After the turbulence of the piece, in which Belew turns in a remarkable extended solo, the team wander off into an improv that features Lynchian electric jolts, tinkling bells, and what sounds like an item of plant machinery on the attack. What initially sounded as though it might be a temporary vectoring, marches off into five-minutes of pulsating electronica workout.
From it’s genteel, whispered beginnings, this version of Thrush develops into a complete monster. Never mind “burial of the dead”, Fripp just about buries the good folks of Fukuoka under a torrent of notes and what might be his most acerbic soloing to date in this piece. After the storm comes the calm with Trey Gunn’s notes twinkling like stars in the firmament. As the track fades away to another whisper, it’s a moment of gorgeous resolution.