This audience recording shows that the talkative punters in the vicinity of the partially concealed microphone were indeed highly appreciative of band that is on cooking form. A sprightly Pictures has Mel Collin scaling up a steep incline of vertiginous notes. After the languid song section of Formentera, the team are quick off the mark to up the speed into the blowing section, with Mel quickly swapping from flute to alto.

The folks in Miami certainly voiced their approval of Mel’s solo as Fripp takes over for Sailor’s Tale. It’s good stuff with Fripp’s guitar sounding like molten silver seeping across the ruminative backing.

Fripp’s announcement for a moment of indulgence as he checks his tuning prior to a slow-bumping Ladies also draws applause. Witty asides from the guitar between the lyrics and a sneaky flirt with Day Tripper via a circuitous ending make this is a fascinating view into how a band has fun with the same material night after night.

The grainy audio renders the sax solo and cymbal work on Groon into a strange, fluctuating white noise haunted ghostly echoes of Albert Ayler and John Coltrane. Fripp’s solo afterwards is another slow-burning and achingly lyrical intervention before it erupts into Wallace’s splenetic drum spot.

Schizoid Man bubbles with a malevolent energy and although the edge is blunted by the audio quality there’s nevertheless plenty of excitement being generated by Crimso’s full-on attack. At its explosive conclusion the crowd rightly go ape!

“‘Scuse us as we make it up as we go along” says Boz as the team get going Miamibound on the improvised encore which sees Boz gamely scats as Fripp tiptoes on the wah-wah. After the storm comes the gentle rain of Cadence and Cascade (warmly applauded) to calm things down. It’s a lovely, light-as-air, jazzily-inflected version and a perfect way for the team to say goodnight.