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OLD CULT GROUPS
NEVEBDIE
(THEY JUST BECOME MORE POPULAR)
- tour-that it is a real effort and not a cheap .
King Crimson hits the road
''w here's Fripp? Where the hell
is Fripp?"
Five minutes into King Crim-
son's opening-night late show at New
York's Savoy, a bug-eyed post-hippie rock
'n' roll yahoo (distinguishing marks:
tousled, b)ack shoulder-length curls ,
graying Genesis T-shirt, blue jeans that
could probably walk by themselves) bursts
through the club's door, races through the
foyer without giving the bar a second's
thought, and stops on a dime at the back ef
the hall. A few inches shy of six feet tall, he
cranes his neck every which way to see the
stage beyond the heads and shoulders of
several hundred other Crimson freaks who
got there before him .
"Where's Fripp?" he howls, unable to
spot the guest of honor. His friend, stand-
ing next to him and a good head and a half
taller, explains calmly that Robert Fripp is
playing his guitar seated on a stool at stage
right, just below his sight line. "Holy shit!
He's sitting down," the yahoo repeats
(obviously unaware that Fripp has never
performed in any other position); awe and
worship resonate in his cracking voice just
as it does in the hoots and hollers of "Crim-
son!," "Bruford!" and "Fuckin' A-a-y!"
echoing throughout the packed house. To
the progressive/art-rock cultists, battered
by the scornful winds of punk-those who
witnessed the hard-fought artistic victories
won by Crimson, Genesis et al. in the early
and mid-'70s, since coopted by pop hacks
like REO Speedw.agon and Styx-King
Crimson lives again. Long live the King.
Ii'
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· name King Crimson. [The band was orig-
But the return of King Crimson is not just
a celebratory experience. As with all things
Crimson and Fripp, there are lessons to be
learned, preconceptions to reconsider. The
odds are that the majority of fans at the
Savoy are of the original (pre-punk) Trouser
Press variety: passionate Anglophiles who
wear their Crimson gear-buttons, vintage
T-shirts, even one denim jacket handsomely
painted with the grinning red sun from the
in~iq_e cover of I~ the Court of the Crimson
King-like badges of honor. They pay loud,
genuine respect to the physical expertise and
imagination of drummer Bill Bruford,
whose previous exploits with Yes and the
old Crimson already comprise a sizable
chapter of art-rock history . They probably
-know bassist Tony Levin from his work
with Peter Gabriel and on Fripp's own
. Exposure. They may even be passably con-
versant with founder Fripp's forays into
. ambient music and art-punk via Disco-
tronics and the short-lived League of
Gentlemen.
. All, however, share the conviction that
that this is no idle cash-in reunion. These pay-
ing customers always admired King Crimson
not only for what it played but what it stood
for. Thus guitarist Adrian Belew (whose
credentials with Frank Zappa, David Bowie
and the expanded Talking Heads probably
don't carry much weight with this crowd)
gets the· same enthusiastic reception for a
string-bending wipeout as Fripp does for a
stirring psycho-solo. The audience hears the
same commitment in material from the
recent Discipline album and new, as-yet un-
recorded pieces that they recognize in live
reprises of "Red" and "Larks' Tongues in
Aspic, Part Two." • ·
For all the stick they 'get from a sniggering
press which considers them diehard nostal-
gic sheep, this audience is built on trust.
They are willing to trust what they may not ·
entirely understand-either in Fripp's music
or his copious philosophies that .accompany
it. And they trust King Crimson because it
has never let them down.
T
he day after the Savoy show, Bill
Bruford, 32, tries to explain that trust.
"What I've noticed from the audi-
ence is that they're perfectly happy to accept
us and our music," he says in that cheery
British manner which contrasts so starkly
with Fripp's dry academic wit. "Obviously
we brought back those old fans by using the
inally dubbed Discipline, hence the LP
title.] And it will take time, I think, for the·
ideas to work through. But I don't think th_e
old fans I met were disappointed. They
seemed to lil<e it. ·
"What they are responding to is an effort
by us; they know this is not a reunion as
such . Those are the two main points of this
reunion . And that is a good place to start."
Fripp, as usual, has a few words on the
subject. "There is a new possibility for a
positive relationship between performer and
artist that hasn't been for about 12 years.
