King Crimson
Lizard

If there ever was or had been an “author's policy” in the musical world (except for classical composers), King Crimson would have been part of it: even in those albums considered lesser, the philosophy, style, and poetics of the group (or rather, of Fripp) are consistently reflected. “Lizard” can be called ‘anomalous’. It can be called 'lesser', with all the prejudicial implications of the term. But all this undermines its importance within the group's creative journey, which, despite being a journey of great continuity, is never repetitive.
That Lizard is considered a lesser moment, or presumed as such, can already be seen from its chart position (26), far from the fourth place of “In the Wake”, but there are other slightly penalizing factors to consider: the group no longer has Lake's voice, levels that will only be reached by Wetton, and no longer has Giles & Giles: with Gordon Haskell (bassist/singer, already appeared on the previous record) who left two months later, and a new drummer.
Besides the leader, Sinfield remains, whose lyrics are maintained on the line already exploited but not yet exhausted of the dreamlike-epic-fablistic, which allows him evident references to current events (and some winks at hippy culture). Emblematic in this sense are the suite that gives the album its title and 'Cirkus', a track in which mellotron piano, guitar, winds, and voice are equally protagonists. The structure is contrapuntal, starting from the piano introduction and the almost omnipresent Frippian guitar that behind the histrionism hides a customary almost geometric rigor; the instruments (voice included) often exchange melodies, and the result is an almost Babel-like choral atmosphere, which musically transposes “the great circus that is life”, according to Fripp's intentions, and finds breathing only in the central part of sax and mellotron. The jazz-rock influence is evident throughout the album, but especially in "Indoor games" (where we find on one side sporadic echoes of “Cat food”, on the other the embryo of “Ladies of the road”), and in “Happy family”, with its syncopated rhythm: two fun and playful pieces (see the final laugh of Indoor..), enjoyable. The minimalist “Lady of the dancing water” is the perfect junction point between “Cadence and Cascade” and “Island” (in fact, removing the flute the first keyboard chord sequence is almost the same as that of “Island”), to which the text, romantic and with continuous references to natural elements, preludes. The union of the horn next to piano, flute, and guitar contributes to the warm atmosphere of this well-conceived little song. The suite “Lizard” is a synthesis of the entire record, an authentic crucible where all the different moments of the constantly evolving Frippian/Crimsonian inspiration merge. Transitions between the various “movements” (four, just like a symphony) are very clean and ingenious: just think of how the Bolero 'jazzically' insinuates itself within the lyrical oboe solo, and how the melody of the solo (which in turn reprises that of the “Prince Rupert” verse) is developed and rendered almost unrecognizable within the Bolero itself. A note deserves the final minute of “Lizard” (“Big Top”), a circus fanfare paired with a mellotron theme that provokes dissonances and renders the conclusion unsettling and above all unresolved (it is distorted as it fades away), also reconnecting to the album's concept plot. This finale is the conception of a conclusion as progressively, enigmatically advancing toward the indistinct, probably at the end of life (as “Cirkus” speaks of birth, according to Sinfield's notes).

Lyrical and inventive, “Lizard” is undoubtedly a minor album in terms of historical importance, it does not have the shocking impact of “In the Court” nor does it represent a stylistic-conceptual evolution like “Larks Tongues in Aspic”, yet it cannot be dismissed among the “little representative” works: it has unity, cohesion, personality, and some memorable moments. The album is far from the cliché that views it as incomplete or marginal (a judgment from those who wallow in the worship of Masterpieces and thus fossilize their opinions) and should be placed within the continuous process of inspiration/experimentation by Fripp and company who, while not abandoning the conceptual and musical bases of previous works, create an inspired and non-repetitive album. Furthermore, Fripp himself enlightens us on what the Crimson style is (7/11/1970): “I suppose Crimson is a way of life”.