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Rating:
They are approaching 50 years. Of career. Denominator, perhaps even dominator?, Robert Fripp. I have not grown tired of the sublime Orchestra. In 1969, I was unaware and innocent, missing the advent of the Manifesto. "In The Court Of The Crimson King" redefined the offering and enjoyment of rock and everything that flashes around musical culture. In the two-year period of 1973-1974, enlightened by an early fan and middle school classmate, I caught up on lost ground and crimsonized myself forever. An early listener and consumer, I might attract criticisms and reproaches by stating that my personal Crimson-era ends with "Red", spanning six solar years and seven albums. The first reincarnation, for me, was rich in technicalities, virtuosities, but the bread, that of sustenance, had run out with the tension of "Red", passing through the poetry of the debut and the moving passages of the suite "Lizard" and the wonderful constellation of "Islands". Second rebirth in the '90s, a return to the future at the dawn of the new millennium, music of the highest quality but from the heart lost, mine, just after turning the cover of "Red". The current operation, an ensemble of seven elements, then eight, is a triumph. Leaving some mid-time productions to the archives, King Crimson recover the heart of the 1969-1974 period, doing so as an act of love for themselves and for the Crimson fans who have long wandered on new frontiers, searching for the lost land, the original frontier. That's why, after recent years of performances and the gradual recovery of some of the masterpieces from the beginning, the countdown concluded in this magnificent show last June 28th in Illinois. Some parts of "Lizard" had appeared and illuminated. Now the suite is presented in an ideal measure to dazzle the spectator without exhausting them. "Fallen Angel", the piece never played live and long dreamed of by fans, lands in Chicago and captures the religious and respectful audience. Then there is "Islands". Charig's breathy poetry is now in Collins' diaphragm. Try to be less moved. I won't dwell on the setlist, or rather the royal flush. King Crimson have never been an ordinary band, but the summit. A peak as high as Everest, touched by how many others? It is my album of the year, as awaited as it is unveiled, listen after listen. "21st Century Schizoid Man" closes the show, as usual, in a version that gives you goosebumps at least as much as the mad and paranoid one screamed by John Wetton in 1973 in Amsterdam. The band recently lost Wetton and Greg Lake, the bassist and singer of the "Larks' Tongues in Aspic" revolution and the paranormal tension of "Red", and the bassist and singer from the original lineup. A better tribute to the two old companions, Fripp and the other seven monsters of Chicago could not have reserved.
Tracklist and Lyrics
04 Neurotica (04:54)
Good morning, its 3a.m. in this great roaring
city full of garbage eaters ravaging parking
spots beneath my plaza window I see cheetah in their
tight skins and tired heels all-night hippo in
the diner crossing the street swarthy herds of young
impala flambastic gibbon even a struggling monza
and over there that brilliant head ornament on that
Japanese macaque but look closely at the hammerhead hand
in hand with the mandrill, its a sight you're
unlikely to see anywhere else on the planet. . .
the stench and the noiose, yes, yes, the howlers
resonating repertoire is not too bad when mixed with
the more musical twern of the tropical warbler but the
impatient taxi blare the squawking elderly ibis and
the glass-eye snapper hawking papers I can certainly
live without also be cautious of the poisonous
boomslang laughter social droppings of the fruit bat
and purple queen fish and who's that babbler conversing
with a magazine stand? Evidently he's getting a good
reply. . .
Arrive in neurotica
through neon heat disease
I swear at the swarming herds
I sweat the foul terrain
I rove the moving scenery
I have no fin
no wing, no stinger
no claw, no camouflage
I have no more to say . . .
Say . . .isn't that an elephant fish on the corner over
there look at that bush baby mud puppy noolbenger
rhinoderma marmoset spring peeper shingleback skink
siren skate starling star-gazer spoonbill and suckers
they seem to be everywhere, well it's a live revue
random animal parts now playing nightly right here in
neurotica. . .
so long. . .
11 Indiscipline (08:01)
I do remember one thing.
It took hours and hours but..
by the time I was done with it,
I was so involved, I didn't know what to think.
I carried it around with me for days and days..
playing little games
like not looking at it for a whole day
and then.. looking at it.
to see if I still liked it.
I did.
I repeat myself when under stress.
I repeat myself when under stress.
I repeat myself when under stress.
I repeat myself when under stress.
I repeat..
The more I look at it,
the more I like it.
I do think it's good.
The fact is..
no matter how closely I study it,
no matter how I take it apart,
no matter how I break it down,
It remains consistant.
I wish you were here to see it.
I like it.
13 21st Century Schizoid Man (15:55)
Cat's foot iron claw
Neuro-surgeons scream for more
At paranoia's poison door
Twenty-First Century Schizoid Man.
Blood rack barbed wire
Politicians' funeral pyre
Innocents raped with napalm fire
Twenty-First Century Schizoid Man.
Death seed blind man's greed
Poets' starving children bleed
Nothing he's got he really needs
Twenty-First Century Schizoid Man.
15 Easy Money (09:34)
Your admirers on the street
Gotta hoot and stamp their feet
In the heat from your physique
As you twinkle by in moccasin sneakers
And I thought my heart would break
When you doubled up at the stake
With your fingers all a-shake
You could never tell a winner from a snake
but you always make money
Easy money
With your figure and your face
Strutting out at every race
Throw a glass around the place
Show the colour of your crimson suspenders
We would take the money home
Sit around the family throne
My old dog could chew his bone
For two weeks we could appease the Almighty
Easy money
Got no truck with the la-di-da
Keep my bread in an old fruit jar
Drive you out in a motor-car
Getting fat on your lucky star just making
Easy money.
21 Starless (14:55)
Sundown dazzling day
Gold through my eyes
But my eyes turned within
Only see
Starless and bible black
Ice blue silver sky
Fades into grey
To a grey hope that omens to be
Starless and bible black
Old friend charity
Cruel twisted smile
And the smile signals emptiness
For me
Starless and bible black
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