In The Court of the Crimson King

As we approach the annual airing of family grievances what better Festivus gift than the new King Crimson documentary? 50 years of gripes and grudges!

Robert Fripp can be very funny these days but probably wasn’t back then. And not always now. ‘I don’t have the problem. The problem lies elsewhere’. Is he a good advert for the mysticism of Gurdjieff and JG Bennett? Maybe he would have been even more disagreeable without it. Having said that he has achieved infinitely more than most people. His omelette required the breaking of many eggs, and some egos. Half a century of complex music, ever evolving improvisation, the logistical nightmare of travel and legal wrangles. This obviously requires some steely glances from the besuited taskmaster.

As an idiot ex-hippy I’m in no position to criticise. I found it hard keeping a duo together. Then I was the only solo act who split up due to ‘musical differences’.

KC music ranges from sensual beauty to the grim and oppressive. After the initial teenage rapture I eventually tired of the jackhammer metal misery bits which was why some of the first band left, breaking Robert’s heart.

We see a heartfelt apology from Ian McDonald. The scarily astute Bill Rieflin talks us through his imminent death from cancer. There are recollections from some well balanced gentlemen and spikier memories from several people who are still a little miffed.

There are many charming moments. This is a dream job for singer/guitarist Jakko who was an adolescent Crimson disciple. He even had a dog called Fripp. Jakko and drum virtuoso Gavin Harrison briefly slummed it with me in the Tom Robinson band raising the general competence level drastically. It’s a shame there wasn’t more of Gavin’s wicked laddish humour although it wouldn’t have fitted with Fripp’s austere spiritual mindset. Discipline. We have ways of making you REALLY FOCUSSED AND INTENSE.

The project is a constant search for the meaning of life, raising profound questions such as: why invite someone to make a documentary and then treat them like an intruder? Is the peevish persona a put on or will touring turn the mildest of men into a tinpot Hitler?

Funny. Poignant. Enlightening. Best rock doc since Spinal Tap.

It’s more than rock n roll.

And I like it.

(DVD/Blueray)