Author: Aleš Podbrežnik
Location: Ljubljana / Hala Tivoli / Slovenia
Concert date: 08.07.2004
Attendance: 5000
All black along Celovška, a metal holiday? Not quite, it’s just that their black always stands out so furiously against the gray. But enough of that! It was 8:30 PM and we barely managed to park. The lot was full of hominids, including ones with Croatian and Italian passports. People were swarming in front of the hall like an anthill. That made the hall’s gullet a lot harder to swallow them than usual. And folks kept streaming in from every direction toward the entrance points. Wild. Merchandise? A poster signed by the G3 members for a measly eight grand. Pocket change, right?
9:15 PM, Fripp on stage. Robert Fripp, a legend. A bar stool, a Gibson LP and his magic chest, which he himself describes as “guitar devices”. The crowd, of course, stomped loudly with excitement and enthusiasm. The floor was packed, so I couldn’t get any closer to Fripp than 10 meters. Naturally, most of the crammed-in crowd was expecting guitar shredding. And for the first 10 minutes they listened attentively, thinking it was just a long intro. But that intro kept dragging on and on, and after 15 minutes the first whistles rang out. “Lovely and fantastic!” I thought. “Why didn’t these folks just wait outside the hall if they can’t handle Fripp’s music?!?!” But the crowd kept fidgeting nervously and whistling, and a few demonstratively abandoned their spots in the front rows. Poor Fripp, for his part, didn’t let it get to him, even though that’s a seriously distracting factor for an artist (read his diary on Discipline Global Mobile for what he thinks of audience reactions on the G3 tour). Fripp comes across as almost arrogant, since he didn’t actually greet the audience when he left, and he seemed ice-cold during the set too. And what did he offer? For people who know his music, a dream come true. There were obviously few of us, we were an endangered species, and the crowd’s grumbling robbed us of the pleasure of his esoteric intergalactic sounds and the magical atmosphere he was creating. Soundscapes, as he calls the music he’s presenting on this G3 tour, are made up of many sounds. I wouldn’t bet my hand that the Soundscapes are different every night and that it’s all music of the artist’s momentary inspiration, which is why Fripp doesn’t repeat it in the same tonality even two shows in a row. Fripp, of course, shrewdly uses delay effects and combines sounds by layering them, palette on palette, one on top of another, and not exactly ordinary sounds at that. That’s how he gets the majestic, full sound of an orchestra. So that uniqueness, what we heard, only Robert Fripp can repeat. Fripp as a musical genius. Fripp offered contact with the beyond, took us past infinity, past the visible horizon. The music was transcendental, music of astral images. Music of exceptional beauty. There was extraordinary peace and serenity in it, music of inner harmony between body and spirit. Music without templates, without frames, music that knows neither time nor space, music that radiates eternity, flawlessness, a certain primal naivety, and at the same time extreme tenderness, fragility, grace,…in a word, the purest language of the soul.
So that I wouldn’t drift off too far into the fields of the fourth dimension either, the ungrateful crowd took care of it by whistling Fripp off and reminding me with their presence of the existence of the material world, where the culture of money reigns and which we’re all slaves to. Anyway, Fripp left the stage after half an hour, which the crowd greeted with a roar, and just half a minute after Fripp shuffled off backstage, Steve Vai jumped onto the stage. Like his predecessor, Vai was alone on stage and sat down on a stool for the first track too, which scared the audience to the bone, since they thought Vai had caught Fripp’s syndrome. A guitar with a triple neck and the track I Know You Are Here, which Vai wrote for his upcoming new studio album. Next came Giant Balls Of Gold, and suddenly Vai found himself in the company of the incredible guitarist Tony MacAlpine, whom many in the hall would rather have seen in G3 instead of Fripp, and one of the best bassists right now, Billy Sheehan (?). Hm, Billy cheats on speed, since he’s hooked up to two outputs, so when he hits one note it sounds like two, and people roll their eyes at this “apparent” speed. Meanwhile, when Steve Vai introduced him with “Who’s the best bass player in the world?!!?” everyone naturally shouted in unison, “Billy Sheehan!”, but lo and behold, from somewhere the voice of a lone “saboteur” crept up to the sky: “Tony Levin!!!” Then they hit the gas with Answers from the legendary “Passion And Warfare” (1990), and Vai couldn’t help but sing something too (The Reaper, “The Elusive Light And Sound, Vol. 1.”, 2001). Vai’s vocals are decent, decent for a guitarist in general, and they fit his compositions tastefully, and live was no different. Given the slightly lukewarm atmosphere during that track, Vai then pushed the pedal down harder with Juice (“Alien Love Secrets”, 1995) and carried on with the phenomenal, calmer piece Whispering A Prayer (“Alive in An Ultra World”), which created an extraordinary mood and which he opened by first kissing his pinky and then touching the first note of the track. And