“There is, of course, a tradition that when a band comes on stage that good-humoured and well-meaning members of the audience shout out all manner of irrelevancies,” says Fripp after being interrupted as he’s about to do his ‘we are a dance band’ announcement. He goes on to point out in a rather barbed aside, “it’s so difficult when one has a good idea to keep it to one’s self.” Fripp is disparaging about the fact the audience is seated and thus taking up valuable space that could be used by those wishing to cut the rug. However, the fact that the punters aren’t raving about the place and yelling to each other does means the music has less competition and as a result, this is an exceptionally clear-sounding concert. Barry Andrews’ organ is a particular beneficiary of this, with his parts, often obscured, clearly audible. Understandably the audience begins to compete a little with the band during the quiet duet between Fripp and Andrews but on the whole, the punters give the duo the space to do their thing. The gnarly organ splinters on the second Thrang Thrang Gozinbulx add real texture that is frequently overlooked - hardly surprising given that Fripp is burning up the fretboard at that point. However, what Andrews is doing is an object lesson in doing a lot with a little; aka turning a disadvantage (in this case the Crumar organ) to his advantage.