King Crimson
Earthbound

About this album, which concludes one of the many phases in the history of the ingenious King Crimson, there's been said a lot, more and also other things: useless, horrible, raw, bootleg and not even one of the best etc... Many negative comments and some perhaps too harsh.

"Earthbound" was indeed released in conjunction with the disbanding/pause after the album "Islands," and it includes some extracts from the 1972 American tour, during a period of strong internal misunderstandings in the group, especially due to the classic "Robert Fripp against everyone" situation.

The first thing that catches the ear from these recordings is the very spartan quality of the sounds, which justifies the definition of "official bootleg" attributed to the work. Those who are purists of crystal clear sound might remove the album from the stereo or turntable after 30 seconds and rush to get rid of it at the first vintage market, if not leave it to gather dust. And both would be big mistakes.

The first track is the famous "21st Century Schizoid Man," presented in a decidedly unorthodox manner, given the heavy distortion and harshness of Fripp's guitar and Boz Burrell's almost shouted vocals, who is also the bassist out of necessity (but with a good touch). The track drags on disorderly until the next unpublished song, "Peoria," which brings to the forefront the true substance of this album, that is, Mel Collins' winds that overshadow any other instrument. The piece is very jazzy and almost seems like a "sloppy" improvisation from a rehearsal room, but the musicians know their stuff, and it shows.

The next track is from the LP "Islands," "A Sailor's Tale": here one can finally enjoy a good performance by Fripp and an overall cohesiveness of the band as a whole. Excellent piece, perhaps the best of the bunch, if only because in this song the personality of all the instrumentalists comes out, otherwise suffocated by the dominant sax.

"Earthbound," the next track, is similar to the previous "Peoria," meaning an improvised jazz-rock dominated by Collins' winds; decent although it lacks a real punch, due to the undefined structure of the piece. The album concludes with "Groon," retrieved from some early b-side and worthily proposed to close it all.

What can be said about such a work? Certainly, the internal tensions and the uncertainty of the immediate future are felt, as the group will stop for a few months (only to return to amaze with the great "Lark's Tongues In Aspic," and a renewed lineup); the singer Boz Burrell will go on to seek fortune with the more digestible Bad Company and the Collins/Wallace duo will part with bitterness from the leader.

The album itself is undoubtedly unrefined (even the artwork is modest, but elegant), it doesn't move a comma in the history of King Crimson, but for those who know the group’s '70s by heart, it is undoubtedly an interesting purchase.