Beacon Theatre, NYC

Intro

I recently saw a BEAT show, consisting of Adrian Belew, Tony Levin, Steve Vai and Danny Carey playing 80s King Crimson music. I’d been drooling to see this since it was announced earlier in the year, and I think pretty much everyone who attended was a hardcore fan as tickets sold out very quickly. I’ll walk you through the evening in this post.

Background

For the uninitiated: King Crimson was a London-based rock band formed in 1969 that underwent frequent personnel changes before disbanding in 1974. Founding guitarist Robert Fripp formed a new version of King Crimson in the early 1980s with Adrian Belew on guitar & vocals, Tony Levin on stick & bass, and Bill Bruford on drums, the only other carryover from the 70s. They released three albums: Discipline (1981), Beat (1982) and Three of a Perfect Pair (1984). It’s hard to describe the sound of Discipline. Imagine if The Talking Heads (with whom Belew had previously played) infused their sound with heady jazz and Indonesian gamelan while taking their respective instrumental virtuosity to a higher level. Beat continued in the vein of Discipline but with a leaner and poppier aesthetic, while TPP was split down the middle between straight-ish pop songs and abstract instrumentals. Of the three, Discipline was by far the most popular, but devoted fans have lots of love for the other two as well.

A hallmark of King Crimson’s 52-year history is that each time Fripp forms a new version with new musicians, they abandon most of the old repertoire and play almost entirely new material with a completely different sound. The final iteration of Crimson (2013-21) was the first to primarily play older songs live, but they mostly drew from the 60s and 70s. Only two 80s songs ever cracked their setlists. As such, the content of those 80s albums had largely been unplayed by authorized musicians for decades.

If I had to choose a favorite period of Crimson, it’d probably be the 80s. So especially with being born after those albums were made, I was among many fans thrilled to learn that Belew and Levin were kicking off a tour to revive that unique music, with guitar legend Steve Vai (another Frank Zappa alumnus like Belew) filling in for Fripp and Danny Carey of Tool at the drum stool.

The Setlist

1st Set	2nd Set	Encore
Neurotica	Waiting Man	Red
Neal and Jack and Me	The Sheltering Sky	Thela Hun Ginjeet
Heartbeat	Sleepless
Sartori in Tangier	Frame by Frame
Dig Me	Matte Kudesai
Model Man	Elephant Talk
Man with an Open Heart	Three of a Perfect Pair
Industry	Indiscipline
Larks’ Tongues in Aspic Pt. III

1st Set

If the abundance of men over 50 clad in every variety of KC shirts wasn’t an indicator, the standing ovation from the band merely walking on stage made clear that this audience was pumped. The band took a moment to bask in it before assuming their stations.

Not one song from Discipline appeared in the 1st set. BEAT saved the fan favorites for last, and devoted the 1st set to deeper cuts from the other two albums.

Massive disclaimer: this was one of the best concerts I’ve seen. It was some of my favorite music performed by some of my favorite musicians. But a review just gushing over everything might bore you, so I’ll try to be critical while revisiting the night. Just keep in mind that the whole thing was mind-blowingly good.

The enthusiasm was palpable starting from Belew’s whistle calls to open “Neurotica”, but the 1st set had its shaky moments, like the band was still settling in. At a couple points the players sounded slightly out of sync, if only by a few milliseconds, when starting and ending some of the busier songs that require all the players to meet on a dime with razor-sharp precision.

I had seen Adrian Belew playing Talking Heads songs on the Remain in Light tour a couple years ago, and that show (with all due respect to Jerry Harrison) was all about Belew and his guitar. In fact, of all the Crimson players I’ve seen (including KC proper in 2021), I thought Belew put on the most thrilling live show and had the most engaging stage presence. Of course, at that time he wasn’t standing next to another show-stealing alpha dog like Steve Vai. It took Belew a couple songs to find his voice, and throughout the night I wished he could’ve let loose more with his zany guitar solos, or at least played a little louder. For example, I was expecting more audible fire from Belew’s guitar between lines in the middle section of “Neal and Jack and Me”, a personal favorite to hear live.

But by the final chorus of this beautiful song the band was in fine form. I expected a majestic solo from Vai to bring it home, and he delivered.