We're finding a lot of people that don't bear
the scars of the excesses of the '70s, that
are young eriough [or just willing enough?]
to start over. Our very best reactions are
coming from those people who have _n o idea
who King Crimson was or is."
The ones who do have an idea aren't just
respondin& automatically. "I thought when
we played the States," Bruford continues,
"there would be a lot of shouting for 'Schiz-
oid Man' and all that. There hasn't been.
I've heard a lot of cries of 'Bruford' and
'F~ippertronics'-you·know that crude
_a nimal instinct an audience has-but
nothing like a 'Schizoid Man.' I'm pleased
about that. I think people are underestimat-
ing our audience. They are not sheep."
They do possess remarkable intuitive abil-
ities. In the Times Square subway station
after the Savoy show, a group of hardcore
Crimson fans dissect the set; as their train
pulls up they agree it was an unqualified ·
success . "You know," one of them
announces as he steps into the subway car, .
"Fripp is back where he belongs."
Fripp could not agree with him rnore .
,,R obert has said repeatedly this is
his dream band," says Adrian
Belew, lead-off batter in a full
day of Crimson conversations at Island Rec-
ords' New York office. "He's been dream-
ing about it for four or five years."
Belew has been dreaming about it for a
lot longer than that. An affable American
with an Eno-esque hairline and chipper
chipmunk face, Belew is a King Crimson
freak of long standing. "To suddenly be
part of it," he raves, "was like joining the
TROUSER PRESS/March 1982 23
 Beatles or something."
His recruitment into the band was sudden
enough. He and Fripp met at a Steve Reich
concert in New York, where Belew was
cutting Lodger tracks with David Bowie. ·
They hit it off, and, Belew's Ga-Ga band
opened five New York shows for the League
of Gentlemen. Then when Belew passed
thr.ough London with Talking Heads early
last year, Fripp popped the question. Bru-
ford says he and Fripp had been together as
a "band" for two days when Belew entered
the picture.
Fripp claims Belew had reservations
about joining the band. Belew descdbes the
situation ~s simply a crisis of confidence.
"When I came into this band, I was insecure
for the first time in my 21 years of playing
music. I thought everything I was doing was
a load of crap. I couldn't write songs and I
began to feel maybe I wasn' t a singer. I
honestly, felt I didn't have an artistic contri-
bution to make, and I knew this was going
to be a heavy responsibilit y-to be singer,
lyricist, and share guitar responsibilities
with Robert."
Fripp and Bruford's encourageme nt only
complicated matters since Belew held both
in considerable awe. The turning point
came during rehearsals, by which time the
group included Tony Levin, who sacrificed
lucrative session work to join. Belew had
been rehearsing with a Roland guitar like
Fripp's, trying to adapt his style of.play-
ing-a rubbery, feedback-heavy sound
compared to Fripp's liquid distortion and
staccato peal-outs-to an unfamiliar .
instrument; he was grappling with lyric-
writing as well. By the third week Belew was
a nervous wreck.
"Then I realized, 'Hey, i 'm not playing
my guitar. I'm just basically sounding like
Robert. Where's my voice in this?' So I
.picked up my Stratocaster, restrung it, and
everything changed.
"The next niove was vocally. When I
started making my sounds and doing my
thing, everybody kept saying, 'Yeah,
Adrian, you're finally into the band.' I only
came into my own in the fourth week, just
before the live concerts started." ·
it comes as no surprise that Belew-a
loose, friendly guy-welcom ed the name
change from Discipline to King Crimson.
He draws a parallel between Fripp and
previous employer Frank Zappa, both disci-
plinarians of slightly different mettle. ·
"Frank spells everything out for you;
Robert is only giving a shape and an outline,
and everyone is free to make their own
parts. But the kind of approach you have to
use to perform the material is the same."
· Compare, for example, the tracks "Disci-
pline" and "Indiscipline" on the new
album. The former started out as a very
Frippian guitar figure in 15/ 8 overlaying a
. kinetic 17/8 Bruford time signature. All
Belew did was map out his part with Robert
and get it down pat.
_" 'Indiscipline' started out as a vehicle for
some pretty erratic drumming. Originally it
was almost a throwaway, a drum solo with a
riff hung on it. Eventually I came up with a
24 TROUSER PRESS/March 1982
little melody, Robert came up with a line for
himself, and at that point we thought no,
ies stil! not enough.
