Author: Peter Podbrežnik
Artist: King Crimson
Label: Virgin Records
Released: 2000
Rating: 4.5/5
King Crimson, the original apostles of progressive rock and one of the most influential rock bands of all time, stepped into the new millennium as a quartet. After the excellent album “Thrak” (1995) and a pile of releases under the collective name ProjeKcts, on which they showed off their improvisational chops, the breakup of the so-called double trio, with its two bassists and two drummers in the rhythm section, was somehow expected and unavoidable. Keeping that many brilliant musicians together for much more than six years, which is how long they lasted, was already pushing the limits of what’s possible. The band was left by both veterans, who had been in the world’s top tier on their instruments for three decades. The brilliant bassist Tony Levin said (temporary) goodbye to the band because of his obligations as a permanent member of Peter Gabriel’s backing band, while drum grandmaster Bill Bruford decided he was done with rock music (at least for a while) and that his future musical activity lay exclusively in jazz. So the band’s steel-willed leader, guitarist Robert Fripp, and his longtime right-hand man, singer/guitarist Adrian Belew, decided to carry on with the help of two somewhat younger companions: Trey Gunn, a superb bassist and master of the Stick, and Pat Mastelotto, an inventive and wonderfully versatile drummer. By then the two of them were long past being newcomers, and counted among the most respected rhythm sections in prog rock. Funnily enough, with this change the ancient British band, apart from Uncle Bob, turned almost completely American. Luckily, all three of those American musicians were a long way from that typical, well-worn American mentality. By now Fripp considered Belew a completely equal partner, gave him even more room for writing music and throwing in ideas, and probably realized well enough that without his talents the band would have had a hard time making it to the new millennium.
If “Thrak” was first and foremost a proving ground for the many ideas piled up during the years of silence of the newly (re)born band, and was bursting with rhythmic variety, “The ConstruKction Of Light” came out as an album on which they took the next logical step toward modernizing their sound and once again cooked up some completely new sonic experiments. I have to mention that on release this album got quite a few totally unjustified negative reviews. They were aimed mostly at some of Adrian’s lyrics, which contain a few allusions to their past work, and at the reworking of the instrumental “Frakcture” from the album “Starless And Bible Black” (1974) into a completely new sonic shape under the name “FraKctured”. Accusing the band of looking back too much strikes me as totally off the mark, because it was never a case of copying themselves. Even for a band like King Crimson, who very rarely look over their shoulder, I think it’s sometimes useful to hand out a bit of symbolic respect to their glorious past every now and then.
Besides, this very ability to combine different musical elements, whether they come from classical, jazz, avant-garde or the popular rock of a given era, together with their elemental, recognizable-from-a-mile-away sound (mostly thanks to Fripp’s unmistakable guitar style), has been one of their greatest virtues from the start, and was essential to the modern definition of progressive rock too. On the other hand, others accused them of trying to sound too modern and win over a new generation of fans. That was just one more paradox of its own kind, and fresh proof of how contradictory the feelings are that every new release of theirs manages to stir up. These rumblings were completely off base, because this was once again a top-notch, highly intelligent and sonically rich product of the crimsonoid academy of progressive rock, which can never deny itself. Nor, again, the influence this album had on later trends within modern progressive rock and on the work of relatively popular bands like Porcupine Tree and The Mars Volta. “The ConstruKction Of Light” was a touch less punchy than its predecessor, but here too, especially in the second half, there’s a rather dark, you could even say post-apocalyptic mood, which is typical of the vast majority of their output.
As it should be, this album was a balanced mix of new and old. The band’s avant-garde side was represented as usual mostly through Adrian’s mostly “drunken” solos and use of guitar effects, Fripp’s single-string minimalism and “metal” riffs, plenty of fractured rhythmic transitions and a string of unusual improvisations. Meanwhile Fripp didn’t skimp on the generous use of soundscapes, which give individual compositions the needed dose of subtlety and keep their classical roots intact. Adrian’s lyrics were once again totally typical of his writing style, and it’s clear he went to school with Frank Zappa, among other things. Once again he set off to explore the attics of various enigmatic, neurotic characters with real or imagined mental disorders (and he had no trouble identifying with them, since ever since his days with Zappa his music has often brushed up against the thin line between genius and madness, in all its forms), all the way to the everyday social and political problems of the gray daily grind in which human existence finds itself these days. And he made sure to salt it all with just the right amount of humor, or social mockery, so that in the end it all didn’t come out too black and fatalistic.
