Fripp, Mel Collins, Boz Burrell and Ian Wallace only made one record together, and it hurt them all – but the short-lived touring line-up and their achievements deserve reconsideration
It’s early on the morning of January 6, 2010, and somewhere between Berkhamsted and Hemel Hempstead, Robert Fripp is looking out of his hotel window at the heavy overnight snowfall and his snowed-in car. He’s in this neck of the woods to work with Steven Wilson, who is remixing King Crimson’s Islands for the 40th anniversary series.
Dropping Fripp off, he goes home to work on tracks the pair recorded with Mel Collins the previous day before the snow. Aside from a guest spot on King Crimson’s Red , it’s the first time Collins has done a full album session with Fripp since Islands in 1971.
At the appointed hour Jakszyk returns to Wilson’s house. Upon entering the car, Fripp doesn’t even say hello – but with his normally demure Dorset accent now exasperated and laden with expletives, he recites some of Peter Sinfield’s lyrics to Formentera Lady, the opening track from Islands .
‘Here O-fucking-dysseus charm-ed for dark fucking Circe fucking fell/Still her fucking perfume lingers, still her fucking spell .’ Sighing heavily, he says, “If I’ve learned one thing, it’s never let people write songs about going on their fucking holidays.” Convulsed with laughter, Jakszyk says, “Oh Robert, don’t spoil the magic.” To which, Fripp, digging deeper into his native West Country accent, smilingly replies, “Plenty magic still left there, boy!”
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