FraKctured - live performances - audient report

21/10/00 - Filmore, San Francisco

 

21 OKctober 2000. The Fillmore is an excellent house for a band like KC,almost exactly the right size and decent acoustically. I was standing close enough to the stage that Mr Belew's abundant perspiration (the man works _hard_) occasionally struck me. I had promised myself I would leave behind any preconceptions about what the band "should" play and be present, as Mr Fripp puts it, with the moment that presented itself; further, the abundant smoke and occasional flashes in the room signalled the "violation" which had in previous shows caused "FraKctured" to be removed from the setlist. I considered it likely that Mr Fripp would call this evening's performance a photo opportunity. So when the guitarists began flinging the initial notes of "FraKctured" back and forth, I was delighted.

Watching the performance of this impossible piece I was struck by the way Mr Fripp played: his dictum that "relaxation is necessary tension" seemed apropos. He was, in this sense, relaxed His body made no unnecessary movements; his face was concentrated but not tightened. He was, in a sense I began to comprehend for the first time, present with the notes he was playing. A friend remarked afterwards that he kept expecting the plastic flesh to drip away and reveal the robot underneath; I explained that this was the exact opposite of the truth: that we had witnessed a singularly passionate performance. The piece requires massive technique, and doubtless the whole is memorized. But while Fripp was playing, technique fell away in favor of performance and he appeared almost to be inventing each note for the first time.

I have since heard (many times, in fact) the "Heavy ConstruKction" performance of "FraKctured," and it is almost another piece from what I saw and heard at the Fillmore. A sceptic might argue that this was due to my personal involvement with the latter event. I would respond by saying, first, that this was exactly the point, but, second, it was wrong anyway.

Dan'l Danehy-Oakes

 

From Trey Gunn's diary at www.treygunn.com

October 21, 2000 -- The Filmore, show #3 / San Francisco, CA

This was an awesome show. I don't know how particular audience members experienced it, but as a whole the band played very, very well. The energy was really high, and this was largely due (I believe) to the audience. They were so supportive of us. Yes!

I would venture to say: Audience 9 out of 10, Band 8 out of 10.

Like I say, we played really well. Of course there were some flubs, but there were some really tight pockets as well. It's interesting to see what flubs actually get translated to the audience. There is so much excitement out there and what we hear on-stage is often so very different from what the audience is hearing. Then you add in the physical dimension of what people are able to pick-up with their ears and body. Some people hear more high frequencies then others, some hear more bass, some sense the rhythms at the forefront of their experience. And then you have to add in how everyone perceives what they are sensing. All in all is it virtually impossible to know how someone else experiences what is happening. So it is always amusing, when talking to someone after the show, to see the look on their face when I tell them that we totally blew a section of the music. And then other times people tell me that we screwed something up, when actually it was played near flawlessly. So much subjectivity... And yet, I have to confess that I really love the variety of experience that our shows produce. For me, that is what is exciting.

There were more photographers tonight and I will risk the danger of quoting from the Discipline Guest Book on this. Paul S. wrote:

"I am considering not returning to anymore KC shows due to the ongoing struggle for a civil audience. On Saturday, after the rather obnoxious Friday audience I could sense most of the audience trying to police the bad ones. I started to get more worried about the sole audient that had the potential to ruin the show rather than concentrate on the music."

Well, I don't think that is the answer. We NEED attentive audients. That is what redeems the show. However, I will say that the same thing happens to me on-stage. Personally I don't mind the photographers as long as they don't get in the way of the performance. I have seen, and met, photographers and moving camera operators who CAN do this. It is quite a special skill and perhaps a real gift. You never feel them being an issue in the performance. Somehow they are both present and invisible. This is great because, when you ARE aware of them (as we were, for example, in being filmed for the whole KC European tour) you have the feeling that the 'real' moment is being captured. Not, some false apparition attached to the imagination of the camera operator.

But, back to Paul's comment. I, too, feel myself becoming resentful of the photographers. And not because I care whether they are there are not. But, because we have asked them not to take pictures. And because I fear that I will lose my guitar player from the show. So, I begin to seethe with rage when I see a camera come out. I want to stare at them and shoot them the evil eye. I want to, personally, let them know that I see them and that I am putting a curse on them and all of their generations to come. I want acid to drip from the ceiling and melt their grubby, sweaty, fat little hands as they clutch their pathetic, disposable flash cameras.

But, then I say to myself: "Hey Self, hold on there a minute! You don't care whether this is happening or not! Music can redeem this. You need to chill out and enter back into the performance, buddy! You losing it. Get a hold of yourself! Come back man. Come Back!" And then (if I can be strong enough with myself), I can let it go. And the performance opens back up for me. Ahhhh... where have I been, my friend?