LIZARD

King Crimson encloses in Lizard doubtless the most artistic movement of their early alter-fame and their avant-garde clever prog underscore. Or definitely the aesthetic one above all, out of everything surpassing, relentlessly, the "oh so normal" drifts of contemporary action and feedback. And heavy as torment's spontaneous as well, since that's apparently an enormous tag for its complexity. Unexpectedly this is one of my recent belief (opportunely, something like a good appreciation never actually drops down from a high view, once reaching it) on the album's worth and art endeavor, since for a good period I disliked the more experimental and florid achievements of early crimsoned "folly"; imperatively Islands in its dangle of sounds, but this one as well. Right now, the likes of it are actually more than fulfilling, for such elevated times (which giant, up to now, isn't consecrated by something mirobolant?) and also for such pretentious beliefs: the one of cataclysmic zeal, the one for a better symbolized flavor, the one for intense heaps of lonesome prog rock gem-hinging. Lizard is, by immensurable taste, legendary and effectively grand-scaled. But for me, the magic of it goes much deeper and much less in congruent, ordinary characters. It's a fact of a beautiful soreness towards the present and the real, but an intense wonder of a strange, undesirable almost, eclecticism. A "miniature" of escalation and deep feeling. An odd comfort in extraordinary chaos. And so on. In The Wake Of Poseidon remains my favorite early King Crimson, and, well, In The Court Of The Crimson King has a way of being considered an imperative untouchable master-class, master-power (etc.) (despite its own greatest beliefs being on a different note than it should). So Lizard is impeccable listening for a very.advanced type of music confounding. That's almost an irresistible and incontestable mania around the scales of both mesmerizing and simply impelling, opportunist pioneering, classic prog.

Moments of style are aversely fragmented and united.Lizard's a hectic experience of pure "acoustic" prog gleam, total jazz-(rock) drifts and illusions, soft arranged avant umber tones, bit classical (to actually incite the "bolero" steps to an art transposition), bit space-edged, experimental (better said: fieriest improvisational) drafts of general melting forms, nod-lifted diverse elements (a basic mood), "medievalism", "contemporary"!, close (self-) parody, narration or dispersion (lyrics, but also some fluent or disruptive chords!), thematic or repetitions, clueless acts of soar and reproach dynamics in contrast with rather mellow tranquil infusions. The whole set. The Crimson frantic worth array, that is. In an idea of actually placing the common sense of Fripp's (or Sinfield too) plain conventional magnitude, my favorite artists are Collins, with passages of sax insanity, and Tippets (showing the jazz retype of the album's value), by small clips of accommodative grins. From kaleidoscopic to cacophonous, from stringent to warm, from inquiring to revealing and from memorable to.what else?

I'm putting a walkthrough imitation, out of liking this discrete memento. Cirkus is a big unusual sentiment of tone-tune and obvious simple-headed expansion for me, through its dark "refrain", one that almost seems illusive, adamant and of eyesight subsides, but also through a clouded gift in lead singing and paraphrasing. A track of taste and of cumbrous notch. Indoor Games already moves to the swing of jazziness and the dash of lights and impends. Happy Family is a more retro/retrieved source of fainted spell, moving around a circle of motions and a known act of lyrical virulence/dramatic cadence. Lady Of The Dancing Water is even more sheltered (through the middle Lizard affection actually, the sharpness of pronounced changes is faintly blunted; these two pieces are for an impressionistic, also imprecise, metering set, rather than a best moment of gleams), but its prime effect is a shortly orientated avant meager pat, made for a lush of words in a less accurate sway. Finally (and not just finally: eventually; ultimately; continuously; incessantly; endlessly) the title epic resonates magnitude in composition and in hearth effect. Resembling the peak of dissonance experimentation, jazz craze pump, flawless instrumental and very tasty disarrangements. Lots of symbols speak in too short meanings. Great music power fancies too often conclusions.

Lastly, here's the actual magic I very much appreciate behind the concept drama and the mix of greatest mind fragments ever "miniaturized": the hidden humor in a cursive language, the juxtapose of beliefs, the distortion of valid sanity, the subdued verse of light and darkness, of tranquil and insane, of grief and grave, of music carnival-esque redress of style and caricature. The great groove motion. Strange ethos of sharing brilliance. And such, being not tangible features of a listening, but impression of a more unintentional aftertaste.

Lizard's a trace of essential listening, best atone for the taste of it inside the pleasure of a incandescent lightheartedness. Much recommended.