Uploaded August 2026 | Updated September 2026, 2 weeks ago
Stormy Mundy Selection (Occasional Series - Acts of Random Archive Rummaging)
This video is an edited extract from the latest Stormy Mundy Selection, Taken from the studio multi-track tapes, the full version is featured on dgmlive.com/tour-dates/2900?sessions=on&year=1982
Having started life as a series of patterns on the Simmons drum kit that Bill Bruford had set to marimba and log drum, the drummer once recalled Tony Levin entering the studio and, upon picking up the Chapman Stick, joining in with a series of harmonically complementary runs.
By the time they recorded the piece in the studio, Levin had refined the complex part brimming with counter rhythms and melodic lines to dovetail with the guitars.
There’s a disorienting effect in being able to hear Levin’s contrapuntal orbits weave not only around Bruford’s patterns and Fripp's pulsating guitar, but also around the principal tapping rhythm itself, isolated from the drums.
Belew’s solo in the middle section of the song is akin to an impressionistic tone poem, whose extreme sonics evoke the scream of jet engines, squealing railway-engine brakes, and the blur of hurtling road traffic as the waiting man in the song hurtles back toward his home.
#kingcrimson
#RobertFripp
Stormy Mundy Selection (Occasional Series - Acts of Random Archive Rummaging)
This video is an edited extract from the latest Stormy Mundy Selection, Taken from the studio multi-track tapes, the full version is featured on dgmlive.com/tour-dates/2900?sessions=on&year=1982
Having started life as a series of patterns on the Simmons drum kit that Bill Bruford had set to marimba and log drum, the drummer once recalled Tony Levin entering the studio and, upon picking up the Chapman Stick, joining in with a series of harmonically complementary runs.
By the time they recorded the piece in the studio, Levin had refined the complex part brimming with counter rhythms and melodic lines to dovetail with the guitars.
There’s a disorienting effect in being able to hear Levin’s contrapuntal orbits weave not only around Bruford’s patterns and Fripp's pulsating guitar, but also around the principal tapping rhythm itself, isolated from the drums.
Belew’s solo in the middle section of the song is akin to an impressionistic tone poem, whose extreme sonics evoke the scream of jet engines, squealing railway-engine brakes, and the blur of hurtling road traffic as the waiting man in the song hurtles back toward his home.
#kingcrimson
#RobertFripp
