This is as close as this chronically interesting group has ever come to a good album, or maybe it's as close as Robert Fripp has ever come to dominating this chronically interesting group. As usual, things improve markedly when nobody's singing. The lyrics are relatively sharp, but there must be better ways of proving you're not a wimp than casting invective at a "health-food faggot." Unless you are a wimp, that is. B -- R. ChristgauJust as they were about to be classed among the living relics, Robert Fripp and friends have returned from a lengthy creative hiatus with an inventive new album. They've taken the disjointed pieces of Larks' Tongues in Aspic, infused them with some life, and woven them into a package as stunningly powerful as In the Court of the Crimson King, the LP that launched "mellotron rock."
Crimson displays a certain confidence here that hasn't before graced its efforts. William Bruford's multifaceted percussive offerings are particularly impressive in this light -- he's finally mastered his distinctively eclectic style. David Cross's violin and viola are woven into the Crimson tapestry far more effectively than before, adding the counter-soloist that Fripp needed to give variety to the band's sound.
The material relies on instrumental interaction, with Crimson now intent on exploring some of the frontiers charted by Yes. "The Great Deceiver" rocks out almost as maniacally as did "21st Century Schizoid Man," showing that where Yes would marvel at the world, Crimson prefers to grab it by the balls. But with "Trio" Crimson demonstrates that it's capable of maintaining the balace between aggression and introspection, using the juxtaposition of viola and mellotron-flute tape to evoke a hauntingly blissful serenity.
The two lengthy instrumental passages that comprise Side Two of Starless and Bible Black show Crimson at its best, relaxing into lengthy improvisational patterns that spotlight the virtuosity of each member. The ease with which these moves are carried off indicates that Fripp has finally assembled the band of his dreams -- hopefully it'll stay together long enough to continue producing albums as excellent as this one. -- Gordon Fletcher, RS
Bob Fripp and his band know more ways to be intelligent, dead serious, and fairly boring than anybody I know save for the Master of Musical Monotony himself, John McLaughlin. David Cross may well be the outstanding member of this group as he's the least competent on his instrument (violin), but all the others play their instruments with a same degree of technical proficiency. "The Great Deceiver" is the best and most interesting track on the album; in fact it may be the only listenable song produced by this King Crimson to date, but one good apple don't spoil the whole bunch. -- Jon Tiven, Circus Rave
The majority of the record was based on live improvisational recordings from a concert recorded the previous fall in Amsterdam. It's no wonder, as Crimson spent the better part of March through November 1973 on the road with only a few weeks in the summer to rest. The first side contains shorter snippets, as well as a few (more or less) songs. Both "The Great Deceiver" and "We'll Let You Know" rely on fury to get their point across (which they do), while the gentler "The Night Watch" is simply resplendent. ...Again, the key is the rhythm section of John Wetton and Bill Bruford; as Fripp would later comment, they were "terrible to play over." Indeed. With only twelve minutes of studio recordings, the album is a little short on new material, but taken as a live record it's another matter.-- C. Snider, The Strawberry Bricks Guide To Progressive Rock
Fripp and the boys were busy in 1974, later in the year came the storming Red album, but before that came this offering. King Crimson are usually lumped in with the lumbering prog-rock likes of Yes and ELP, but while they share a certain number of starting points (and band members), since their debut in 1969, they have always been that bit more closer to the edge (as well as that more technically proficient!). This can still be seen to this day with recent offerings such as Thrak and The ConstruKction Of Light, both being contemporary masterpieces.
Starless... opens in fine speedridin' form with 'The Great Deceiver', which begins at full pace, slows briefly for a short Zepp-esque riff, then grinds down to a few staccato bass notes for the first verse. As usual with Crimson there are many rhythm, riff and tempo changes. Blistering. 'Lament' begins as a vocal-led ballad, but then unexpectedly dissolves and rebuilds into a freaked-out funk monster of a song - John Wetton's vocals ranging from soulful to fiery.
'We'll Let You Know' takes the form of a studio jam, and is about as loose and bluesy as Crimson get. Bill Bruford's syncopated percussion linking the free wheeling bass and guitar. 'The Night Watch' opens with a wall of cymbals and chorused guitars, to give an almost oriental feel - David Cross' violin picking up on this, while Wetton shares the story of what appears to be an old painting. Fripp, meanwhile, paints his own picture with some beautifully intricate harmonics.
'Trio' is almost complete silence for a whole minute, eventually Cross' violin emerging, accompanied by some gentle bass-stroking from Wetton - before Fripp joins in with his best viola impersonation. Eerie, again quite oriental, and very soothing. 5 minutes 41 seconds just isn't enough - I put this track on repeat play during moments of quiet contemplation. 'The Mincer' is the strangest track on offer, and possesses some excellent unexpected, 'catch you by surprise', snare work from Bruford. The title track begins with some quiet feedback and Bruford beating some kind of heart beat. Tambourines join in, the whole thing builds. The song title is beautifully evoked through the 9-minute soundscape. Challenging, but never unlistenable, the whole thing turns more jazzy toward the end once Wetton and Bruford fall into step.
The closing track 'Fracture', strangely enough sees a return to the more structured Frippery and bizarre chord progressions. The fingerwork is quite mind boggling at times - and a lot of people criticize Fripp for his 'over-complication', but you'll usually find that's just jealous guitarists! - but huge funky islands appear all over the place, and the whole thing rides out on a high.
One of King Crimson's best albums, certainly one of their funkiest, from arguably their strongest line-up. A classic which I heartily recommend - especially as an accompaniment to its sister album, Red (which is reviewed elsewhere here by Squid Tempest). -- fwump bungle, Head Heritage
review
[-] by Bruce EderStarless and Bible Black is even more powerful and daring than its predecessor, Larks' Tongues in Aspic, with jarring tempo shifts, explosive guitar riffs, and soaring, elegant, and delicate violin and Mellotron parts scattered throughout its 41 minutes, often all in the same songs. The album was on the outer fringes of accessible progressive rock, with enough musical ideas explored to make Starless and Bible Black more than background for tripping the way Emerson, Lake & Palmer's albums were used. "The Night Watch," a song about a Rembrandt painting, was, incredibly, a single release, although it was much more representative of the sound that Crimson was abandoning than where it was going in 1973-1974. More to that point were the contents of side two of the original LP, a pair of instrumentals that threw the group's hardest sounds right in the face of the listener, and gained some converts in the process. [Starless and Bible Black was remastered again for CD in the summer of 2000, in significantly improved sound that brought out the details (and surprising lyricism) of much of the material in far greater detail. The booklet included with the remastered version is not as impressive as some of the rest of the series entries in terms of information, but has great photos.]
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 27 March 2013 17:00 (eleven years ago) link