June 16, 2001
Written by Robert Fripp
My Wife is in Manchester, my Sister in Nashville. I shall see my Sister this evening. And the sun is shining.
Patricia flew in yesterday afternoon to be official KC Merchandiser at 12th. & Porter, and is planning to be the support act tonight.
The show: Clams Crimsonique was the only dish of the evening. Even Pat discovered places he had never thought of going before. I realised, yet again, that FraKctured has no available margins to accommodate error. My whammy bar (or in English, tremelo arm) was sticking in a novel position, a position which managed to upset the right hand on several occasions. A generous audience hooted generously as we de-railed on that, and on many other occasions. Also available: a selection of three different first-of-the-bars in 11/8 for around 2 minutes on "Response To Stimuli".
The heat was less tormentatious than on Thursday, but the guitarists still spent the evening chasing tunings as they flew about, regardless of string locks and modern tuning pegs.
Good humour abounded, on stage and in the audience - apart from one audient, who (according to Sister) was really bugged (an Americanism learnt from T. Baldy Levin, our Fifth Man) that we weren't playing ITCOTCK material. It's true: a well kept secret for at least two decades is now out of the bag - King Crimson doesn't play ITCOTCK material.
I drove Patricia back to her hotel before return to Chateau Belewbeloid. A specially trained mosquito was waiting in The Basement to feed upon the neck of an innocent guitarist, which it did & then flew around slowly, gorged on Fripp blood. Hernan Nunez would have spent all night seeking it out for retribution, but Crimson members are nothing compared to the aroused ire of the Gaucho Kingpin.
Today, e-flurrying and beginning packing for Monday's flight home to the accompaniment of Tool's Aenima.
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