After disbanding King Crimson in 1974, Robert Fripp gilt-edged his reputation for forward momentum via a series of canny collaborations: associating with Eno, Bowie and Gabriel while simultaneously embracing the new wave by recording with Blondie and Talking Heads – and even taking to the stage with The Damned.
Having doubly redefined his trademark Frippertronics with his second solo album, 1980’s David Byrne-featuring God Save The Queen/Under Heavy Manners, Fripp assembled a new Crimson for a new decade with Bill Bruford (returning on drums), Tony Levin (Chapman Stick, bass) and Talking Heads’ Adrian Belew (Byrne-alike vocal and stunt guitar).
It was a lithe, scalpel-sharp quartet that raised the bar on melodic complexity and breathtaking virtuosity, pressing the reset button on prog, incorporating minimalism, world music, post-punk and funk tropes. There was humour, oblique artiness and an irresistible melodic populism entrenched in the quartet’s debut, Discipline, released in October 1981.
Sheltering Skies captures this nouveau Crimson operating at full-tilt in the Côte d’Azur, as they toured Europe in support of Beat, the line-up’s second album (and the band’s ninth in total). Having been previously available in edited form on video as The Noise, this show has become the first 80s Crimson concert to be released on vinyl: two weighty 200g discs (or a single CD) capturing the evening’s full show, along with a second, alternative version of Discipline’s The Sheltering Sky, from the previous night’s performance at Cap D’Agde.
It’s nothing short of a blistering display of mesmerising intensity. Is there anything quite as soothingly beatific as Matte Kudasai, playing out under azure skies in the south of France? Or more urgent than Elephant Talk, in all its pinwheeling, fretboard-flaying glory?
Previous Crimson is tautly redefined: Red menaces and Larks’ Tongues In Aspic (Part II) slashes. Their freshest Beat material (Neal And Jack And Me, Heartbeat) simply flies. Their peerless technique may be out of step with an era that’s more readily associated with Duran Duran and Spandau Ballet, but their image is extremely of its time – hair is slickly styled, suits are sharp, and Belew’s vast Alexis Carrington shoulder pads don’t even start to make sense.
It’s stupefying, seat-of-the-pants stuff, nicely served by a crisp, revelatory sound mix. The whole thing is especially ripe for reappraisal in light of Belew and Levin – plus Steve Vai and Tool drummer Danny Carey – touring the States, performing material from the period as Beat.
Sheltering Skies is on sale now via DGM/Panegyric.
