Along with wanting to give this specific record a week's worth of listens, King Crimson has also given me an opportunity to start to explore the genre of progressive rock. Known for its complex song structures, long solos, diverse instrumentation, and fantastical lyrics, prog rock is a genre that I, for whatever reason, have never really listened to (probably because for a very long time I've dwelled firmly in the indie-music-culture camp where I always got the distinct impression that the vast majority of progressive rock was extremely lame). King Crimson's 1969 debut is considered to be a jumping off point when prog rock really got started and so it seemed like a perfectly good place for me to begin.
The London band as they appear on this record are Robert Fripp on guitar, Michael Giles on percussion, Greg Lake holding down bass and vocals, Ian McDonald playing everything from saxophone to flute to mellotron, and Peter Sinfield penning the lyrics. King Crimson went through multiple line-up changes following this record, and basically every other record they would release, with Robert Fripp being the only constant member throughout their recording history. As I listened and as the days passed I found myself struggling to pin down just how I felt about the record as a whole. At 41 minutes and just 5 tracks, 'In the Court...' has a lot of music to process and the parts that I like I really enjoy, but hiccups along the way make other sections hard for me to digest and get past. So in tribute to King Crimson's grand nature, we are going to break it down into multiple parts. Let the saga begin!
Being Part One: The Good
The album gets off to a roaring start with 21st Century Schizoid Man. With heavy distortion on both guitar and Greg Lake's vocals, an absolutely wailing saxophone, and effectively disjointed/schizo lyrical images, King Crimson really kick things off with a barn-burner of a song (later sampled quite heavily in Kanye West's 2010 song Power). The song continues into an instrumental section sub-titled Mirrors which puts front and center the band's technical prowess on their instruments as they play start-stop bursts and melody runs in complete unison with each other. Their playing swells into a cacophony of crashes, squawks, and strums until it all comes tumbling down at the end of the song; very effectively evoking the track's "schizoid man". The powerful musical muscle displayed on 21st Century... is followed by the beautiful, soft, and flute heavy ballad I Talk to the Wind which provides the perfect juxtaposition to the opening track. With almost 60s-hippie lyrics and a gorgeous flute solo, I Talk to the Wind is one of the few relatively straight-forward songs on the record and also the shortest, clocking in at a respectable 6 minutes.
The peace and tranquility provided by the song is short lived as the album quickly moves into its third (and my favorite) track, Epitaph. Lyrically the doom-and-gloom-iest of all the songs on the record, Epitaph is a wonderfully sad, funeral march of a song. Dystopian lyrics of despair and confusion are backed with dirge-like instrumentation that expertly captures these themes while maintaing a monumental elegance. As the song reaches its musical climax Lake sings repeatedly, "Yes, I fear tomorrow I'll be crying," and it is a strong emotional climax for the record as well; serving as a prime example of the benefits that expanded instrumentation and complex, well-plotted song structures can bring. It's a wonderful, intricate song and a perfect way to end the first side of an already impressive record.
Being Part Two: The Bad
Moonchild. Oh, Moonchild. You begin side two innocently enough with your soft and playful melody with beautiful instrumentation. But then you descend into nearly 7 minutes of wandering and aimless free improvisation. Oh dearest, Moonchild, what are we going to do with you?
Normally instrumental breaks in songs are no problem for me but the last two-thirds of Moonchild are a struggle for me to enjoy musically. The free improvisation gets a little too "free" with seemingly random cymbal hits and keyboard plonks. It just doesn't make much musical sense to me and, perhaps worst of all, it becomes a tad boring and tedious; which is a shame because the vocal melody in the first two minutes of Moonchild is one of my favorite on the record. About halfway through the week I learned that I was listening to the 40th anniversary remaster of the record which has 3 minutes of this free improv session cut out (by band-leader Robert Fripp no less) from its original run time of 12 minutes and 13 seconds. For me, the 9 nine minute Moonchild is plenty and this second half of the song really damages what is otherwise an extremely engaging and epically enjoyable album.
Being Part Three: Epilogue
'In the Court of the Crimson King' deserves its place in music history as one of the greatest progressive rock records of all time. It is not without its faults and warts but the atmosphere and musical landscapes it does create more than make up for any detractions. Worthy of a listen and worthy of your opinion, King Crimson kicked off a movement in rock; leading the charge in showing that rock can be complex, intricate, and multi-instrumental while still maintaing a strong emotional connection. On this record they demonstrate that instruments that may have been considered to be firmly outside of the realm of rock, like the flute or clarinet, can be incorporated into its structure to provide fascinating results. And even if their ambition gets away from them at times on the record (lookin' at you, Moonchild), King Crimson are still very much a force to be reckoned with.
The Breakdown:
Stand-Outs: 21st Century Schizoid Man, Epitaph, The Court of the Crimson King
Let-Downs: Moonchild
Rating: 8.5/10
Up Next: We've got another reader request for this week! A reggae classic (a genre which I never tire of exploring): Augustus Pablo's 'King Tubbys Meets Rockers Uptown'. I'm very, very excited for this one! Some bass-heavy, spaced-out dub music! Let's all get excited!
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