And so to Buenos Aires where the opening soundscape wherning and squirning is interspersed with subterranean rumblings that sound as if some large beast is drawing breath in the earth below. Those low notes transform into a deep growl in the second piece as it continues the somber, slightly unsettling atmosphere. As notes drift in and out of focus, an angular and forceful solo pushes into acerbic territory. There’s a bittersweet mood in the third piece and a surprise as Fripp’s notes drop into pools of echo, rippling off into the radiant distance. Quietly beautiful.
Of the performance overall, Fripp’s diary says, “Several audients, whose opinion I trust, suggest the performance was strong. Onstage, the sound felt contained (in a good way) but without quite the edge we have developed. My own performance was holding the space despite those who were impinging upon it. These included strange people staring at me strangely from the balcony; and the woman viddying Eye Of The Needle on her mobile ‘phone - she didn’t know an announcement had been made! She hadn’t seen any of the posters on display! She hadn’t read the programme-insert! So, when she handed over “her” mobile – the one that didn’t have a camera/viddy capacity – what? She mistook her partner’s ‘phone for her own? What a pity.”
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