As if intended to make the ongoing saga of King Crimson more confusing, here's a little background on what these 21st Century musos are up to. The 1995 incarnation of the band introduced the "double trio" lineup: two guitars, two drummers, two stick/bassists--in short, two power trios combined. Since then, that lineup has mutated into a variety of trios and quartets going as ProjeKct One, ProjeKct Two, Three, and Four. ProjecKt X, featuring Crimson's only constant, guitarist Robert Fripp, along with long-time foil, guitarist Adrian Belew, joined by stick player Trey Gunn and drummer Pat Mastelotto, is also the new Crimson lineup. Confused? Good. That seems to be just the initial reaction Fripp and company are looking for.
The mighty granddaddy (and all-time best) of all progressive rock bands, King Crimson's 1969 debut caught everyone even remotely paying attention off guard. It opened with the epic "21st Century Schizoid Man," complete with unreal tempo and time changes and an impossibly distorted lead vocal, both unheard of elements on a rock record of the time, both commonplace today. Now, three decades later, the umpteenth incarnation of Crimson opens up with an octave-dropped harmonized vocal, singing "ProzaKc Blues," its first pronouncement of the actual 21st Century. Far less heavy, dark, ominous--and, well, terrifying--than "Schizoid Man," "ProzaKc" is abstract blues, and while full of the sharply angled riffs that Crimson tosses about like party favors, it is positively soothing compared to the 30-year-old model. Whereas the early Crimson often opened with an opus of total annihilation, now they can afford to be more subtle, but don't worry, prog maniacs, they haven't sold out, they're just more cunning. Indeed, after being sucked into their vortex of polytonality and asymmetric meters, this new Crimson takes you on a ride that builds in both intensity and unpredictability.
The largely instrumental collection isn't for everyone, but that's true by design--it is, after all, a King Crimson album. And, whereas an esteemed rock crit bonebrain such as yours truly could pontificate with ease on the average post-metal hip-hop hybrid infused with wigger lyrics--contextualizing, dissecting, and ultimately berating the disposable sonics--with ConstruKction, I'll still be coming to grips with sections of it long after this review has been published. This isn't easy music, it's far from all aggro or uni-dimensional in terms of mood and sentiment; you get new things out of it with each listen. I played it for a friend who remarked, "This is what too much time and talent sound like."
Arguable, sure. But for those who want to peek over into the beyond not only to see it but to hear it, Crimson has been there, on and off, for the adventurous, for 31 years. The pinnacle of absolute Crimson-ness is reached with the imposing "Lark's Tongue In Aspic, Part Four." Part One goes all the way back to the album of the same name from '73, and the title in its ongoing incarnations has always indicated a wild ride of stubborn time changes, imposing tri-tones, and dizzying improv. Here, it's divided into four sections, all cue-able on your CD player. Nifty!
It would be nice to think that Crimson is picking up a new generation of curious listeners every 10 years or so, and maybe it actually did with its (slightly) more commercial fare of the '80s. At the mid-'90s show I attended, it was mostly a lot of old guys like me. Aw, well…maybe a double bill with Mr. Bungle would do the trick.
All recordings courtesy of Virgin Records. All songs written by A. Belew, R. Fripp, T. Gunn, P. Mastelotto; courtesy of BMG Music Publishing, LTD (PRS)/Poppy Due Music/Robert Stevens Music.
