There was an air of the unreal about my being at a King Crimson concert at all. Everything about the show was big … it was a big venue, it had big publicity, and it had very big ticket prices (starting at $73 – hard to call them the ‘cheap seats’!) … I’d asked the CKUT music coordinator to try to get me on the guest list almost as a joke, and she’d confessed it seemed highly unlikely. In fact the request had been turned down, but then the publicist had called back and offered a pass after all! Faith for the faithless.
My own relationship with King Crimson had been via the late 70s, stripped-down ‘new wave’ Robert Fripp, when he’d shaved off his hippie locks and shed the flares and the fringed jackets, and reinvented himself as a solo performer. He’d disbanded King Crimson in 1974. As he wrote in the liner notes of his 1980 solo LP God Save The Queen / Under Heavy Manners, “on a professional level this was largely a result of the decreasing possibility for any real contact between audience and performers. This seemed to me to be caused by three main factors: firstly, the escalation in the size of rock events; secondly, the general acceptance of rock music as spectator sport; thirdly, the vampiric relationship between audience and performer.” Continue reading