I bought this album when it was first released simply because I thought the cover was so brilliant - 1969 was quite a simple time really!!!

However 36 years on I still listen to it on a regular basis and still remain surprised by how far ahead of its time it was. It is very easy to criticise the lyrics listening to the album in 2005 but in 1969 they were quite acceptable (if a little odd). Musically, however, it remains an album of the highest quality; although it has to be said that the self-indulgence of 'Moonchild' drags a little. The power of 21st CSM still shines through today and this is then followed by a total contrast in 'I Talk to the Wind' with some beautiful flute playing from Ian McDonald. 'Epitaph' has always been my personal favourite and rewards frequent listening. The title track is perhaps a touch over long but remains a joy to listen to. I am sure somebody listening to this album for the first time today would not find the whole album a treat but there is plenty there for everyone and as for me - it can take me back 35 years in an instant!!!

"In the Court of the Crimson King" is the outstanding example of the late 60's, early 70's progressive rock, although it is not really quite like the other contenders such as Yes, ELP, Floyd etc. It stands out because of the orchestral feel to the music - with the serious use of the Mellotron, and flutes over the HUGE riffing noises from the rhythm section.
The only band to come close was Van Der Graaf Generator with "The least we can do is wave to each other".
As with all music of that era, you either love it (like me) or hate it (like everybody else!) - so, track by track...
1. "21st Century Schizoid Man" - WOW. The ultimate screaming polemic against all forms of pollution. Legend has it that KC were booked as a Soul band by mistake, and played this track to a startled audience of gentle groovers. Nasty!
2. "I Talk To The Wind" - gentle flutes and beautiful poetry, before the onslaught continues...
3. "Epitaph" - magnificent orchestral sounds, but with dynamic rock backing. Powerful and dramatic - play it LOUD!
4. "Moonchild" - one for the hippies... sort of free-jazz-ish.
5. "The Court Of The Crimson" - and what you've all been waiting for. The one and only. The ultimate. The awe-inspiring. The tear-jerking. The spine-tingling. The utterly utterly gloriously perfect "Court of the Crimson King".

And the cover (at least on the original LP) was quite amazing - a blood-red moon-faced planetary giant - some dark-side of Gaea perhaps.

When people talk about the roots of progressive rock, this album is usually one of the main contenders. Listening to this album now, I can honestly say I enjoy other King Crimson albums more, and other progressive rock albums for that matter. But the fact that this album was created in the late 60's, experimenting with the now classic styles of progressive rock, and while other giants in the genre were just getting started, makes this a monumental and definitive album.

The original line-up of Robert Fripp(guitar), Greg Lake (bass, vocals), Ian McDonald (keyboard, synths), Michael Giles (drums), and Peter Sinfield (lyrics) was a short-lived one, but one that created their best album until the legendary power trio (Fripp, Wetton and Brufford) stunned the progressive scene in 74 with "Red". Coincidentally this album starts in a similar vein to "Red", with the frenetic "21st Century Schizoid Man" setting the album off with a fast and powerful start. The song combines some harsh vocals and a timeless, classic Fripp riff to kick things off. This is ensued by a stunning and overtly technical jazz-fusion middle section, which leads back to the main motif and riff. It is an outstanding opener, and the most fluid, immediate song KC would make for years.

The rest of the album is significantly more relaxed, creating a heavy vibe of sadness and melancholy. This is probably best shown with the classic ballad "Epitaph", a superb and lush outing that is both texturally beautiful and thematically unsettling. This is due to the profound and touching lyrics dealing with the ease and excess of misguidance and ignorance, sung with great passion and a deal of desperation from Lake. Musically the song has a heavy dosage of strings and dramatic timpani rolls to build up a brooding piece.

"I Talk To The Wind", which comes in before "Epitaph", is a very calming piece, slowly washing over with some gentle flute playing, vocal harmonies and some splashy ride cymbals, it is a nice song, and acts as a good contrast to the album's opening flurry. "Moonchild" seems a little pointless to me, and the only weak song. It starts decent enough, and feels like it will continue in the same vein as the two pervious ballads. But then Fripp and the gang seem to want to push the idea of the music being experimental, of a higher `art', as they experiment with various instruments for a good twelve minutes. It is essentially `noodling', and makes for a rather dull and unmemorable song.

After the only weak song, the album closes in fine style with the dreamy, ethereal choruses of the title track. This song has always been one of my favourite KC tracks. It really is a masterpiece of a ballad, combining quiet and understated verses with big, lush choruses, packed with strings and eerie vocal harmonies that send shivers down my spine. A perfect ending to one of rocks most influential and important albums.

Cat's foot iron claw, neuro-surgeons scream for more, at paranoia's poison door, twenty-first century schizoid man.

