1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die: 168. King Crimson – In The Court Of The Crimson King (1969)

 

Although there have been a few albums I’ve heard before, this one felt like an old friend, being a staple of my student days. And so when the tracks wandered away into the proggy bits, I recalled every little cymbal rustle or flute motif.

This is arguably where the ground rules for prog rock got laid down – a mix of rock, jazz, and classical elements that can either be an exciting journey or annoyingly self-indulgent, sometimes both at the same time.

The title track is an odyssey of different “verses” done in different styles – haunting flute one moment, sparse steam calliope the next, linked together by the soaring choral explosion of the chorus.

Epitaph is similar in some ways, Greg Lake’s voice almost touching Justin Haywood doing Nights In White Satin levels of soaring, before the track devolves into the “movements” Dream and Illusion, both of which are sparse tone poems of fragmentary sounds that wander in and out. Jazz spontaneity and experimentation, but applied with classical precision.

Twenty-First Century Schizoid Man marries rock with jazz wandering, and also highlights the common occurrence of prog having willfully opaque lyrics – “Cat’s foot. Iron Claw. Neurosurgery squeeze”.

The remaining two tracks – Moonchild and I Talk To The Wind, are softer, quieter, more lyrical, and more coherent as a single throughline of melody, there are no breaks to explore random sounds on these.

For better or for worse, prog has arrived.