As a result we can hear thumping good Discipline and a Thela which oddly enough benefits from the halo of distortion, imbuing Belew’s stunning solo in the middle section with even more urban angst than might usually be the case. “So, one night little Adrian Belew from Illinois...” he says as he begins his monologue about dangerous places in London town and goes on to unleash yet more sonic mayhem. This is an impressive performance from the guitarist and the band seem raised up by it.
There’s a real sense of depth and space in tonight’s version of The Sheltering Sky; after Robert’s solo and before Belew goes into cloud mode, the guitars hang in the air drifting above the insect buzz of crowd noise. That air of stillness in what was quite a boisterous crowd is something to be savoured, a taste of something altogether rather special. There’s a point where Fripp and Belew are taking their respective guitar synths to amazing places before the restatement of the end theme, and again seems to be occurring in a different space and time to the rest of the gig. Extraordinary stuff.