ABSENT LOVERS - LIVE IN MONTREAL, 1984

Crimson fans wished that they had had this album long before its 1998 release date. It's from the last night of the "Three of a Perfect Pair" tour, a tour marked by wildly divergent concerts -- one night hugely satisfying, the next...not. The band knew that this particular iteration was over and done with, and this particular farewell concert showcases them all at their best. It was time to be done, and they knew it, but they had one more monster concert in them, and this was it.

After the opening "Entry of the Crims" improv, basically the three guitarists (including Levin's monstrously thick bass) holding single-note drones at the threshold of pain, Fripp lashes the audience with a barrage of guitar leading into a fast-paced "Larks Tongues III," the almost danceable reworking of the earlier "Larks' Tongues" instrumentals from the 1971-2 band. Belew takes the vocals, and gives the audience a healthy dose of feedback-driven guitar pyrotechnics, in "Thela Hun Ginjeet," always an audience favorite, and this time featuring the spoken-word vocals from Belew originally (and accidentally) recorded for the 1980 studio version. (Some KC live performances omitted the vocal track, to the song's detriment.) KC fans always love to hear the new band dip into the old catalog, and they do so with the metallic, driving "Red," a song saved from train-wreck status by its strict structure and T-Rex bass line. Belew gives a haunting performance of the love song "Matte Kudasai," leading into the "weird" segment of the evening with "Industry," a thunderously cadenced instrumenta driven by Levin and Belewl, and the harsh, twisted guitars of "Dig Me." The beautiful guitar filigrees of "Three of a Perfect Pair" get the band back into a more "traditional" groove, and ends with a whimsical yet stunningly powerful rendition of the sonic assault piece "Indiscipline," one of the tracks that separates the KC fans from the rest of humanity. It's hard to imagine Fripp any more savagely aggressive than on the studio track, but his guitar here makes the studio performace seem almost tame.

The second CD opens with a Levin feature, "Sartori in Tangier," showing Levin's mastery of the more exotic capabilities of the Chapman Stick, territory which will be explored more fully by Trey Gunn's Warr Guitar in the 1990s iteration of the band. A strong rendition of "Frame by Frame," featuring Belew and Fripp's beautifully intertwined guitars, leads into the almost radio-ready pop of "Man With an Open Heart;" Levin handles both bass guitar and bass synth duties here. At this point in time, not that many KC fans knew Belew plays drums as well as guitar; he and Bruford get to duet on "Waiting Man," one of the most powerful songs in the catalog; this version I find much more satisfying than the studio version with its almost orgasmic release into a beautifully staccato ending. The next track, "Sleepless," was one of this band's few forays into FM popularity, actually winning some fans on the NYC dance floors and angering Bruford, who refused to play such a disco-y beat on the original album (Levin pieced the drum track together from tapes). Here Bruford rises to the challenge and gives a much more complex rhythm for the song without losing sight of its straightforward danceability. The band gives its last fireworks in a staggeringly powerful version of "Larks' Tongues in Aspic II," a gale-force hurricane of sonic artillery that knocks audiences out of their seats and leaves them breathless. The regular concert comes to a transcendant end with a deeply satisfying, if slightly measured, version of "Discipline," a showcase of intertwining and interconnecting guitars, bass, and percussion.

The last two songs comprise the encore, with my least favorite KC song of the period, "Heartbeat," a rather traditional Belew love song that earns its encore position by the fact that it got some airplay, and finally, the crowd favorite "Elephant Talk," a comedic, ironic showcase for Belew's fractured lyrics as well as two final guitar solos.

Overall, everyone has their moments. Bruford gets to dazzle the audience with his stellar drumming, Levin shakes the foundations with his huge, deep bass roars and melodic ostinatos, Belew's vocals and stagecraft are right on the money, and there's more than enough fireworks from Fripp and Belew's two-guitar assault to leave any KC fan prostrate and still begging for "just one more."

This is, to my mind, the most essential of the live recordings that KC has ever made, even above "USA/Casino." If you're a KC fan who hasn't yet acquired this double CD, skip paying the electric bill this month if you have to, just get it. You need it. If you want to introduce yourself to the wonder that is Crimson, this is a good place to start.