The opening avant-garde adventure “ProzaKc Blues” already sketches, through grotesque lyrics, the daily life of a suicidal psychiatric patient whom doctors feed Prozac every day, that “medicine” for mental woes, and confirms that the lyrical emphasis of this album was above all the mosaic of the tangled human psyche (madness especially) and all the possibilities of a person’s (self-)control. Of course it’s no blues at all, if I leave out the deliberately boozy tone of Adrian’s vocal, but an energetic mix of avant-garde and heavy rock with a pinch of jazz fusion. A witty, repeating Adrian riff backs up his aforementioned grotesque, barely recognizable vocal, which sounds most like the slurring of some drunk addict and comes off pretty comical. Within the composition we get a few of Adrian’s trademark wacko solos while Fripp, in his typical minimalist way, dictates the guitar tempo and brings in his digital effects, the so-called frippertronics. The rhythm section is completely scattered and has quite a bit of jazzy minimalism, especially in Trey’s bass moves and, as usual, Pat’s wide array of percussion. In the lyrics you can also spot a witty allusion to one of their past classics (“Elephant Talk”).
Even though this was a superb and rather innovative opening to the album, it gets completely overshadowed in my eyes by the next one, the title track “The ConstruKction Of Light”, which is split into three inseparably linked parts. Here King Crimson show off their unbridled experimentalism on several different fronts and hit some wonderful results. The intro alternates ominous, characteristic Fripp riffs, the rattle of Trey’s bass and massive transitions on Pat’s drums, all laid over a vast curtain of soundscapes that ramp up the mysterious atmosphere. This peculiar, scattered avant-garde adventure lasts right up to the first transition, when a beautiful melodic section kicks in that slightly nods to their sound from the 80s, as the work of the two guitars trades off – while Fripp dictates the rhythm, Belew brings in plenty of witty, broken chords. The rhythmic trade-offs are once again a real feast for the ears. In the next section the recognizable (and finally clean) vocal comes in, where Adrian plays a peculiar game between a melodic lyrical part and a narrative way of listing various human feelings and perceptions. His lyrics here are among his most grotesque ever, and at one point they contain one of the weirdest lines I’ve ever come across: “And if Warhol Is a genius what am I, a speck of lint on the penis of an alien”. All I can do at that one is smirk. In my opinion, even the best composition on the album.
“Into The Frying Pan”, whose lyrics describe a person’s daily life and how they take in what’s happening in an emotionally plundered world, is a rather strange but very interesting and innovative experiment where you can pick up some influences from certain forms of modern rock, especially some alternative takes on metal, which are of course deftly poured into their recognizable style. Once again Adrian’s vocal is deliberately a bit distorted so that it sounds irritated and sleepy, like he got out of bed on the wrong side that morning or, even better, stepped into a pan of sizzling oil. Besides the many punchy, scattered riffs and crazy rhythmic twists, there are plenty of excellent guitar solos to admire, especially Adrian’s stretched-out pulls with a steel fingerpick, which are quickly joined by a rather pouty Fripp solo. There’s no shortage of electronic rhythm patterns either, which fit nicely into the sonic backdrops, plus a little bit of soundscapes at the end. I’d say it’s one of those Crimson compositions with which they usually point the way to new trends in experimental rock.
Next up is the aforementioned instrumental “FraKctured”, which has its roots in the ancient classic “Frakcture” from the album “Starless And Bible Black”. Despite the apparent similarity of some of the guitar arrangements, it differs noticeably from the original in quite a few ways. Besides the many effects in the background, Fripp’s fast-fingered moves sound a lot more refined, while the influence of the additional guitar is clearly noticeable. The whole mood is also a lot more melancholic. What reminds you most of the original is the burst of that wild, wound-up guitar riffing (here in two positions) and the devastating drum strokes. It’d be hard for me to pick which I like better, “Frakcture” or “FraKctured”. Maybe in the end I’d go for the original version because it has Bruford’s drums, but even its modern form remains one of the highlights of this album. An instrumental work of art that, in both forms, I’d recommend as a school lesson to every guitarist working in highly experimental music.
