KING CRIMSON:
A Short History
Part 1: 1969-1974 (To be followed by 1981-2007)
by Marshall Bowden
King Crimson burst onto a musical scene that
was replete with experimentalism and the addition of new
levels of musicianship and blending of stylistic elements
in rock and popular music. Just as the global political,
cultural, and social climates were engaged in heady change,
so was the musical landscape. Interestingly, jazz music
also underwent a similar stage of experimentalism at this
time, and crossover between jazz and rock was increasingly
the norm.
The behemoth of progressive (‘prog’) rock was
about to be invented and defined, as usual by a music press
and industry that had a vested interest in the ‘next
big thing.’ But in 1969, King Crimson, Yes, and a
fledgling Genesis were developing in ways that still paid
tribute to the music which proceeded true prog rock: heavy
guitar vibes a la Hendrix, and a helping of psychedelia.
’Since 1992 it has again been possible to discuss
without whispering the music of 1969-1976," Crimson
founder Robert Fripp recently opined in liner notes to the
collection The Night Watch. "But I offer no
apology for the transparently pratty music played by young
dopes wearing satin." Which is interesting considering
that the group’s debut, with typically future mediaeval
lyrics by Peter Sinfield, would seem the very definition
of what Fripp is disparaging here. “I don’t
think I was really part of the progressive scene,"
he says. "I was just playing music in that period."
Despite the fact that a great deal of the
music played by the original Crimson lineup of Robert Fripp/Ian
McDonald/Greg Lake/Michael Giles/Peter Sinfield was, indeed,
part of the progressive scene, there is no question that
the entity that is King Crimson, has transcended that initial
identity and a good many others besides. The band has thrived
on personnel changes and as a result, on musical change
as well. While more successful prog rock acts such as Yes
and Emerson, Lake & Palmer solidified their sounds and
approaches and then repeated them consistently until a change
in musical styles forced them to reconsider their approaches,
King Crimson has changed personnel, and even disbanded for
lengthy periods of time, only to re-emerge when there is,
in the parlance of Fripp himself, Crimson music to be made.
That music rarely has much in common with the music created
by the lineup of musicians which preceded the current one,
though post-millenial editions of the group have begun to
sound, at times, alarmingly similar.
Crimson I: 1/13/69—12/69
Michael Giles (drums) and his brother Peter
(bass) sought to put together a sort of power trio in late
1967. Robert Fripp responded to their advertisement for
a singing organist, resulting in the group Giles, Giles,
and Fripp. Their lone LP, The Cheerful Insantiy of Giles,
Giles, and Fripp, is jazzy and sometimes reminiscent
of the Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd’s psychedelic pop.
The album was not particularly well received and the group
began to morph almost immediately.
Fripp
brought in Ian McDonald, a multi-instrumentalist and composer
who played keyboards and a variety of woodwind instruments.
Also coming along was lyricist Peter Sinfield, with whom
McDonald had been writing songs. The group was complete
with the replacement of Peter Giles by Greg Lake, a singer-guitarist
who Fripp had known for many years. The group invested in
a Mellotron, which was a large expense at the time, but
which helped create a distinctive orchestral sound that
added a profound dimension to the group’s sonic landscape.
Essentially a keyboard-driven primitive sampler, the instrument
allows brief (8 second) sound samples to be played back
by a tape head when a key is depressed. The group used the
instrument to great effect on the title track of their debut
recording In the Court of the Crimson King.
While In the Court of the Crimson King
contains many elements of what would come to be defined
as the prog rock sound, it is an undeniably beautiful album
that, while still influenced by the psychedelic imagery
of the time, contains a much darker, edgier overall view,
which Fripp has come to call the ‘bleak Crimscape.’
Sinfield’s lyrics are influenced by the occult, the
life of Frederick II (The Crimson King), and the poetry
of Robert Blake, among other influences. Indeed, like Blake,
Sinfield seems to have constructed not just a set of lyrics
to each song, but something of an entire mythology that
overrides the debut album as well as the following albums
for which he wrote lyrics: In the Wake of Poseidon,
Lizard, and Islands.
The album’s opening track is the ferocious
“21st Century Schizoid Man” which features a
heavy guitar riff doubled by blasting saxophones and suggests
the development of heavy metal/hard rock/grunge. Lake’s
studio-processed vocals are spitting and fragmented. It’s
an extremely aggressive opening number that ends in a blast
of free jazz-inspired jamming. It is followed by the delicate
“I Talk to the Wind” and the magisterial “Epitaph.”
This track concluded the vinyl album’s first side.
It has been suggested that Crimson King’s first side
addresses modern concerns, while the second takes us into
the distant past\, with past and present illuminating each
other. “Epitaph” is, in this construct, a link
between the two, concluding with the following stanza:
Confusion will be my epitaph.
As I crawl a cracked and broken path
If we make it we can all sit back
And laugh.
But I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying…
The second side contains two lengthy tracks.
