Robert Fripp's Diary

Hotel Very Acceptable Berlin A

A 2.5 hour drive from Hamburg to Berlin.

The venue was much better than last night's in Hamburg: standing, and with manageable acoustics.

At the soundcheck P3 looked at "FraKctured" when Adrian returned to the hotel. Trey & I had both independently come to the same conclusion: the fuzz blasting lines of terror in 15 are unplayable as the rhythm section parts are presently written. So, there and then, the Rhythm Buddies re-arranged their parts and came up with a very different approach. Now, the piece is very hard but possible: we are all travelling on the same map, rather than following grids placed above & below each other. There is flexibility regarding how we move across the terrain, but now we seem to be heading the same way!

This is a novelty for me in Crimson: to have a rhythm section which supports & encourages the front line, as well as following its own initiatives. I'm rather more used to a guitar solo being the excuse for the rhythm section to hurtle even more precariously sideways than during the written material. Adrian handles this superbly & without even drawing breath: he werns, squerns, blasts, honks & stomps over whatever terror (nominally in support or accompaniment position) he gets handed (or dropped into).

Michael Giles established the Crimson convention of drummers defying gravity and, where either necessity or an opportunity presents itself, defying the front line. No one on the planet could have followed Giles when he left at the end of 1969: he was the leader in a pack of one.

One of the strengths & determining characteristics of Crimson is this: it enables and makes possible opportunities for players which aren't possible anywhere else. This is part of what makes Crimson special (acknowledging my bias). But a price is paid for that enablingness. Crimson was the only group in which Giles could have been Giles. And was he not? I never knew Michael play badly - ever, in whatever situation: recording, rehearsing, performing. In 1969 this man was a force of nature. His work in rock has never been surpassed.

Ian Wallace, underrated for his work in Crimson but well-established & respected outside the narrow cellar of prog commentary, was more concerned with working within tradition: providing a pocket & a groove, and then moving from there with inflection & deviation. Ian's two idiosyncratic & quintessentially Crim parts are those to "Sailor's Tale" & "Ladies Of The Road" (of which Ian is well aware). Archive recordings featuring his drum solos (usually synthesised) show the boy's no slouch when it comes to stepping out. But fundamentally, Ian interpreted his role as supportive, foundational & related to the provision of time. Boz' beginning status as bass player (but not as musician) rather made this a necessity, anyway, as Ian's own comments have made clear. (Anyone doubting Ian's calibre might reflect on whether Bob Dylan or Don Henley are known for compromising over the quality of their players).

The rhythm section of John Wetton & Bill Bruford (1973/74) is an English rock classic of staggering power. Their idea of accompaniment was to dance on the fingertips of a soloist hanging from a thin ledge over a ravine; at least, that's when they were being sensitive & supportive. When they brought the back line into the front line (a legitimate Crimson convention, and a form of Double Duo) they were less considerate of our position.

The section of 1981/84 was intended to be internally balanced, and then in turn balanced against the front line. I had hoped that T. Lev would lock Bill into the group pulse, allowing Bill within that all the room he wanted to deviate, inflect, twist & be the contagiously enthusiastic Bartley Butsford that we know and love. I hadn't allowed for how supportive & fair-minded Tony was & is. He figured, "Well, that's another approach", and followed Bill through the ensuing twists & turns, even when the front line was holding on to time by its teeth. Bill's idea of accompaniment (at that period) was to kick out at the lips of guitarists hanging by their incisors from a bending polymetric twig dangling over a precipice next to a sign pointing downwards with the words written upon it: "Certain Death".

Tonight's performance was mainly successful (putting aside for the moment a debate on "what is successful performance?"). An earnest gentleman shouted "Bruford!" several times when we arrived onstage. Perhaps he got with the programme, modified his attitude, accepted that Bill has become a little more thick set with a change of hair colour, even fell into quietude, or left. Another gentleman in the front row hated "Heroes" (an encore) if his booing (loudly & heroically) was in any way indicative; alternatively, maybe he had simply adopted an ironic post-modernist audience stance. Adrian noticed two serious men in front of me, & guessed they'd come to see flying fingers. I'm not a guitarist for that kind of person, so maybe their unsmiling faces indicated disappointment, or approval. How to interpret this mass of faces?

Overall, the group had a good time & most of the audience appeared enthusiastic. Once again, we note an increase in the proportion of women at all shows so far (although the one in front of Trey looked distinctly unhappy).

At the end of the set I stepped forwards to get a better sight of the audience & immediately a camera appeared & clicked away on infra red. After that, I remained towards the back of the stage. Those posters who argue that the simple act of (non-flash) photography can't possibly affect Fripp / anyone / anything in any way - but hey! you weren't playing at the time & therefore my behaviour is utterly irrelevant to you, shouts the photographer and supportive cohorts - are suggesting I disregard my feelings & experiencing.

An act bears & transmits the force (charge) of its intent. The subject of the act may experience the intent, rather than the (but it can't possibly change anything!) action. Something like, we experience an act of will, rather than an act of photography (or autography, or recording, or whatever). Artists live by their subtle perceptions. Please don't deny me mine. But why should I have to continue arguing this point with those who (I assume) have been touched in some way by Crimson / RF work? This may not be your experience. Fine. This is my experience. Surely, equally fine?

09.55
Up at 06.15 for breakfast in the winter garden: a quiet 2 hours of reading & good food. We're into the lobby at 10.30 for a 5-6 hour drive. Fortunately we're not playing today: a drive over 4 hours blunts my faculties & dulls my edge.

15.31
Hotel Acceptable, Nuremberg.

The drive to Nurenberg took just over four hours. Sweaty, dozy.

20.31
This is a town to walk around. Nurenberg is the only German city where I've had some sense of a medieval city at its core. There are many towns in France & Italy where the history continues to emanate from the architecture & public spaces. Tragically, not much in Germany.

I sat at the CafÈ Lorenzo & looked across at the Church of St. Lorenzo, much as I sat at a cafÈ in Rouen in 1980 gazing in wonder at the cathedral; or gazed at the astounding town hall of La Grande Place in Brussels (1979, 1980, 1981) as it began to speak to me. Today I took a book to read rather than a notebook. Reading of choice is by Jason Elliot (son of Pierre & Vivien Elliot, my adoptive aunt & uncle) "An Unexpected Light: Travels In Afghanistan" (Picador,1999). This book has heart.

Then walked around some more. On one street corner a band of costumed players entertained a gathering (in Bavarian dress?). A naked man was dancing gently & smiling. No-one seemed bothered by this. And why should they? There was no sense of violence or disturbance coming from him. He was bouncing about gently to the music, on a sunny day, with his willy bouncing along in rhythm too. I walked on.

After a further walk around, I went into the Church of St. Lorenzo and sat quietly in the front pew. The faith & culture which gave rise to the cathedrals and churches of Gothic Europe, creating symbolic encyclopedia & works of reference to persist through time, seemed so much further away from me even than 1980. Tears came to my eyes. Then, around the church & its treasures, and to the photos of it in 1945. Perhaps some Diary visitors have seen the famous photograph (available on postcard) of Nuremberg after the bombing. Tears came to my eyes again.

20.54
Crimson factoid from Trey: TCOL has risen from No. 9 yesterday to No. 7 today on the Amazon hit parade. "The Repercussions Of Angelic Behaviour" (Rieflin, Fripp & Gunn) is No. 10,400.

23.13
Although planning to have an early night, I've stayed up to blow the Little Horse a goodnight kiss.