It was around my fifteenth birthday in March 1970 that I first heard King Crimson. I used to own an old reel-to-reel Grundig tape recorder and my school mate, Albert Holland, played me a tape with
21st Century Schizoid Man and
The Court of the Crimson King on it. Around the same time I recall hearing the title track from the new Crimson album,
In The Wake of Poseidon on Alan Freeman's
Pick of the Pops programme on Radio One, where he used to play tracks by bands like Crimson and Van Der Graaf Generator before the Top Thirty on a Sunday afternoon. The essential late night listening experience of
Jensen's Dimensions on Radio Luxembourg, hosted by DJ Kid Jensen, gave me a further dose of this new KC album as well as introducing me to the delights of Deep Purple and Curved Air. The new Crimson single, an edit of the album track,
Catfood, was also a 'Power Play' on Luxembourg at the time (on the hour, every hour!) so these four tracks were my introduction to the band. The first record I bought with a KC track on it was the Island Records sampler,
Bumpers, also featuring tracks by Traffic, Bronco, Quintessence, Mott the Hoople, Fairport Convention, Free and many other Island artists.
In those days, my pocket money rarely stretched to album purchases, so it wasn't until January 1971 that I swapped a copy of Five Bridges by the Nice for a copy of King Crimson's Lizard, courtesy of school mate Paul Levy (I'd bought my first guitar from Paul in April 1970, a Watkins Rapier 33). Albert had primed me by first playing me Lizard, a record he had touted as 'musical perfection' and I had to agree, it had a massive musical impact on me and, if pressed to pick an all-time favourite album, I'd probably still choose Lizard, even now. Having added the previous two Crimson albums to my collection by the spring of 1971, it was with great excitement that Albert and I left the East End of London and headed up to the city for our first live viewing of one of the King Crimson variants in action on 19th May at the Lyceum Ballroom in the Strand. The queue stretched right around the block and as we queued outside, we could hear the sound of the band's soundcheck drifting out into the street, it was Cirkus from Lizard and boy, did it sound good! This new line-up, following the reshuffles of the last two albums , consisted of Robert Fripp (guitar & mellotron), Mel Collins (sax, flute & mellotron), Boz Burrell (bass & vocals), Ian Wallace (drums) and Pete Sinfield (words & illumination) to be greeted by 2,000 progressive rock fans packed into the Lyceum, the first gig I'd been to that had standing room at the front, so we were able to work our way close to the stage for an optimum viewing and listening experience.
The aroma of patchouli oil filled the air and cool looking chicks floated by in flowing dresses, the vibe of the sixties was still strongly felt at these early seventies gigs and the excitement, optimism and forward momentum of that remarkable decade hadn't yet been eroded, as it would be in the darker times that would follow. A great time to be alive and an even better time to be a teenager. The support act was ex-Bonzo Dog Band sax player, Roger Ruskin Spear, with a stage full of musical robots - at the climax of one of his mad escapades, a robot's head exploded and streams of bubbles poured out - brilliant! Albert and I were both big Bonzo's fans and would always end up listening to their excellent album The Doughnut In Granny's Greenhouse at our gatherings at Al's place, as we supped on Holland's Home Brew. As the main event of the evening approached, the anticipation and excitement was a tangible presence in the air and King Crimson took the stage to a heroes welcome. With Fripp perched on a stool stage right, gripping his black Les Paul, Mel Collins stage left with sax in hand, Boz up front clutching his bass guitar and ex-Bonzo, Ian Wallace behind the kit, the band kicked into Pictures of a City from In The Wake of Poseidon, it was mind boggling to see Fripp up close, sitting rapt and in deep concentration as his fingers hammered out those karate-like riffs at lightning speed with dazzling precision as Mel Collins' sax painted a musical portrait of New York, you could almost feel the madness, traffic and the hustle & bustle of the metropolis.
Other tracks performed that evening were a memorable reading of The Court of the Crimson King, preceded by Fripp playing The Illusion from Moonchild, as Boz dragged around several sets of bells on strings, very atmospheric, and when that famous mellotron intro crashed in, it was smiles all round. Mel got a chance to stretch out on flute on this one, before reverting to mellotron, along with Fripp for a dramatic rendition of The Devil's Triangle, Fripp's rewrite of Gustav Holst's Mars;Bringer of War, after the Holst estate had refused the band permission to record the original for Poseidon. Pete Sinfield's lightshow came into its own here, giving the impression the band were playing surrounded by red flames (live in Hell!). During a cover of Donovan's Bearings, Ian Wallace took a memorable drum solo in which he climbed atop a PA stack and threw drumsticks at his kit as it was fed through Sinfield's VCS3 synthesiser, one of the few entertaining drum solos I've seen, as these interludes were usually an excuse to head for the bar - not so this time! The unrealsed A Sailor's Tale proved to be an engiging instrumental with demon soloing from both Collins and Fripp, this track would emerge on the next KC album, Islands, later in the year.
The gentler Cadence & Cascade featured fluid flute lines from Collins and a sesitive reading of this courtesan's tale by Boz. No KC gig would be complete without a devasting Schizoid Man and so it proved as Fripp demonstrated White Magic on his black guitar and Collins tore into his soloing, what a great sax player he always was, one of my all-time favourites, musically literate and supremely tasteful. The band were called back for two encores, a delicate Lady of the Dancing Water and the drama of Cirkus, a perfect way to end a perfect gig. I saw other Crimson gigs after this, but that night at the Lyceum remains my fondest memory of this great band. This particular line-up lasted another year before imploding, on release of the bootleg quality live album, Earthbound in 1972, the performances on which bear no comparison to the tight, disciplined band I enjoyed at the Lyceum the previous year. Fripp would be working his magic on a new line-up later in 1972 but that's another story for another time....