King Crimson: Discipline

Discipline

Best song: Indiscipline

Worst song: I like them all, but Frame By Frame?

Overall grade: 6

Ah, King Crimson. I’m going to miss reviewing them. A band so inconsistent that they can’t even be consistent in their inconsistency… this album is almost as good as the last one! Of course, it’s allowed, because this came after a seven-year hiatus during which the band was broken up “for good” and during which Robert Fripp was doing solo stuff (which incidentally, is also pretty good) and, unsurprisingly, there’s been another lineup change. Tony Levin has replaced John Wetton on bass and the wonderful Adrian Belew has joined us to play guitar and sing (aren’t we lucky?!)

Seriously, two thirds of the ‘Red’ trio might still be around, but 80s King Crimson is a mile away from that album. There’s still a focus on instrumental work and experimenting, but it’s very much of its time, taking influence from a bunch of other bands who were relatively new at the time, most notably the Talking Heads but also

Songs. There are seven. (I’m not great with sentences today, it seems.) The first one is called ‘Elephant Talk’, and I love it, which is quite strange, because I find Belew’s vocal performance really disturbing – he sounds like he’s out of his mind. The lyrics are great, and it’s not often you can say that about this band. Some electronic backbeats keep you on your toes and it’s all topped off with a guitar sound that’s never been recreated – it’s uncategorisable.

‘Frame By Frame’ is when Levin comes to the fore with some really interesting basswork, but I can’t always hear it so well because Belew is mixed so high. It’s stylistically pretty similar to the opener but a bit more soundscapey and a bit less mind-boggling. ‘Matte Kudasai’ is a bit more slow-tempoed than the two preceding it. It’s got some great sound effects, like the guitars that sound like angry bird cries that pop up occasionally, and it’s surprisingly melodic and emotional, filling the place of the ballad that Crimson like to throw in occasionally to shake things up. A better version can be found in amongst the bonus tracks, that has an interesting guitar part from Fripp worked into it.

Then comes ‘Indiscipline’, and it’s just flat-out crazy, it’s… put it this way, you used to be able to look up the Wikipedia page for ‘Indiscipline’, and there were at least twenty different genres listed for the song, including psychedelic metal, which I’d never even heard of. And all twenty of those genres seemed to fit the song. It’s such a freak-out, with amazingly chaotic and out-of-control instrumental sections interspersed with robotic vocal parts that are almost too… well, disciplined. ‘I repeat myself when under stress’, Belew intones, several times in a row, and it’s pure genius. If you’ve got five minutes to spare and you’re only going to listen to one song from this album, this is definitely the one.

Course, nothing on side two could come close to that. They try, though. Like ‘Thela Hun Ginjeet’ – this is a polyrhythmic song, meaning it is played in two different time signatures simultaneously. (One of my friends told me I didn’t use enough technical terms in my reviews, so that one’s for her.) It’s such a cool effect. However, this is probably the furthest removed from Crimson in their previous incarnations, focusing mostly on the beat and the new short, clipped style. (Is this prog-techno?) In other news, this is the last vocal track on the album, which is a bit of a disappointment. Belew’s my second favourite Crimson vocalist after Lake, and for this material specifically, he probably is the best guy for the job.

In contrast, ‘The Sheltering Sky’, the first of two instrumentals that close the album, is closest to old Crimson – not even 1974-era, but going right back to their roots with ‘In the Court’. It’s probably a bit more easy-listening than anything else here, although it does have just as much substance if you pay attention – some real virtuoso playing and a few world music influences here and there. And the title track lives up to its name by displaying how well and how effortlessly the new band members have fit together, and is a great example of them playing off each other really well.

Overall, the best word I can find to describe this album is paranoid. All these crazy rhythms, they don’t want to stay still for too long, even the notes don’t, so they’re always jumping around and forever looking over their shoulders to check nothing’s coming to get them. There’s so much life in this record – like one day it’s going to jump out of your CD player and become something more than a flat disc.

Whether intentional or not, this was the perfect album for the band to make at the time – it was progressive and just plain weird enough to keep their long-time fans excited and yet relevant and cutting-edge enough to bring them to a whole new audience. On their next two albums, they tried to achieve this balance again, but found themselves focusing more on current trends than their own legacy, and this album remains as the only surviving studio document of the fusion of the two styles.

 (I should have done The Who today but I’m doing this instead, in celebration of the fact that KING CRIMSON ARE REFORMING! I could not be more excited about this and I’m just really hoping I get the chance to see them. The Who tomorrow.)