This was not a preshow meet and greet. I bought two Royalty Package tickets directly from the DGM label because it made sense to me, and it seemed like a bargain price for what you get. {Read the official DGM statement for deeper insight:
Royal Package
- Early access to the venue and merchandise.
- Seating in the front six rows.
- Insights into the world of King Crimson and DGM by David Singleton, producer and manager ("the ninth man")
- Personal insights and answers from one of the seven band members
- Programme signed by all the members.
- VIP Laminate
- Exclusive Tote Bag
- Previously unreleased King Crimson multiple CD set
Sure enough, I wasn't wrong about the $365 "bargain price" (as contrasted against some people's experience out there in the real world who paid upwards of $485 USD just to sit back in Section C). That's the difference, they are operating on a certain level perhaps analogous (in a post-modern sense) to one of the levels Dante wrote about the Inferno. All I have to say on that matter is welcome to it. I won't partake, as I choose to live my life on a higher echelon than that.
The first thing that happened when the thirty-five or forty of us Royalty Package customers were ushered to sit down in the first three rows of the middle section in front of the stage, out in the squalid heat of the day, was that Robert Fripp walked out from the shadows of the recessed amphitheater out into the bright glare of the afternoon and stood there before us in front of the mic stand. He gazed out at the small assembly of us Royalty Package customers and began to speak.
As you might expect he was charming and erudite and got right to the heart of the matter. He explained that he knew the timing was right for King Crimson to perform this tour last year, in 2020. And that when the pandemic bumped it forward a year, he was concerned that the timing might be off for this elaborate endeavor to be pulled off without a hitch. He was all too happy to report that it turns out there was no need for such concern after all, as the shows on this tour had proven to be what he considered among the best of their storied career. (Mild applause from the barracks.) He then proceeded to explain the logistics of pulling off a tour like this were so complex and challenging as to defy description, but suffice it to say with audiences itching to listen to live music and musicians most eager to play, he regarded these economically forestalled times as reason enough to gather together their considerably formidable enterprise and as we Americans would say it, "hit the road, Jack."
Fripp went on to elaborate how this Music Is Your Friend tour would inject twenty million dollars into the US economy, and later David Singleton confirmed that it was the Royalty Package which most prominently accounted for the majority of DGM's revenue. After Fripp had delivered his perfectly English speech which you must understand left those of us gathered there before him in the sweltering heat fully absorbed and speechless with admiration. I considered Tony Levin being from Boston and these gentlemen's decades long association with one another, both on a professional level and in their friendship over countless spectacular tours and performances, and reflected on how their uniting to embark upon this massive tour just after the first wave of the global pandemic felt somehow heroic. Fripp indicated facing the odds between infecting one another and standing back while the economy's stalled out, implying what better solution than to fall back on the old adage, the show must go on.
Although the band ended up delivering what we in the carefully assembled crowd had anticipated, the evening proved to be spectacular in even more vital and unexpected ways. For example the California Guitar Trio's opening set was worth the price of (Royalty Package) admission and served to foreshadow the dynamics of the Crimson beast to come. But I'm getting ahead of myself, because when David Singleton came out after Fripp retreated back into the shade and air conditioning of the amphitheater, we were treated to a gratifying and informative discussion with him, which really shed illumination into the underbelly of the progressive rock world.
My favorite part came after he exclaimed his relief at never having to work on another King Crimson box set again, only to realize they had recently stumbled across many tapes and recordings of Fripp's Exposure sessions, and that invariably a stunning box set of those remarkable sessions was going to have to be assembled as its own box set. He went on to explain that Fripp would play live over the loops of his formerly recorded playing, and that there has never been an officially released recording of this. (This made me realize my vinyl 2LP bootleg Air Structures by Fripp & Eno remains one of the few, if not the only recording showcasing this.) He then played three separate examples of Frippertronics from the soundboard, to the delight of the crowd and my own pleased astonishment. Suddenly the midsummer afternoon was filled with the beautiful sound of Fripp's guitar loops playing, with him soloing over it. I told David that it sounded to me as if it should be in a box set of No Pussyfooting, and that's when he informed us that for those early Fripp & Eno albums, it's Fripp performing 100% of the music, and that Eno had only provided the idea of using tape machines for the loops. Mind boggled, I remarked "leave it to Eno, the non-musician, whose only instrument is his Egg Head." The Vicar nodded in assent. Wow!