there were plenty of these tricks and contortions of his body and guitar in all possible and impossible poses throughout the show. Vai was especially immersed here, playing the track in a trance, twisting, swirling, weaving with his fingers. It’s unbelievable what kind of play Vai is capable of. And I can never quite “figure him out”. Is he endlessly fake-polished, or endlessly spontaneous? In my view one outweighs the other depending on the situation, but with Vai both are pushed to extremes, so at his live performance all I can do is stand there gawking with my jaw on the floor. The mood kept building with Bangkok and Bullwhip from the fantastic “Fire Garden” (1996) and then one more track from “The Elusive Light And Sound, Vol. 1.”, called Get The Hell Out Of Here. Of course, Steve conjured up the peak at the end with the song For The Love Of God (“Passion And Warfare”), surely one of the most beautiful compositions he’s ever written, and the crowd was visibly thrilled during its performance. It was around ten o’clock and Steve winked off the stage. A longer break followed. People caught their breath after the shocking opening experience with Robert Fripp. Vai is out there, since the “little italian virtuoso” once hung out with Frank Zappa, and Adrian Belew, a permanent member of King Crimson since 1981, played with Zappa back in the day too. Now if we add that the boss of King Crimson is none other than Robert Fripp, the darling of the Hala Tivoli audience #1, we can conclude that Vai and Fripp would have given the crowd an interesting joint record, had they decided to collaborate.
First, Robert Fripp appeared on stage for three minutes, scaring the audience to the bone once again, which turned out a little later to be an innocent move, since Fripp only played the intro. The intro for yet another star of the night, Joe Satriani. Satriani opened the show with Hands In The Air and then continued with Satch Boggie. The crowd went wild. The audience was at its most rowdy during Satriani’s set. Satriani is nice and well-behaved, schooled down to the finest detail, a doctor of every possible musical doctorate, and it was a real pleasure to watch him dutifully and correctly follow every school rule in the book. Your breath caught during his hanging on the tremolo bar and the supersonic flashes of clean, extremely fast scale runs along the neck. Vai, mind you, is Satriani’s upgrade. He brought playfulness and a great deal of spontaneity into the schooled basics, leaving plenty of room for expressing his own musical genius, and even today Vai keeps developing as an artist, his music growing and with it his unique language. So Vai knows how to pleasantly surprise with every new record. With Satriani it’s hard to say he’s so out there that he ever slips the reins of rationality, that he ever sails off into his hidden world. He’s constantly on the ball, in his head. That’s why the measure of originality is smallest with him, too. Even his latest studio records have ended up as alike as two peas in a pod. But it’s an indisputable fact that Satriani threw the biggest party at the show. Simply because the songs are built more simply, they have a head and a tail. They have well-crafted main motifs and are tastefully seasoned and drizzled with solos and sonic transitional ornaments. And so people could identify with them most easily. Likewise, the musicians surrounding Joe on stage offered simpler, more “linear” rock lines, in places even built on rhythm and blues. The drummer had deeper toms in the set, the drums crashed fuller, livelier, more real for this world and calmer compared to Vai’s predecessor, who with his wildness wanted to fly right into the crowd. Satriani also played Cool #9, Gnaahh, I like The Rain, Up in Flames, Always With Me, Always With You (where the crowd helped sing the melody at the start of the solo), Searching and when they got to the track Is There Love In Space, the Crimso Frippoman joined Satriani on stage again until the end of the show. He wove a brilliant curtain of sound that covered the band on stage and created an atmospheric backdrop. The sound of Steve Vai and Satriani was fantastic. But watch out! You had to stand 10 meters or more from the stage, and in the middle at that, because the ideal sound was once again at the mixing desk. People in the front rows were once again cheated, and in general the bass was once again punching through the sound picture. I don’t know how it was in the stands, but a buddy who stood at the start of the arena floor during Vai’s performance, where they were selling the T-shirts, was just as appalled by the sound. Well, the hockey arena is sneaky. You couldn’t hear Fripp during Satriani’s set even at the spot where I was bragging that the sound was excellent. But I moved just a little more to the left and immediately heard the magical “frippertronics” clearly. A unique sound, truly, and goosebumps were not spared. Satriani “played” the track War and for the finale Flying In A Blue Dream. Madhouse. Compact, precise, tight, pure perfectionism. Satriani offered the best sound of the holy trinity. And stylistically, too, he was the one who went down best “live”. Maybe he could ditch the constant staring through sunglasses during the show and get closer to the people, but that’s a side wish and already too “nitpicky”.