Some would call the extremely long and pompous title of the next highly avant-garde composition, “The World Is My Oyster Soup Kitchen Floor Vax Museum”, as well as its fiercely mocking, thoroughly wacky lyrics, an example of tasteless overkill, while prog rock connoisseurs, especially fans of the more avant-garde stuff, will simply enjoy its incredibly rich structure and instrumental spices this time around. Both in the lyrics and in the way he sings, you can hear the influence that both Zappa and David Bowie had on Adrian. In some spots Adrian even treats himself to a short, let’s call it, rap excursion. The rhythm section mostly revolves around funky notes this time. The many drawn-out, witty solos from both guitar masters are once again the main treat for the band’s longtime fans. This time the lyrics contain an allusion to the classic “Frame By Frame”. Here King Crimson once again showed up in one of their most avant-garde, modernist guises.
All the lovers of Crimson nostalgia surely got their money’s worth with the magnificent instrumental “Larks’ Tongues In Aspic-Part IV”, already the fourth installment of the mysterious instrumental saga of lark’s tongues in aspic, which began on the legendary album of the same name from 1973. The first two parts were on that one, while the third was on the album “Three Of A Perfect Pair” (1984). This time it’s chopped up into three inseparably linked parts. Funnily enough, the opening motif is once again somewhat similar to the one from the second part of the saga, but it very quickly turns into a completely distinctive composition with plenty of fiery rhythmic transitions, crazy guitar passages, guitar effects and unexpected time changes. In many sections improvisation comes to the fore too, which is simply something you can’t do without in King Crimson. Even though it’s an incredibly juicy treat and one of the two or three best pieces on the album, I wouldn’t want to live through a fifth installment of the saga in the future. That would already be a bit cheap.
After the dramatic, tremendously tense rhythmic build-up with loads of soundscapes comes the closer, straight away, called “Coda: I Have a Dream”, which sounds like a kind of lyrical tombstone for all the human follies of the day (plenty of which are still with us), from Middle Eastern wars, ecological disasters, racism and terrorist attacks to Kosovo, dictators, corruption, political assassinations and so on, and an appeal to the famous words of Martin Luther King, which sadly stayed nothing but a utopia. The combination of warring guitar passages, fiery rhythmic transitions and rich sonic waves creates an extremely melancholic atmosphere. When Adrian’s effect-treated, pain-soaked vocal joins in, everything is set for the final farewell and definitive burial of sick humanity (this always reminds me of their ancient classic “Epitaph”). The closing verse, which ends with Armstrong’s line about “one giant leap for mankind”, takes care of the necessary pinch of black humor.
So that it all doesn’t end on such a black and fatalistic note, there’s a hidden track, the excellent instrumental “Heaven And Earth”, which actually comes from the album of the same name that the band released under the name ProjeKct X (the latter consisting mostly of improvisations). With its superb mix of soundscapes, electronic patterns and improvisations, it makes sure the record ends on somewhat more relaxed notes than the official part of the album.
With its unorthodox nature, which you can’t fault for anything, neither for looking back too much nor for integrating too many modern musical elements, since both are in perfect balance, the first record of the legendary band in the new millennium visibly shocked longtime followers and plenty of critics alike when it came out, as I said, and the result was a flood of wildly different reactions. Even though it’s not among my favorite Crimson albums and I come back to it less often than it perhaps deserves, every listen still hits me in a positive way, hearing how far they got in integrating their recognizable style with some of the avant-garde elements of the day. In my opinion “The ConstruKction Of Light” is an album fit for all generations of prog rock enthusiasts and one more excellent product from a legendary band that stays true to its progressive mission forever. “Is man capable of developing the construction of light, if a bird that was once a dinosaur can talk and a dog is capable of dreaming?” Adrian asks in the lyrics of the title track. A cat’s cough, if it happens to be listening to King Crimson meanwhile.
Lineup
Adrian Belew – vocals, guitar
Robert Fripp – guitar
Trey Gunn – bass guitar, baritone guitar
Pat Mastelotto – drums
Production
King Crimson
Track list
1. ProzaKc blues (5:29)
2. The construKction of light (8:39)
3. Into the frying pan (6:54)
4. FraKctured (9:06)
5. The world’s my oyster soup kitchen floor wax museum (6:22)
6. Larks’ tongues in aspic part IV parts 1-2-3 (6:37)
7. Coda: I have a dream (3:56)
8. ProjeKct X: Heaven and Earth (bonus track) (7:46)
Album length: 57:21