Then Jakko Jakszyk came out, and proved to be a very chillax individual who seemed right at home standing before us to answer our questions and fill us in on his vast scope of progressive rock experience. I have to state for the record that the last time I saw King Crimson happened to occur exactly twenty years before, to the very day, only it was in Colorado, at Red Rocks, when Tool closed for King Crimson on August 3, 2001. Adrian Belew was still fronting vocals for them, back then. What are the chances that I were to see them exactly two decades later, like clockwork? It's a testament to the fact that I've noted Fripp's impressive obsession with time. I raised my hand to ask Jakko a frivolous question, "has anyone ever told you that you look like Jimmy Page?" and he remarked that although no one ever had before, that just two days ago someone pulled him aside at one of these shows and asked him if Jimmy Page were his brother. I raised my eyebrow as an indication of surprise that my question had accidentally become somewhat relevant, and as the crowd chuckled I hoped that I had at least broken the ice to get the conversation started (only I must point out there was no ice on that fine day to break really in the first place). Everyone seemed in a comfortable place, after all we'd all chosen the obligation to be there, the only mild discomfort was the heat which could have been a lot worse, hovering as it was at around a mere 99 degrees Fahrenheit.
After the question and answer sessions were done, the small crowd disassembled to return their tote backs full of Kc schwag back to their cars and head over to the merch stand to see what other Crimson treats awaited to further ravage our wallets and pocket books. (For the record I spent another $90 right then and there, purchasing 1 size lg. T-shirt, the white one for $40, a $10 patch to go on my metal warrior jacket which will be crowned and compleated with it, and I bought the two Elements double-CD collections, covering a wide assortment of live and studio tracks from over the years.
When California Guitar Trio went on, there was a replacement guy standing in on Chapman stick for Hideo Moriya. I didn't catch his name but he was fantastic. Paul Richards on acoustic guitar looks to me to sort of resemble a cross between Jon Anderson and Alex Lifeson. It's like Yes and Rush personified on stage and he has the guitar playing chops to back it up. This was proven throughout their set, where the first several songs, which I was not familiar with, nonetheless kept me glued to the edge of my seat listening to their fascinating blends of textures and tones and intricate chord phrases exchanging between them with such skillful timing there were moments of transcendence when suddenly the chapman stick in the middle was like a tuning fork mirroring the melody back and forth between the other two guitarists. Their scope and range was broad and deep, as I sat sat there amazed at the wide range of sounds they were able to get from their acoustic instruments.
Nothing prepared the crowd for their encore, when Paul Richards began eliciting fed back mournful sounds from his guitar which morphed into a cover of Pink Floyd's Echoes that between the three of them was captured so perfectly as to leave the audience and I stunned throughout it's entire running time. During several phases of the song's legendary sonic structures, the crowd would applaud and respond appropriately. (I was convinced that if David Gilmour had been there, he'd have been impressed, which I think is saying something.) I have to say that as much as I had wished the Zappa Band could have opened for them, I realized while sitting captivated before the California Guitar Trio, that we were one lucky crowd to get to hear them play their set. At least that's how I felt while watching all three of them play. They passed musical phrases to each other, shadowing the outline of the Crimson beast to come, with it's three center staged drum sets leveling it up a few more notches.