"I knew what it needed was a vocal, but I
couldn't think of anything to sing. So I
"I don't feel .I have to ex-
plain what the band is.
It's painfl:JIIY obvious
to me." -Rob ert Fripp
thought of doing these talk sections
throughout the song. We did that the very
last day of recording. I took a letter my wife
had written me about a painting she had
done. I just took all these lines out of con-
text without specifically naming what the
subject was, then added a few lines of my
own. It's a very undisciplined song.'' (Belew
has psyched out Crimson freaks who may
have already memorized those lines by add-
ing to and subtracting from them during
performance. )
Another example of Belew's spontaneity
is his impassioned relating on "Thela Hun
Ginjeet" (an anagram for "Heat in the
.Jungle," the song's working title) of two
close encounters-f irst with an angry mob
of blacks, then a couple of oppressive bob-
bies-outside the London studio where the
• band, was recording. He ran in immediately
after, "so shook up and excited," and told
his story to eyeryone in the studio. "Then
Robert sneakily turns on the tape recorder
and asks me to repeat the story for several
other people. And that's what you hear on
the record."
Asked if he subscribes to any of Fripp's
Gurdjieffian small-mobile-intelligent
philosoph}es, Belew (whose own solo album
has just come out on Island) admits that
heavy statement is not his style. "I like
to leave things open, make a little fun out of_
it. I didn' t know if that would be accepted
here. Fun didn't seem like the right thing for
King Crimson:" · rock in general (and art-tock in particular)
T
he Warner Bros. party line is that
Robert Fripp is not doing any formal
interviews this four.The 35-year-old
guitarist had already undergone shock inter-
view therapy a few weeks prior to Disci-
pline's release. In addition, his recent tell-all
diary in Musician Player and Listener leaves
little to the imagination, explaining every-
thing you wanted to know about the new
Crimson but may have been afraid to ask.
As for old. Crimson stories, refer to the
three-part Frippiad published in early issues
of Trouser Press.
Fripp does consent, however,.to a brief
chat to clear up a few previously unex-
plained points-like the real nature of the .
"experience" (as he put it in Musician) by
which he came to recognize Discipline as
King Crimson.
"I can expect it if people want to be
cynical and say Fripp's a charlatan. But when
we began rehearsing just as a three-piece
. [before Levin joined] I was simply aware of
this quality of energy which was the iconic
a~pect of King Crimson available to this
· band if we wished to plug into it.
"It's a subtle experience but it's entirely
real all the same. I don't feel I have to
apologize or explain what the band is. For
me, it's entirely real. My sense is that this
band is King Crimson . To me, it's painfully
obvious, and anyone who comes along to
see it knows. You can 't form King Crimson;
you can't reform King Crimson; you can't
form a band and call it King Crimson. For
that band, it is not possible. This is a special
band because it's so ordinary."
"Ordinary" is not the word most people
would use to describe original lyricist Peter
Sinfield's,dazzling but ultimately hammy .
imagery artd the rich, high-decibel classicism
of In the Court of the Crimson King, In the
Wake of Poseidon, and Lizard; the )lloody
baroque drift of the hauntingly beautiful
Islands; the primal shriek and heavy-metal-
lic improvisatio~ of the great Fripp/ Bru-
ford/ David Cross/ John Wetton quartet on
Larks' Tongues in Aspic, Starless and Bible
Black and live U .S.A.; or Red's last evoca-
tive gasp. No, Crimson is no ordinary word.
But as one of the original art-rockers
couldn't King Crimson be held partially re-
sponsible for the subsequent excesses of
Fripp has railed against in recent years?
His reply is a flat-out rto . "The movement
of which Crimson was a founding member
-some will say the founding member-
went off course. Crimson was partly to
blame because we continued to be a part of
it, but when the time came to stop we were
the only band to stop. That proves one
point about the band's credentials."
And what does Fripp consider the essen-
tial difference between the new and old
Crimsons-or between this band and the
short-term projects (League of Gentlemen,
for example) of his recently-completed
Drive to 1981?
 "This," he declares, "is the very first
band I've formed where I've said I wish to
determine the parameters of the band's
action. Not to be a dictator, but more like a
guy saying, 'This is the sports field: now go
and play sports and I'll play sports with
you.' It's·initiating a situation so you can
concentrate energy.
