Author: Peter Podbrežnik
Artist: King Crimson
Label: Discipline Global Mobile
Release: 1984
Rating: 5/5
Through the rather grueling 80s for prog rock, King Crimson were the only band from that elite of the genre’s most important groups that actually kept making innovative, rhythmically demanding and varied music that burst past the boundaries of genre. Robert Fripp, the lead guitarist and chieftain of the band (also known as a very effective dictator), had always been a sworn nonconformist, someone who used current musical trends purely as building blocks for his wildly diverse musical ideas, and not as a tool for changing the band’s sound in the hope of a bigger commercial hit. Just like on the two previous albums, “Discipline” (1981) and “Beat” (1982), King Crimson once again latched onto an incredibly varied mix of new wave, ethnic music and avant-garde rock. With their traditional calculation, of course, that this album would bring something new compared to its predecessors. Still, when “Three Of A Perfect Pair” came out (the title probably refers to the completed trilogy of their 80s albums), many fans of the band started to wonder whether a band that, in its history, couldn’t have dodged commercialization of its sound any harder had finally caved to the demands of the market after all, since quite a few tracks on it contain more pop elements than anything in their history. Even “Beat” had quite a few motifs that were uncharacteristic for the band, borrowed from pop/new wave, but they showed up in the right places and in the right amounts, so there was never any danger or fear that Uncle Bob might accidentally catch the scent of money and sacrifice the band’s recognizable sound, or soul, for it. And of course it was no different on this album.
As already mentioned, they again used a completely new approach, and it couldn’t have turned out more cunning. They split the album into two stylistically totally different halves. While the first half has commercially more accessible, melody-driven songs (among them some of the most accessible stuff of their entire career, proof that they could have easily written radio hits too, had they wanted to), the second half is dominated by pretty avant-garde creations with extensive use of Fripp’s soundscapes (or frippertronics, if you like) and loads of jazzy improvisation. You’ll have a hard time finding as much avant-garde material on any other of their albums as in the second half of this one. At the same time, you’ll have a hard time finding an album of theirs that, thanks to its first half, is more accessible to a wider audience. That makes “Three Of a Perfect Pair” a peculiar paradox, and maybe that’s exactly its main charm, the reason I come back to it more often than to most albums that came out at the time (prog rock bands included).
Uncle Bob could once again lean on a dream team of rock-solid players: Adrian Belew with his more or less paranoid vocals (the resemblance to David Byrne is barely noticeable this time around) and guitar antics straight out of good old Frank Zappa’s crazy school, plus the wickedly effective and sprawling rhythm section of Tony Levin on Stick/bass guitar and Bill Bruford, the king of electronic drums. Once again, the real treat, worthy of all admiration, is the incredible contrast between the two guitarists’ contributions (“calm” Fripp with his recognizable melodic lines and soundscapes, and “unleashed” Belew with his many avant-garde sounds, which include hanging off the tremolo bar and using a guitar slide). Levin once again fully justified his status as the most in-demand bassist far and wide, regardless of musical genre, and his Stick work and use of slide sticks are breathtaking. Jazzer Bruford let loose more than ever on electronic drums and percussion, and some of his parts on this album are among the best of his time with the band.
The title track “Three Of A Perfect Pair” has become a beloved Crimson classic over the years. The reasons are mainly the extensive rhythmic shifts and Belew’s excellent vocal performance (full credit to Levin’s backing vocals too). The main guitar riff sounds incredibly minimalistic, while the rhythmic transitions are seasoned with plenty of jazz this time. The wacko Belew naturally treats himself to an avant-garde solo in the middle, one that easily rips your pants off with its sheer craziness. The lyrics, like most of Adrian’s work from that period, are quite personal and play with the limits of the human psyche (schizophrenia, in this case), which his paranoid vocals of course blend into perfectly. “Model Man”, introduced by one of the most original, melodic and refined rhythmic foundations on the album, contains some touches of new wave. The chorus is unusually romantic, while the melodic, funk-flavored rhythm line is grooved to the extreme. By the standards of a band like King Crimson, I’d even say it’s a pop creation. But that’s nothing compared to what the romantic new wave snack “Sleepless” has to offer, the single and at the same time their biggest and only hit, for which they also shot their one and only video. To make the measure of controversy complete, the song even got played in the discos of the day, which is surely one of the most controversial stories in the band’s history, a band that surely took sweet pleasure in baffling its old fans with a pop hit and rattling some of the critics of the time, who had written them off as “outlived dinosaurs”. Despite being the most commercial piece in their history, “Sleepless” is a great song that only confirms their incredible eclecticism and freedom from genre limits. The intro with its heavily grooved bass and electronic drums is followed by an ambient layer of Levin’s synthesizer (a rare case of him using one on a band record) and a minimalistic guitar motif. When Adrian’s romantic, dreamy vocals drop in, the dose of new wave romance, backed by disco funk, is perfect. The ambient part feels like waking up from a dream in the middle of some 80s disco. Belew’s arpeggios are incredibly effective, while the rhythm line is a true gourmet treat, and together with the soundscapes it forms their best “pop” work of their career. “Man With An Open Heart” (hm, where have I heard a similar title for some very famous song before) is another very interesting new wave/pop experiment with a funky rhythm, and it marks the melodic peak of the album (another failed would-be hit). Despite all that melodicism, the rhythmic transitions are incredibly unpredictable. The many witty sonic ornaments on the guitar never stop impressing either.