There was no announcement as to when King Crimson were to start. It was around 7:35 or so after the California Trio left the stage, and I was concerned because I knew Clif and Dallas were running late. I figured it might not be until 8 that the Crimson beast would roar to life. It turns out I should've marked the time when they went on, but I was too focused on getting back to our seats in the front row from the concessions stand to watch as all seven of the guys took their places on stage.
The crowd cheered each individual member as they emerged into the light of day. Pat Mastelotto was among the first. (He's so cool I swear his role in the biopic could be played by Tom Waits.) My wife and I were seated in the very front row, right between Pat and Jeremy. This means technically we were in the center section a little towards stage right, which is to say, just a little to the left when facing the stage. Jeremy played some perfect keyboards during integral parts of the show, and returned to the drums with a zeal that held his own between the passing volleys from either side. We had a terrific direct view (over to the right) where Gavin Harrison sat at his drumkit, and Robert Fripp sat above and behind him on the back riser. We could see all seven members of the band, with Mel Collins standing behind a plexiglass shield to block the delivery of his wind instrumentation. We could just see his head and shoulders playing flutes, saxophones, and a variety of other similar instruments throughout the show. His flute playing and evocative contribution to the songs really linked up with Jakko's superb vocals, together capturing the spirit of the first four albums perfectly. That's what K20 Cr21's all about.
The one song I wanted to hear the most was Islands, and boy was I not disappointed as they launched into it towards the end of their first set. To not only fervently hope they would play it, and knowing they'd introduced it at some point in the tour, then having it realized before my elated ears is something that no words that I can write could even begin to convey the emotional investment of this song to me. To think I had the record back in high school, along with In the Wake of Poseidon and Lizard, and that it's the senior effort by which all bands must ultimately be judged in comparison to Zeppelin IV.
Islands was the height of last night's show for me, without a doubt capturing the original song exactly to my heart's expectations. The vivid lyrics which have haunted my life for nearly forty years splashed and echoed from Jakko's remarkable voice and visage across the stage and washed over us in perfect accompaniment by the instruments, the three drummers having already established from the beginning that what they're doing together up there, far from being a novelty act, represents a logical improvement of the initial drum dynamic we long for. In other words, they prove its better this way. That goes for virtually any song, new or old or yet to be written by anyone. I understand it was Fripp's idea, and well he nailed it, as the trio's demonstration most tacitly proved.
The three drummers sketched that out at the beginning of the set with I believe is being called Drumzilla—Point taken. Watching Pat and Jeremy and Gavin trade off drum licks was a real treat that anyone who was there will likely gush on and on about. I mean, damn. I wish all my drummer friends had been there. At least I got to see Clif and Dallas there. Live music was meant to be shared. That is how you set up a drum line as the foundation for music! Then the elder statesmen from the court of the Crimson King asserted the framework of their intricate guitar riffs and time signatures in unison as they've been doing for so long. Only these seven guys were in lockstep the whole way, it really was a sight to behold and an evening of beautifully thunderous overtures to listen to. Take Mel Collins for instance. His apartness from the rest of his bandmates may have taken on a clinical aspect, with him standing behind the plexiglass shield and seeming to not step out from his area at the end, but his singular contribution to the show was absolutely essential. Like the silver fluted mast of a sail ship, he not only set the shades and color of the tone, but helped guide them as he propelled them forward over the rocky reefs of some beautiful terrain.
The last time I saw them at Red Rocks on that not forgotten August day two decades ago they stepped out from behind the curtain with timed precision at exactly seven o'clock, striking thunderous power chords in practiced unison the moment they took the stage. I know what Fripp means when he's thinking of 2020 along parallel lines to my view of it as the year of perfect vision. Needless to say, timing is the key indeed in every way, and I'm happy that the incredible oiled machine that put this beast of a tour together has just given the US an injection of twenty million dollars into our economy. And that bit about us really needing music, well look no further than the past few weeks. I've seen both Orville Peck and now King Crimson at the same venue in Sandy, and if that's a portent for what's to come well we best wear our seatbelts if you're coming with me. It's on!
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