King Crimson: Thrak : Music Reviews : Rolling Stone

Album Reviews

The last incarnation of art-rock pioneers King Crimson made for a rare union of power and precision, crafting three early-'80s albums – Discipline, Beat and Three of a Perfect Pair – that were Promethean feats in a dreary time. With Thrak, King Crimson have re-emerged from the interregnum with their passionate virtuosity grayed but not gone.

The new-model King Crimson assume an expanded format: Spiritual leader and guitarist Robert Fripp and singer-guitarist Adrian Belew are joined by their past associates, bassist Tony Levin and drummer Bill Bruford, along with new members Trey Gunn on stick and Pat Mastellotto on percussion. Fueled by crashing rhythms and high-octane riffs, Thrak's opening instrumental, "Vrooom," is a mix of melody and mayhem that proves these veterans can keep pace with young noisemakers when it comes to well-wrought sonic violence.

A future Crimson manifesto can be gleaned from the barbed hooks and ominous textures of the album's third track, "Dinosaur." On the bridge, Belew preempts questions of continued relevance with a self-deprecating exposition on the fate of the aging but still evolving art rocker: "It's a wonder I'm not yet extinct.... Still, I've made my fossil bed, and I toss and turn." That said, King Crimson bound stylistic borders as few bands can, veering into an interlude of ambient symphonics before a searing Fripp guitar solo pins you to the wall.

Throughout Thrak, Fripp's frozen rope leads and the band's intricate din are as potent as ever. But for the most part, Belew trades his Discipline-era notes-from-underground lyrical style for clever pop-song haiku. The lilting love paean "Walking on Air" and the pedestrian observations of "People" seem dispensable next to the industrial fusion of "Vrooom" or soundtracks for the concrete jungle like the onomatopoeic title cut.

The potential of King Crimson's renewal is most fully realized with the grinding close of "Vrooom Vrooom" and its coda, in which the band twists the themes of the opening piece into so much bent metal. It's the artful abandon of these final moments that bode best for the longevity of this egghead-banging outfit.