Robert Fripp's Diary

Hotel Acceptable Westbury In the

09.46

Hotel Acceptable, Westbury.

In the breakfasting zone, cold blasts of air waft in every time the hotel doors swing back, which happens frequently. But what does this matter? I am dressed as if I were outside, have a power outlet for computer, a friendly & helpful Serving

Person, and coffee.

12.13  E-flurrying & laundry done.

 Lobby call 13.00. I am riding with The League – Biff & the equipment van set off at 11.30.

19.23  Narrows Center For The Arts, Fall River, MA.

An accident on the highway held up Mr. Beefy & the equipment van. In the :CG van, we recalibrated our route before setting off & arrived c. 16.10, only 10 minutes after Mr. Beefy & equipment.

The space…

The view I…

II…

The LCG I…

II…

The first dressing room…

… through to the second dressing room…

During sound check, a noticeable buzz on the PA made ppp problematic and, given our late arrivals, without sufficient time available, to find / hunt / stomp the sucker down. This makes / made life harder for Biff & Sylvain.

01.58 Hotel Acceptable, Westbury.

A strong reception from a generous audience, with hold at the end of Calliope.

And touching: twice on the arm, while leaving the stage, and once on fingers, as my hand was on the top of the Solar Voyager. This is an interesting topic, not yet much discussed on ET & the DGM Guestbook, and venturing into the area of preternatural sensibilities. Touching – it changes nothing! What difference can it make? It only gives me happy memories!

When RF & The LCG were playing Washington Square Church in NYC (I believe 1989), as I was leading the snake out of the performance area, one young man reached out and touched me, turning triumphantly to a second young man, clearly his pal, immediately afterwards – I’ve touched Fripp! Of course, harmless. Nothing could happen – it was only touching! So, what was the young man’s aim in touching? To transfer energy to the guitarist at the top of the guitar snake? On this particular occasion in Washington Square Church, I instantly sensed myself becoming less: as if the virtue had left him. I report this as it was in the moment, although doubting that rational, innocent audients who hand over their hard-earned pay & get all manner of rights in return will make much of it. I file it under the subtleties of performance life.

And quite the worst after-show supper of this tour: garlic spread with penne. At-the-table commentary & Q&A addressing whether performance today has changed from earlier years of this Gigster. The quick answer: yes. Also told: the story of we give you money! in the CBS building at Rockefeller Plaza in January 1980, one small part of the superb liberal education that the life of the professional musician has made available to me. This story addresses photography, consumer rights & the obviation of the performer’s humanity; and the last time I picked up someone & held them against a wall.