“Moonchild” is an unusual tune, with lyrics
that suggest an eerie love song between an entity devoted
to the moon and one devoted to the sun. Instrumentally it
features a lengthy improvisational section that once again
brings a free jazz aesthetic to bear on the music. The album
concludes with the regal “Court of the Crimson King,”
replete with obscure yet symbolic Sinfield lyrics and gorgeous,
Mellotron-heavy music.
Crimson II: 1969-1971
While
this edition of King Crimson toured both the UK and U.S.,
they morphed into a new band at the end of 1969. McDonald
and Giles were less than happy with the band’s overall
direction and the pressures of three months of touring the
U.S. Lake also decided to leave, having been approached
by Keith Emerson about forming a new band that turned out
to be Emerson, Lake & Palmer. However, Lake agreed to
stay on long enough to record vocals for the group’s
second album, In the Wake of Poseidon.
Poseidon is postulated to be the
‘water’ album to Crimson King’s
‘air’. It is, in many ways, a retreading of
the first album’s territory, and if anything it ended
up sounding better production-wise. It still relied heavily
on the Mellotron, now played by Fripp and new sax player
Mel Collins, who is generally thought to be the most standout
talent from this lineup. Lake sang all but one song, the
impossibly beautiful and delicate “Cadence and Cascade”
which was sung by Fripp’s childhood friend Gordon
Haskell, who also took on bass chores. Pianist Keith Tippett
also appeared on the album, as well as on subsequent albums
Lizard and Islands, but he turned down
Fripp’s offer to officially join Crimson.
Lizard,
Crimson’s third album, was recorded by this lineup,
with Haskell and McCullogh (drums) walking out upon its
completion. Haskell left unfinished the vocal work to “Prince
Rupert’s Lament”, part of the concluding title
suite, and Yes vocalist Jon Anderson was brought in to provide
vocals on this number, a welcome addition to the group’s
overall sound. While Lizard managed to forge a
new sound for the group independent of the first two albums,
it is the most ignored Crimson release, with Fripp himself
pretty much refusing to acknowledge it on the box set 21st
Century Guide to King Crimson. One reason for this
may be that, while Fripp busied himself with putting together
a new touring band Peter Sinfeild was left to put the finishing
touches on the album’s sound and artwork, perhaps
resulting in a non-Fripp approved product. At the end of
1970 Fripp hired drummer Ian Wallace and vocalist Boz Burrell,
who he also taught to play bass. Fripp, Burrell, Collins,
and Wallace spent 1971 touring behind the album Islands.
While that album was in many ways the weakest of the first
four Crimson releases, it has its own charms and perhaps
suffers unduly in comparison with its more famous predecessors.
The group toured for the entire year and the album did fairly
well as a result. Fripp asked Sinfield to leave the Crimson
orbit, bringing this first era of the group to an effective
close.
Fripp
brought in Ian McDonald, a multi-instrumentalist and composer
who played keyboards and a variety of woodwind instruments.
Also coming along was lyricist Peter Sinfield, with whom
McDonald had been writing songs. The group was complete
with the replacement of Peter Giles by Greg Lake, a singer-guitarist
who Fripp had known for many years. The group invested in
a Mellotron, which was a large expense at the time, but
which helped create a distinctive orchestral sound that
added a profound dimension to the group’s sonic landscape.
Essentially a keyboard-driven primitive sampler, the instrument
allows brief (8 second) sound samples to be played back
by a tape head when a key is depressed. The group used the
instrument to great effect on the title track of their debut
recording In the Court of the Crimson King. 
While
this edition of King Crimson toured both the UK and U.S.,
they morphed into a new band at the end of 1969. McDonald
and Giles were less than happy with the band’s overall
direction and the pressures of three months of touring the
U.S. Lake also decided to leave, having been approached
by Keith Emerson about forming a new band that turned out
to be Emerson, Lake & Palmer. However, Lake agreed to
stay on long enough to record vocals for the group’s
second album, In the Wake of Poseidon. 
Lizard,
Crimson’s third album, was recorded by this lineup,
with Haskell and McCullogh (drums) walking out upon its
completion. Haskell left unfinished the vocal work to “Prince
Rupert’s Lament”, part of the concluding title
suite, and Yes vocalist Jon Anderson was brought in to provide
vocals on this number, a welcome addition to the group’s
overall sound. While Lizard managed to forge a
new sound for the group independent of the first two albums,
it is the most ignored Crimson release, with Fripp himself
pretty much refusing to acknowledge it on the box set 21st
Century Guide to King Crimson. One reason for this
may be that, while Fripp busied himself with putting together
a new touring band Peter Sinfeild was left to put the finishing
touches on the album’s sound and artwork, perhaps
resulting in a non-Fripp approved product. At the end of
1970 Fripp hired drummer Ian Wallace and vocalist Boz Burrell,
who he also taught to play bass. Fripp, Burrell, Collins,
and Wallace spent 1971 touring behind the album Islands.
While that album was in many ways the weakest of the first
four Crimson releases, it has its own charms and perhaps
suffers unduly in comparison with its more famous predecessors.
The group toured for the entire year and the album did fairly
well as a result. Fripp asked Sinfield to leave the Crimson
orbit, bringing this first era of the group to an effective
close.