Robert Fripp
A Blessing of Tears: 1995 Soundscapes, Volume 2: Live in California

Browsing through the discographies of artists on Wikipedia, especially in the Italian version, one notices the obscurity surrounding some of the best works by musicians otherwise known only because they are associated with bands loved by the general public. I'm talking about Robert Fripp, already the leader/puppeteer of King Crimson, and founder with Brian Eno of the well-known experimental duo producing overlaid guitar loop recordings: the famous "Frippertronics" technology.

Continuing with these old works, in the nineties, Fripp decided to produce new music based on complicated technological schemes where synth guitar sounds are recorded in digital audio to produce an (often unsettling) effect of harmonies that break apart and reassemble. No other instruments.

In Volume 2 of these so-called "Soundscapes," Robert Fripp dedicates a series of compositions to his recently deceased mother, titled "Blessing of Tears" (1995).

Despite the cold, technological, measured, and obsessive approach to music, what emerges is a small miracle of free emotion. The eight tracks, the result of an American live recording, are impressive. The intertwining of "Cathedral of Tears" begins slow, ethereal, incredibly distant, rising high into the sky, bright. The result is an explosion of cries, increasingly intense weeping voices, demanding to be heard, in the tone of regret and remembrance. The whole album is structured similarly: there are long, evanescent notes like indigo hues in the morning sky (precisely "first light" that recalls the Eno/Fripp sounds of "Evening Star") and the central part of the tracks is a rain of interwoven harmonies like the branches of a willow. The visual perspective of the work is evident: the sounds evoke colors, images, vivid impressions of pain dictated by the loss of a person who is now part of this internal, private, deep world. At the end of each track, the listener will feel the sensation of being in a church where absolute and meaningful silence reigns.

In "Blessing of Tears," Robert Fripp shows remarkable sensitivity, a clear, emotional message that is also aesthetically consonant from the listener's perspective (something found in very few romantic tracks of his production).

I recommend purchasing the "Soundscapes" but especially finding this work and sampling it little by little: a rare moment of union between technology, inspiration, harmony, and the heartfelt memory of those who are no longer here.