so the loud bits sound significantly louder than the quiet bits, and there’s lots of contrast. It actually sounds like a real band, playing real instruments at real volumes. The band is superb, with Wilson conducting and directing as much as he’s playing, so the whole thing comes across a bit like Zappa’s bands of the 1970s, mixed with King Crimson and some early 70s fusion. In fact with all the mellotron, flute and frankly groovy electric piano on display you’d be forgiven for thinking that it was actually 1972. But this is very sharp stuff, not woolly prog rambling, and even the more improvised passages are precise and controlled – plus there’s some satisfyingly heavy shredding at times.

There’s no Porcupine Tree, the music all comes from Wilson’s two solo albums, plus one new piece. Interestingly, although the tracks really don’t deviate much from their studio templates, the looser feel conjured up in concert really suits the pieces. The next album is being recorded as I type this, with the emphasis in the studio on the band playing as a unit and allowing lots of room to stretch out and improvise. He’s describing it as much jazzier than his previous work, which could be good, or it could be horrendous. But if Wilson’s idea of jazz is the new track, then I think we’re ok. This piece, called "Luminol" is a fiendishly complex little monster, with lashings of early 70’s Crimson. Not what I’d call jazz, but it's damn good music so who cares.