Epitaph, Vols. 1-2 : King Crimson : Review : Rolling Stone

The problem with "art rock" as a descriptive phrase and a body of music is one of emphasis – whether the accent falls on art or rock. King Crimson aspired to both, in equal measure. The mad guitar/sax shriek of "21st Century Schizoid Man" on the group's 1969 debut album, In the Court of the Crimson King, still sounds as bold and ornery as anything in the early Nine Inch Nails and Metallica catalogs. And the three live readings of "Schizoid" in this two-CD set, all from King Crimson's first year in business, verge on pure dementia. In one take, recorded in December '69 at the Fillmore West, in San Francisco, Ian McDonald's sax goes into a freejazz seizure over the menacing precision of the band's attack.

Epitaph – which features two hours of previously unissued live music with exhaustive documentation by guitarist Robert Fripp, the group's indomitable leader – covers a minute slice of King Crimson's ongoing history: the seven months between the group's BBC Radio debut, in May '69, and the December Fillmore West weekend, when the founding lineup performed its last shows. But the music explains much about how Fripp, McDonald, bassist Greg Lake, drummer Michael Giles and lyricist Peter Sinfield defined progression in rock. The inky abstract stretches of "Mantra" and "Travel Weary Capricorn" anticipate the avant-prog romp of recent underground bands like Tortoise and Jessamine. The early King Crimson were also capable of wonderful grace; "Epitaph" – the song – is a swelling beauty, closer to the elegiac orchestral design of Pet Sounds than trademark Yes or Genesis.

If you have a passing interest in the band or period, In the Court of the Crimson King is all you need. If you crave more, get this box. And start saving: There are two more CDs of '69-gig tapes available by mail order.