Robert Fripp

Robert Fripp's Diary

Tuesday 04 March 2003

Hotel Acceptable, Alexandria, Virginia.


E-flurry discharged. Incoming mail included a request for free tickets & will I see you after the show? This is a sufficient indication to me that I need now go off-line. Playing guitar in this band is enough, without the other band responsibilities that fall to me; without the personal responsibilities that are part of living a life; without the professional & DGM responsibilities that fall to me. Very little of the work on the road has to do with playing music: it is the price we accept in order to embrace that privilege. Which doesn't mean we have to accept vampirism.


Computing at Fripp Mobile HQ in the parking lot.

Now, a break before setting off to the Birchmere for soundcheck. MJK has called to report a 100% improvement in the Belewbeloidle health. Ade is coming to soundcheck to fully discover how wretched he is, or not. ProjeKct Three, so recently reformed with 100% of its original members, may now be about-to-be-becoming ceasing-to-exist. Although another reformation is always possible. Even a tour. Even an album.


Back on the Crimbus, I am suddenly & unexpectedly checked-out of the Radisson. The words overnight drive to New York on our day-sheet had escaped my attention.


Once more on the Crimbus, in Mobile HQ. We are pulling out & leaving for the Washington hotel to pick up remaining Crims, and then we hurtle off into the cold night towards NYCNY.

King Crimson has returned. Adrian is back. Playing to a seated house, with tables, is a particular kind of event. The Birchmere, as a venue (and one I enjoy), is probably better suited to P3 than KC. That is, King Crimson with our current repertoire & production rig. The audience were supportive & generous, and the sound contained & tuned to the room; that is, not loud. Onstage, the sound was interesting. Very much a beginning again performance, with simple errors.

There was, however, a significant level of violation. Did I see anything? No. Was I told of anything? No. So how do I know? Because of a feeling in my solar plexus. My sense of this has now been validated so many times that I feel no necessity to justify this sense to those who don't experience it.


The Crimbus is fully loaded, and driving out of central DC. Mahler is tuning the air in Mobile HQ while I edit the Sanctuary press conference. This is a job sent to me from Laura at DGM HQ.