"There have been reservations. Adrian's
reservations about getting involved with this
band is an entirely accurate observation. I
had reservations about getting involved with
. this band. It's not a band to take lightly. It's
a commitment."
At this point Bill Bruford enters the
room, ready to join the fray. Fripp and Bru-
ford have had highly publicized differences ·
in the past, and Fripp's diary mentions fric-
tion early on in Discipline. What were Bru-
ford's reservations?
Fripp suddenly jumps up out of his chair.
"It is time I must leave," he announces .
"Robert, there's no need to leave," Bruford
insists, assuming the question has caused
some discomfort. "No," Fripp says,
flashing one of his enigmatic smiles, "it is
not that I want to leave, but that I must. I
think I'll go out for some chocolate cake."
And that was that.
'' I was the jilted lover before, the
lover of King Crims~:m," Bruford
continues; his boyish, animated
·cricket pitch but Bruford throws it. Or, as
face reveals his enthusiasm for the subject.
Bruford joined King Crimson in late 1972,
leaving a lucrative association with Yes to
follow Fripp's errant path. "There are a
number of group~, a fewish number," he
said at the time, "but a number of groups
that are on the precipke in a way, beyond
which there is a blackness, a kind of void,
and they're peering into it hoping that it
may go this way, but knowing that it may
not go this way at all, it may be completely
wrong. I feel that King Crimson is now one
of those groups."
Crimson spent the next two years peering
into that void; when Fripp ordered a retreat
in 1974, Bruford was crushed . "I was just
getting emotfonally involved-although
intellectually I know I shouldn't have- and
when Robert broke up the band, I was the
jilted lover. I wanted to keep it together.
When Robert asked me to do this, my only
suspicion was that I didn't want to be jilted
again."
Having led his own band for the last three
years, Bruford actually welcomes the
opportunity to butt heads with Fripp. ("I
probably give as good as I get, " he admits.)
During Discipline's first days, though, Bru-
ford says he and the other band members
dealt gingerly with Fripp, fearing the wrong
word or note might cause him to abandon
the project.
"He was returning to the battlefield and I
don't think anyone wanted to scare him off.
Some people still ask me why the first group
stopped and I still don 't know. I've got my
suspicions, but I'm no great psychoanalyst."
For all their little spats, Bruford and
Fripp go together like yin and yang. To use
his sports-field metaphor, Fripp describes a
Bruford explains it:
"It starts out as a stream of negatives first
off, which cracks many a lesser man. 'Don't
do this, don't do that, and I suggest you
don't do this. By the way, I also recommend
you don't do that.' You 're in a prison and,
you've got to find your way out of things. I
quite like that. I must be a masochist or
Levin and Bruford look on as Fripp berates Belt•w for wearing unpressed wig to concert.
something, but I don't feel right unless I'm
imprisoned and told to find a way around
it. That's the challenge." In other words,
discipline (according to the inscription on
the back album cover) "is never an end in
itself, only a means to an end."
What concerns Bruford among all this
towering babble about first-division bands,
crises of confidence, the quality of Crimson
energy, etc., etc. is that King Crimson make
music first, talk second. For someone with
the gift of gab , Fripp can be a man of few
words. Bruford originally joined Crimson
when Fripp came to his house for dinner
one night, carting his guitar and amplifier
along with him . After dinner Fripp sug-
gested they play together for a bit. That was
the audition. ·
Ditto the new band. Fripp stopped by
Bruford's house "and did the usual thing:
asked me, '\\'.hat would you do if I did
this?' I'd say I'd do something and he'd say,
'Wrong, try something else.' .
"·We didn't talk about it all that much,
although you wouldn't kriow it from all this
talk. When musicians get together they tend
to play their instruments more than they talk.
"You see, I enjoy playing," Bruford con-
tinues. "It is fun. I just hope we look at the
cheerful, optimistic side of this and don't
take ourselves too seriously- just play some
music and don't get too carried away with
discussion. I don 't want people to feel they
need a Ph.D. in behavioral sciences to
understand King Crimson. It's not like
that."
Bruford smiles, almost bashfully. "It's
just a pop group with some good ideas. The ·
more we remember that, the more everyone
will enjoy it."
TROUSER PRESS/March 1982 25