“Heartbeat” was solid as its pop throwback self. Steve Vai appropriately played a little more assertively than Fripp used to on Belew’s ballad without overpowering the sweetness out of it. Vai was the musician I was least familiar with prior to the show, and thus stood the most to gain. I knew he could wail and he certainly did, but the different approaches he took to Fripp’s old parts, adding novel flavor while not deviating enough to lose the familiar essence of the songs, were what impressed me most. Sometimes I liked it more than Fripp’s parts, sometimes not; but it always sounded distinct.

Tony Levin’s stick was on point as always on “Sartori in Tangier”. It’s easy to ignore him in this write up because he was so rock solid throughout; with good reason Robert Fripp once said he’s one of two musicians (the other being Michael Giles) capable of carrying King Crimson on his own shoulders. A party ignited on stage and the crowd was grooving, but I felt like–this being a piece that Fripp used to really let his hair down on–Vai could’ve gone even harder and really taken us to the stratosphere. He’d end up doing so later in the night.

Danny Carey was the musician I most looked forward to seeing perform this music, as Tool was my favorite band before I discovered King Crimson. The melodiousness of his drumming in Tool has always stood out to me, clearly influenced by and extending Bill Bruford’s style in 80s Crimson. I expected his melodic touch to make a stronger presence in this set than it did, but instead found his playing more characterized by force than melody. I’d have taken a few decibels off his volume and given them to Belew or Levin. Leaving the venue, I heard people praising how powerful his drumming was, a positive appraisal of the same assessment. To my ear he faithfully filled Bruford’s shoes, which could be a plus for people like me who never saw Bruford live, but instead of a recreation I was curious to hear how the sound he’s developed with Tool blended with older Crimson material. His drumming was fantastic; I just wish he’d brought more surprising new flavor to the music than just the power.

After “Sartori”, Belew pulled the curtain to reveal the mystery item on stage… his old Fender Mustang! I think he was hoping for a bigger audience response to the unveiling, but Belew looked giddy to play this storied axe again after about four decades. And that was the cue to launch into Three of a Perfect Pair songs, starting with the wild and weird “Dig Me” and followed by the two other pop songs from the left side: “Model Man” and “Man with an Open Heart”. I have fond memories of giggling at these sappy explorations of manhood and relationships as a teenager. It was a pleasant surprise to see them played live, though they probably got the most lukewarm audience response of the whole night.

Aside from the finale of “Neal and Jack and Me”, the band saved the best for last in the first set. The lights dimmed as they wove an entrancing tapestry with “Industry”, Belew having plenty of fun with his devices in the middle. I’ve never really gotten the album version of this piece. Where live versions from the 80s took a more sinister and aggressive approach, this band’s emphasis was on atmosphere and it definitely worked. I joined the crowd in jumping to my feet when it was done.

The band capitalized on that momentum and quickly redirected it into a rollicking “Larks III”. Recalling Fripp nearly knocking himself off his own stool in the Three of a Perfect Pair: Live in Japan video, I whipped out my phone as soon as the interlocking guitar interlude hit. Vai and Belew had a fun exchange, but I missed Fripp’s explosiveness. I guess this is a fundamental difference between Vai and Fripp: Vai packs more pizazz, style and lyricism, and his showmanship (which I mean as praise not a knock) makes him a lot more fun to watch than a mushroom sitting on a corner stool, but Fripp is the king of intensity when he chooses to be.

2nd Set

Spirits were high during intermission, but more in the way one anticipates the main course after an appetizer. As one who’s watched the 1982 Frejus concert footage enough to have it memorized, I couldn’t have been happier with how the second half kicked off. True to its name, the band recreated the intro to a Beat (the album) tour show, with individual members slowly entering for “Waiting Man”, starting with some Danny Carey wizardry.

Belew’s feedback-drenched guitar solo is my favorite part of “Waiting Man” for me besides the introduction. Vai gives this section a slightly funkier texture by strumming with a wah-wah like effect where Fripp would’ve been cross picking.

Up to this point, the band had only played songs from the two less popular 80s albums: Beat and Three of a Perfect Pair. Next they launched into their first Discipline piece, which happens to be my favorite on the album: “The Sheltering Sky”. The crowd gave an enthusiastic roar upon Vai’s first statement of Fripp’s theme melody. Where Fripp would’ve gone more purely speed demon as the first section ramps up, Vai used lots of whammy bar and looked increasingly pleased by the audience response. 

