Torsdag 23. juli 2026
Robert Fripp had given the project his blessing, finding himself too busy to take part, and he had also advised Steve Vai to be himself, because people would go to hear him play as much as to hear the music, and Belew had wisely left enough room in the arrangements so that fans of the individual performers could enjoy their contributions as well.
The show veered between near perfect renditions of the rhythms and textures that make this music unique and semi-orchestrated chaos in the more open passages. In both arenas, Belew shone. His voice showed no signs of either a long European tour or of his getting older, still clear, pitch-perfect and full of personality. His guitar playing also remains excellent, the 1980s arpeggios seemingly unforgotten in his hands, and his use of effects and feedback to create eerie, edgy, and uncomfortable solo passages hasn’t diminished. “Industry” and “The Sheltering Sky” gave him opportunities to tie his instrument in knots.
Steve Vai took a solo slot on “The Sheltering Sky”, clearly earmarked as his big solo moment in the show, though he had plenty of chance to show off his trademark nimble finger work in “Neal and Jack and Me” and “Sartori in Tangier”. He had kept to Fripp’s advice, playing the lines accurately only when it was necessary that the music sounded right, like on “Matte Kudasai”, where he gave a delicate and faithful rendition of Fripp’s backing of Belew’s voice and solo. Otherwise, he took the space left for his own style to stand out, with fret-tapping, fast legato lines, and a bluesier sound than we find on the original records. And this was good, because it gives the music a fresh feel that is important in live performance.
Danny Carey was perhaps the only person who could have played Bill Bruford’s parts faithfully, even notwithstanding his love of the music, and while his discipline and hard skills were needed throughout, the best moment was his fierce opening to “Indiscipline”, another level of explosive brutality compared to the original and even to later live performances. His drumming on “Industry” and “Sleepless” was much the same, rumbling, hard, edgy. But when he wasn’t pushing the music to its limits, he was groovy, like on “Man With An Open Heart” and “Three of a Perfect Pair”. “Waiting Man” also gave him a moment centre stage on synth drums, playing something closers to the meditative playing of his lines for Tool.
Tony Levin at 80 years old is the oldest of the group. Without him, the project might not have had the same authenticity. His Chapman Stick playing was an essential part of the sound of the records, the perfect complement to Fripp and Belew’s jagged arpeggios. If he has lost any of his precision since then – which you’d expect – it didn’t show. He can still make the thing sing, as on “Sartori in Tangier”, or keep up with the rhythms on “Frame by Frame” and “Three of a Perfect Pair”. Of course, it was his iconic opening to “Elephant Talk” that was the big moment for the instrument and he didn’t fluff his lines.
The set closed with “Red”, as a tribute to Fripp and Bruford, to which the Chapman Stick added grit, and “Thela Hun Gingeet”. “Red” was a sheer crowd pleaser at the end of a row of crowd pleasers. “Frame by Frame” and “Indiscipline” were perhaps the most anticipated apart from people waiting to see Vai show off his chops. There were times when the music felt on the brink of falling apart, in the extemporised passages, but that was not so far from the orchestrated chaos of the original (or the later work by ProjeKcts). And, let’s face it – this is not easy music to play, even for musicians of this calibre. They seemed to enjoy themselves and they got a standing ovation. Let’s hope they find time to keep doing it. 5/6
Words: Alex Maines
Photos: Anne-Marie Forker