The jam was really the “bis”, the encore (in English, encore). They kicked it off with Satriani’s repertoire, namely Ice Nine, and carried on with the treat of the night. It was Red by the magnificent King Crimson (“Red”, 1974). And of course in yet another new improvised version. It opened (and closed, wrapped up) with the main motif of In The Court Of The Crimson King, which numerous metalheads in the hall recognized too, naturally those who know the cover of that King Crimson track by Saxon. Every member of G3 offered a solo of their own (Vai and Satriani even a few giant ones), while I nervously waited for Fripp. Fripp used a sound in his solo spot that leaned slightly toward that “elephant” frippertronic on the King Crimson track Elephant Talk (“Discipline” 1981). Ahhh, what I wouldn’t give to swap those on stage for the King Crimson lineup right at that moment. I’m absolutely thirsty for a King Crimson concert, and the thought of the “official bootleg” Live At Berkeley from 1982 that my brother had just picked up the other day totally wound me up.
Well, my delirious wish wasn’t granted and what followed was The Murderer, a Steve Vai song, of course a song from a completely different batch, a leap in mood to a new level, and the song fit tastefully into the jam’s set list. And finally, a cover of Neil Young’s Rockin’ In The Free World, with Joe on vocals. His singing is dreadful, but in this track, given how awful his singing is in his regular stuff, it actually came off rather well. Joe’s vocal suits this track because the song is rebellious, and in it Joe sounds like a 15-year-old adolescent. Rockin’ In A Free World was stuffed with a million solos and transitional ornaments, and at one point even Robert Fripp wasn’t left out of it. During the jam, Satriani’s band was on stage. Joe and Vai rode their guitars the whole time, side by side, while Frippo with his miracle chest happily enjoyed the peace on the other side of the stage. If anyone doesn’t know Fripp and thinks soloing doesn’t come easy to him, they should try the supersonic “hammering” motif in the King Crimson track Frame By Frame.
Four hours!!! Insane! Truly unforgettable. This year is the year of nothing but guitarists. Pat Metheny, Paco De Lucia, then Satriani, Vai, Steve Morse (Deep Purple) and the legendary giant Fripp, and if I add one more magnificent guy, Steve Howe of Yes in Munich this year, for me it’s a year of pure guitar bliss. Let’s hope the 5000-strong crowd gave the organizers the push to find the courage and soon conjure up dreams like this one here at home, like the ones we got with the G3 show. I think I’ve rambled on enough. Hey, after the show we went to my place and over coffee, beer, new Fripp/Eno record and snacks, we philosophized until 3:30 in the morning. We successfully pooled our fresh impressions and bleated together in unison that we’re heading out to Jethro Tull in Graz on 04.08.2004.
Setlist
Robert Fripp:
1. “Soundscapes” (30min.)
Steve Vai:
1. I Know You Are Here
2. Ginat Balls Of Gold
3. Answers
4. Reaper
5. Juice
6. Whispering A Prayer
7. Bangkok
8. Bullwhip
9. Get The Hell Out Of Here
10. For The Love Of God
Joe Satriani:
1. Hands In The Air
2. Satch’s Boogie
3. Cool # 9
4. Gnaahh
5. I Like The Rain
6. Up In Flams
7. Always With Me, Always With You
8. Searching
9. Is There Love In Space
10. War
11. Flying In A Blue Dream
G3 Jamming:
1. Ice 9
2. Red (incl. In The Court Of The Crimson King)
3. The Murder 4. Rockin’ In The Free World
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