Robert Fripp’s insistence that the League Of Gentlemen were a dance band apparently extended to a clause in the contract that the venue would clear away tables and chairs to create a dance floor if none already existed in the venue. Addressing the audience at the top of the show, Fripp notes “the only for this is that one’s legs should snap like whipcords,” and with that, off they go. Trap is yet another masterclass in how relatively simple parts, each complimentary can be carefully arranged to create something that constantly plays with foreground and background, providing the attentive listener, or in this case, a dancer, with four wildly views to alight upon; the bottom line is that it swings like the clappers. The same is true of an especially on-point Minor Man later in the set. "Introduce the band," yells out a punter in between a rousing version of Christian Children and a thrilling Dislocated, reminding us once again that without our benefit of hindsight and anorakish knowledge, many in this room and others like it on this tour wouldn't have a clue as to who the band comprised of. With such a tightly interlocking unit as this group, it doesn't really seem fair to single out an individual player but Sara Lee’s bass playing throughout this gig, with its focus and economy, is simply superb.
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