"In The Court Of The Crimson King: an Observation by King Crimson" (1969) is often attributed as the first 'true' progressive rock record: not only in media circles and rock criticism but also in academic discourse. This has hardly been tested or substantiated. If we deconstruct the terms in this claim, it seems impossible to support it. After all, what is ''true' progressive rock'? I prefer to think of it as a nodal point in progressive rock history (as opposed to Yes's "Tales From Topographic Oceans", which is, unfortunately, often considered a dead-end) which allows it to be looked at as definitive of the genre.

After an atmospheric (sound effect) introduction, King Crimson crash in with a bold rock riff announced by guitar and saxophone (with bass and drums). Enter: Greg Lake, surely one of the best rock vocalists in history, singing an angry distorted vocal, a psychedelic rock trait, totally in keeping with the lyrics of a schizoid man. After two verses, Crimson break into an upbeat Jazz-type section complete with addictive riffs and improvised guitar and sax solos. After the final verse, the group crash out with a free, chaotic, explosive play out. At 22 years of age it is probably impossible for me to appreciate the full impact of this track on the rock fan of 1969. However, it is still striking to me (I, of course, was many years unborn at the time) over 35 years later, which probably says enough. If you like to 'rock out', then this track definitely hits the spot with the utmost perfection.

Before we even have chance to catch our breath we are numerous seconds into the gentle and contemplative 'I talk to the Wind', which places itself in stark contrast to the Schizo-opener. The melodic composition illuminates Peter Sinfield's poetic lyric in a way that could not be bettered. This is especially evident with the subtly haunting words o the Chorus:
I talk to the wind
My words are all carried away
I talk to the wind
The wind does not hear
The wind cannot hear
(!!!!!!!!)

There are so many wonderful (sometimes painfully so) moments during the record that one could not list them all and do them any justice here. My possible favourite is the repeated 'crying', as sung by Lake, with its dissonance on the first syllable, that seems as though it will move to resolve, but only moves to another dissonance, hanging there for the second syllable. This is repeated over and over to fade at the end of Epitaph. The ten-minute improvised instrumental section that follows 'Moonchild', which contains no explicit melody, harmony or beat, is continually something of a challenge and a problem for many listeners. I will suggest that if one persists with it for a number of hearings, one is rewarded in that one's appreciation of the record in its entirety is heightened. It is as if the 'moonchild' has slipped into a mystical dream, which threatens to turn into a horrific nightmare. However, luckily, it never quite gets there. Or, have I got that completely the wrong way round?!

To summarise: with strong melodies, perfected by innovative harmonic progressions, the confident vocal work of Lake, backed by Fripp's unique guitar style, and the amazing skill of Giles to deliver the exact amount or percussive subtlety or excessiveness at exactly the right times, we have a record that cannot sensibly be faulted. This, of course, is not to mention the compositional collaboration of McDonald/Sinfield, for which I see no reasonable comparison! All in all, we are referring to a definitive landmark in rock history.

If you have never heard this record, hit the "Add to Basket" button immediately. For to have passed this life having never experienced this music......... tragic!

Kevin Lowe: 2005

If contemporary album reviews are to be believed, "In the Court of the Crimson King" burst like a thunderclap on to the music scene, helped, no doubt, both by the lurid album cover (and better inner sleeve artwork) created by Barry Godber, and by the explosive impact of the opening track, "21st Century Schizoid Man". Commercially, KC were unable to capitalise on this debut because the band effectively broke up, going through several changes of line-up before reaching the Fripp-Wetton-Bruford-Cross version that for many, myself included, represented the high-point of the band's evolution.

Forty years on, does "In the Court" stand the test of time? On the whole, the album - especially in HQCD format - stands up pretty well. The genius of the album was - and remains - the blend of heavy rock and the more ethereal style of the late sixties. Others - notably the Moody Blues - had tried this kind of fusion, but no one did it as boldly or as effectively as KC.

The nuances between rock and etherea determine how the album can be enjoyed today, with the former lasting, predictably, better than the latter.

"Schizoid Man" is a raucous, uncomplicated rock number, and remains vibrant and exciting. "I Talk to the Wind" is much more "sixties" in its style, but remains a good track. The high-point of the album is, undoubtedly, "Epitaph", a complex and superbly textured piece which benefits considerably from Peter Sinfield's lyrics.

In my opinion - and, indeed, those of many contemporary reviewers - "Moonchild" is the weakest track on the album. To some of those reviewers, it was simply too long; seen from the perspective of 2009, the title alone (and the lyrics) are sufficient to peg the track into the flower era of the sixties.

The tour de force here - in addition to "Epitaph" - is the title track, a beautifully complex, structured piece which again benefits from Sinfield's lyrics.

"In the Court" was a spectacularly original album back in 1969, and - with the exception of "Moonchild" - has worn well. KC were not going to be this good again until the magisterial "Red" album in 1974.

As a footnote here, I recently purchased the Japanese remaster of this album, which uses the HQCD format (it will play on any standard CD player). I'm glad I did, because this subtly-textured album really benefits from the HQCD remastering. In either format, "In the Court" is by any measure a classic, and a milestone in rock history which stands the test of time pretty well.