My favorite part of the piece, especially in live versions from the 80s, has always been when Belew makes “cloud” noises in the middle. Rather than rhythmically jagged cloud distortion, Belew opted this time for sweeter “Heartbeat”-esque lines.

But if I carried any slight disappointment, Vai blew it out of the water with a solo for the ages. I get why many Vai detractors say he’s a showoff, but I’d call him an effective showman who really knows how to seize the moment and stun a crowd. This was the highlight of the evening for me and was one of the best guitar solos I’ve seen in person. The guitar even levitates at one point! I think we all felt like we were levitating too just from watching. I hear both the relentlessness of Fripp and the recklessness of Belew in his playing, but mostly just a lot of Steve Vai.

The party was on from here. “Sleepless” is a guaranteed good time; seeing Levin break out the funk fingers (also used on “Larks III”) makes any show worth the price of admission.

“Frame by Frame” is the definitive 80s crim-song because it has all the key ingredients: shifting time signatures (verses in 7, chorus in 4), interlocking guitars dispersing into high-speed arpeggios and twang bar, the warm ooze of Levin’s stick, melodious percussion that’s light on the cymbals, and a compelling melody with great lyrics to boot. The whole quartet absolutely nailed this one.

The excitement was feverish by this point, and it was time to slow things down a notch with a tender rendition of “Matte Kudesai”. Tasty embellishments here by Vai, as always toeing the line while still bringing a little more flair to his guitar accompaniment, and Belew true to form with his slide seagull imitations. This was one place where I didn’t find him lacking in volume or power. I was surprised to see Levin stay on stick, opting for a softer sound over the busy bass countermelodies he would’ve added in the 80s.

“Elephant Talk” was the blast we knew it would be. Just as good as Vai’s faithfully executed mouse solo after the C-section are Belew’s twangy lines underneath. Once again I wished Belew’s guitar solo were just a tad louder or more forceful after the words with a D, but who am I kidding–it was pretty danged awesome. To those who say this song doesn’t translate well live,  I’m sorry you missed the party!

The final crim-ballad spot went to “Three of a Perfect Pair”. I appreciated that Carey’s beat didn’t emphasize the 3 & 6 (if counting the verses in 6/8) like some live versions do, which would’ve made the song sound too waltzy. And how about Belew deploying the tools of his trade for a screwy solo?

As in the olden days, the main set ended with the crash of “Indiscipline”. If I was critical of Carey earlier, my favorite rock drummer absolved himself of any possible sins with a ripping and raucous solo that had the cheers raining down. It was tremendously exciting to see three great drummers trading solos when I saw Crimson proper in 2021, but one Danny Carey can hold his own. And while I respect Jakko Jaksyk putting his own spin on the verses by making a unison melody for guitar and voice, nothing beats (pun intended) Belew’s joyous playfulness. When I listen to renditions of this song, I’m mostly there for the drumming. But seeing it live with this group, I hung on Belew’s every word. Did I still like it? I did!

Encore

A standing ovation immediately ensued. The man next to me seemed dubious when I predicted the band would come back to play the title track of his shirt, but a downright vicious version of “Red” they did play, and Carey sounded very much in his element here (probably because he sat in for this song when KC opened for Tool in 2001, the very tour which made me aware of the former’s existence). Some might think this was a deviation from the night’s 80s theme, but given that Red never got toured, Levin, Belew and co. were actually the first Crims to ever play it live, and did so many more times than John Wetton (r.i.p.) ever did for the studio recording. So I think they can claim ownership. The most fun I had all night was with this and the bouncy “Thela Hun Ginjeet” that followed, the atmosphere being pure exuberance with everyone on their feet for the final two numbers. 

I’d seen Belew whip out “Thela” during the Remain in Light tour and it was a gas, but this was a far more suitable band to play it. I can’t speak for the entire audience, but within the radius of my seat it was a dance party. I guess that speaks to an ultimate difference between a BEAT vs. King Crimson show: having two guitarists moving around on stage makes for a more upbeat and lighthearted experience than seven guys in fixed positions. And that’s exactly what this 80s music calls for.

From leaving the Beacon, walking down the sidewalk, and even to the subway ride home, everyone seemed deliriously happy about what they’d just witnessed. What a treat to be alive in 2024 and see some of the best musicians on the planet play some of the greatest music made in the last century! If you haven’t seen a BEAT show, you should. And if you have, I’d love to hear your take.