The second of three nights opens with a powerful and atmospheric entry of the Crims that recalls something of the mutant jazz vibe emanating from Neurotica. Frustratingly short, there are further abstract explorations to be found in the middle of THRAK however.
Akin to a chaotic exploration of a junkyard, filled with tumbling pianos spilling their innards, grinding metal, and impressionistic crescents of fiery sparks, it also contains the opening sections of B’boom before it collides back into the main theme with all the pent-up force of an angry beast finally released from its tether.
“Thank you very much for another beautiful evening in LA,” comments Belew in the aftermath of that all-out sonic attack, “We appreciate it,” he says before the band slip into the sinuous slow-burn set-closer, Walking On Air. The contrast between these seemingly irreconcilable and opposing aspects of Crimson’s nature is of course what makes the band so interesting. Contemporary reviews of the band’s new album of the time often grappled with this notion, in a process of chewing over such content-rich material that continued in the years which followed.
In a retrospective review of THRAK in 2009, The Wire observed that the record was “most convincing when showcasing the double trio’s instrumental chemistry rather than accompanying Belew’s often pat lyricism. . .although it should be noted that Walking On Air and Dinosaur are two of Crimson’s smartest and most likeable nuggets of avant pop.” Hearing the Double Trio in concert is arguably the only way in which it all makes sense.
Akin to a chaotic exploration of a junkyard, filled with tumbling pianos spilling their innards, grinding metal, and impressionistic crescents of fiery sparks, it also contains the opening sections of B’boom before it collides back into the main theme with all the pent-up force of an angry beast finally released from its tether.
“Thank you very much for another beautiful evening in LA,” comments Belew in the aftermath of that all-out sonic attack, “We appreciate it,” he says before the band slip into the sinuous slow-burn set-closer, Walking On Air. The contrast between these seemingly irreconcilable and opposing aspects of Crimson’s nature is of course what makes the band so interesting. Contemporary reviews of the band’s new album of the time often grappled with this notion, in a process of chewing over such content-rich material that continued in the years which followed.
In a retrospective review of THRAK in 2009, The Wire observed that the record was “most convincing when showcasing the double trio’s instrumental chemistry rather than accompanying Belew’s often pat lyricism. . .although it should be noted that Walking On Air and Dinosaur are two of Crimson’s smartest and most likeable nuggets of avant pop.” Hearing the Double Trio in concert is arguably the only way in which it all makes sense.