From here on the album veers into far more avant-garde and complex waters, usually less accessible to a wider audience, though that’s exactly where the band’s experimental nature shines brightest. On the ambient “Nuages (That Which Passes, Passes Like Clouds)”, Fripp surrenders to a bunch of fragile soundscapes, keeping sonic company with oriental percussion and plenty of improvisation on guitar and Stick. As with most of Fripp’s soundscapes, this is music that isn’t worth listening to with just your ears. The avant-garde apocalyptic instrumental “Industry” is the spitting image of that Crimsonoid obscurity some people may have missed in the first half of the album. Well, this time they can give themselves over to the downright murderous, steady pounding of drums in the first part, mystical soundscapes and snarling, almost menacing guitar improvisations that conjure the atmosphere of a city bathing in smog under chimneys piercing the sky of a gray everyday. The very interesting “Dig Me” is a truly refreshing treat that brings a breeze of romance and melody into the rather obscure and gloomy second half of the album. The first part sounds quite robotic, thanks to a guitar effect and vocals chromed through an effect. The central chorus is incredibly thrilling, melodic and sounds quite Beatles-y, or McCartney-esque, which adds considerable contrast to the otherwise quite avant-garde structure of the song (lots of wacky guitar sounds). Through a metaphor about a car waiting to be hauled off to the scrapyard, the lyrics speak of longing for a fresh start. The improvisation “No Warning” is, in my opinion, the least interesting piece on the album. The band has proven itself in the past with plenty of interesting improvisations, but this time, apart from the great drum dynamics (a good Bruford solo) and avant-garde guitar effects, they offer a fairly average demonstration of some ideas born on the spot. All the greater is the joy brought by the excellent instrumental “Larks’s Tongues in Aspic – Part III”, with which they continued the saga of “lark’s tongues in aspic” right where they left off on the legendary “Larks’ Tongues In Aspic” (1973). The third part doesn’t lag far behind its two incredible predecessors. The main motif is quite similar to the one from “number two”. After Fripp’s arpeggios riddle us in the intro, a veritable Crimsonoid instrumental madhouse follows, with unpredictable rhythmic shifts and some freaky guitar solos. I’d especially single out Levin’s Stick work, which pierces right through the jazzy line of the drums. The first two parts were of course better, but the third is no slouch either, and years later a fourth followed. Definitely one of the highlights and an excellent closer for the album.
Unlike most of their reissues, this reissue of the album brings quite a few bonus tracks. To tell the truth, none of them is overly exciting, but they’re certainly a nice gift for any true fan of the band. “The King Crimson Barber Shop”, based on Levin’s vocal choirs, which he also loved to indulge in with Peter Gabriel and on his solo career, shows through its goofy choral performance that black humor is not the least bit foreign to them, since in a jokey way they lay out the fundamental policy of this incarnation of the band (no photography, no “21st Century Schizoid Man” classic on the live setlist, and so on). “Industrial Zone A” and “Industrial Zone B” are two interconnected avant-garde instrumentals built on Fripp’s scattered electronic sounds, soundscapes and rhythmic improvisations. I can say they’re nothing special and sometimes even sound a little irritating. I like improvisations that manage to create a strong atmosphere, whereas these two I could at best label as some kind of grotesque space rock. Finally, there are three versions of the disco hit “Sleepless” in different production forms. The first version was produced by Tony Levin, while the other two were produced by Bob Clearmountain and F. Kevorkian (the latter of the three sounds the most “disco”).
“Three Of a Perfect Pair” successfully rounds off the creative opus of the 80s incarnation of King Crimson. It’s an album that successfully and to the extreme (“Sleepless” – “Industry”) shows both sonic faces of this lineup, which proved to be the most stable in their history. With “Three Of a Perfect Pair”, King Crimson once again delivered one of their most thrilling and unusual products, even if it doesn’t reach the level of musical perfection achieved by the incredible “Discipline”, which shaped the central sound of this lineup. After a whiff of possible commercial success appeared following the album’s release, Uncle Bob, in his good old polished fashion, preferred to tear the band apart for years so he could devote himself to his solo career and his school for gifted guitarists. The other members likewise dedicated themselves to their own projects. The band’s forced hibernation lasted a whole ten years, until the mid-90s, when they made a triumphant return in what, according to most, was even the strongest lineup in their history (especially when it comes to the rhythm section).
Lineup
Adrian Belew – vocals, guitar
Robert Fripp – guitar, soundscapes
Tony Levin – Stick, bass guitar, synthesizer, backing vocals
Bill Bruford – acoustic and electronic drums
Production
King Crimson
Tracklist
1. Three of a perfect pair (4:11)
2. Model man (3:56)
3. Sleepless (5:20)
4. Man with an open heart (3:00)
5. Nuages (that which passes, passes like clouds) (4:42)
6. Industry (7:22)
7. Dig me (2:59)
8. No warning (3:28)
9. Larks’ tongues in aspic part III (6:01)
Album length: 40:59
Bonus tracks on the 30th anniversary reissue:
10. The King Crimson Barber Shop (1:37)
11. Industrial Zone A (1:44)
12. Industrial Zone B (4:33)
13. Sleepless (Tony Levin Mix) (7:26)
14. Sleepless (Bob Clearmountain Mix) (5:24)
15. Sleepless (Dance Mix – F. Kevorkian) (6:17)
