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Copley
Hall - San Diego, CA To
quote Robert Fripp, King Crimson can "rip out of the boundaries and
shred wallpaper at three miles..." And
who is more qualified to describe the potency behind Crimson than Fripp
himself? For over 25 years, the self-styled guitarist, de facto leader
and singular constant in the veritable angst of King Crimson has dangled
the band's legacy over a crackling fire -- randomly starting and
stopping its existence at will; shuffling the bands' personnel like a
deck of jokers, For him, King Crimson is a coveted and precious
commodity, fueled supremely by personal interest and challenge in lieu
of profits and fame. Indeed,
Fripp is the quintessential artiste with an uncompromising slant.
He intentionally steers clear of commerciality and convention due, in
part, to its banality and lack of stimulation. Consequently, King
Crimson often comes across as a dissertation of the senses -- a sonic
attack that unfolds, twists, erupts, transcends and eventually boils
into an indescribable dialogue of mellifluous proportions. There
couldn't have been a better place to witness Crimson in action than at
the Copley Symphony Hall in San Diego. Far from the clatter and
informality of the city’s sports arena, Copley caters to a classical
crowd who shy away from mosh pits and stinky restrooms. No wonder the
ushers got a bit uneasy when the band opened the show with a bombastic
"Vroom," a driving and impetuous instrumental that appears in
several different forms and arrangements on the first new Crimson album
in over ten years, THRAK. The
ushers had nothing to worry about. For all the intensity and power
dynamically dispensed by this recently reassembled rendition of the band
-- a six member ensemble referred to, in Frippian terms, as a
"double trio"-- the audience stayed glued to their seats,
politely cheering at the end of songs, otherwise totally transfixed and
hypnotically engaged in the cacophonous rumblings that tumbled out of
the clean and distortion-free sound system. Drawing
on mostly material derived from the new album, Crimson seemed intent on
simply mollifying the listener with its rich tapestries of turbulence,
incorporating the best of all styles the band has delved into over the
years. They are a progressive unit that swings and rocks, seasoned with
pinches of jazz, world and industrial strength. Just enough variety to
keep things interesting. Next
to Fripp, Adrian Belew represents the conviction and continuing
curiosity in Crimson. As lead vocalist and lyricist for the band since
their second coming in the early eighties, his quirky rhapsodies of
normalcy are hurled forth in David Byrne-like incantations. Whether or
not his words are any more discernible than previous efforts by original
lyricist, Pete Sinfield -- which eventually landed him a gig with
Emerson, Lake and Palmer -- remains to be seen. Such perfunctory lines
like, 'People pay to see two people box' cannot be taken lightly. Moreover,
Belew's skills as a guitarist cannot be underestimated. Taking cues from
former mentor, Frank Zappa, his soaring slide work and thunderous volume
swells heave and hoe within the non-linear textures set-up by Fripp,
Warr guitar prodigy Trey Gunn and bassist Tony Levin. Visually, Belew
was easier to appreciate, standing front and center while Fripp lurked
in the shadows, perched upon a stool between percussionists Bill Bruford
and Pat Mastelotto. Collectively,
this version of Crimson is far more cohesive and in sync than previous lineups. The 1974
epic “Red” received a dense and vigorous treatment, showcasing
fierce and striking virtuosity from each player. We can only hope the
temperament of Mr. Fripp will keep this combination intact for another
album or two. Opening the show was the Fripp-sponsored, California Guitar Trio. As graduates of the Fripp League of Crafty Gentlemen, the three acoustic guitarists wowed and dazzled the crowd with tastefully executed favorites like Bach's "Fugue In D Minor" and Hugo Montenegro's "The Good, The Bad, & The Ugly." After their performance, they signed autographs and hawked their CDs -- a rather odd ploy, considering they're endorsed by one of music's most elusive figures. There's just no use in trying to figure old Bob out.
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