King Crimson
Absent Lovers: Live in Montreal 1984

THE REVIEW

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Red. More red. Even more red. Then the red tearing open to reveal a savannah, and in the savannah, hearing the trumpeting of elephants that I can’t tell whether they're more Indian or more African, and solitary rhinoceroses coming towards me (grrrr grrrr grrrr grrrr) among hysterical metronomic gamelantrophic guitars (sadistic ruthless eardrum violators), and in a room mirrors shattering - pieces of glass on the ground in a tremendous horrid indecipherable clamor... and running but not knowing where, and finding myself without knowing how inside King Bhumipol’s palace among disorderly, rude, possessed dancers and percussionists playing with time and mocking it - and time disjointing, overlapping, superimposing, departing but not returning, while the colors are changing or it’s simply me who sees them change...

Blue. More blue. Even more blue. And in the blue feeling a pounding kick drum among the swarm of souls in the Tangier bazaar - arabesque arabic arabesque tachycardia of relentless beats (tu/tu ta, tu/tu ta, tu/tu ta), systole of kick / diastole of snare - sharp dull thud without echo, and accompanying the kick is the gastroesophageal reflux of a Chapman Stick played by a little mustached man, and the heart bouncing ricocheting bouncing against the chest and then climbing until I feel it in my throat, uncontrollable irregular frantic beats, the sensation of hands in my hair, the rhythm rising and anxiety growing and breath lacking - and the colors changing again...

Yellow. More yellow. Even more yellow. And in the yellow, appearing lark tongues in jelly, walking climbing slipping on those tongues, and again guitars unwind like and more than those tongues, ceaselessly - relentless furious rhythm, delirium delirium delirium, then suddenly the rhythm slows and explodes/burns infernos of noise without a slit without an exit without breath, waves fogs fumes of inconclusive unended infinite despair, then the rhythm resumes and descends again, drums bass bass drums... Pulsation. Beat. More and more regular...

Stasis.

Peace.

Dead calm.

I LIKE IT !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!