Go West, Crimson King
Back in 1968, art rock's King Crimson spearheaded the entire progressive/classical
rock movement with the landmark album, ``In the Court of the Crimson King.''
Some historians say the album single-handedly gave birth to those genres,
as well as the diametrically opposed styles of jazz rock fusion and heavy
metal with one fell swoop. In fact, the album came complete with cover art
illustration of a terrified, open-mouthed scream - artwork which now seems
prophetic because it was reminiscent of a jarring, painful birth, as if
announcing something earth-shaking would burst from inside the record jacket.
And in actuality, it did.
So, what do you do when your band kicks off its first year like that? In
Crimson's case, it continued pushing the limits of rock music for the next
30 years. Leader Robert Fripp and other members of the band went on to experiment
with such visionaries as David Bowie, Yes, Patrick Moraz, Peter Gabriel,
Brian Eno, Talking Heads and David Sylvian, among a host of others.
These days, there's an Oregon connection to this uber-group. The newest
incarnation of King Crimson features two guitarists, two drummers and two
bassists - one of whom is former Eugene, Oregon resident and University
of Oregon student Trey Gunn.
Gunn came to Eugene in 1981 from his native Texas to study musical composition
and wound up playing in Eugene bands The Magic If and Punishment Farm. He
left Eugene by 1986 to join up with Fripp's League of Crafty Guitarists
project on the East Coast.
He now lives in Seattle, Washington and plays bass - sort of - right alongside
former Gabriel bassist Tony Levin. In the usual Crimson tradition of esoterica,
he performs on instruments called the Chapman Stick and the Warr Guitar,
which are very much like the bass. Both have the range of a bass and guitar,
and both are designed for tapping rather than strumming or picking.
``You can play two sounds simultaneously: A bass line and a guitar line,''
Gunn explains of the Warr guitar, which he helped develop. ``I'm currently
working on a mono version with Mark Warr of Warr Guitars. Most guys are
strummers. I'm a tapper. But there are some guys who tap out a bebop jazz
guitar line while still tapping out a bass line with the other hand.''
Watching Gunn and friends on his 1998 solo tour - or any King Crimson video
- was like watching small, angelic, psychedelic finger ballets. The tiny,
graceful and fluid movements of Gunn's tapping fingers - and that of band
members Tony Geballe and Chris Cunningham - was absolutely hypnotizing.
Their fingers danced lightly on the neck and pick-up areas and many in the
audiences of his solo shows spent more time staring at these minute movements
than at the musicians themselves.
Compared to going to school in Eugene, his life must certainly now be a
lively one - even compared to the often surreal surroundings of that last
vestige of rampant hippiedom. But Gunn is now on the farther walls of many
of the world's most cutting edge projects. He was the somewhat hidden one
third of the writing team on the stunning collaborations of Robert Fripp
and David Sylvian, ``Damage'' and ``The First Day,'' he's now part of the
various ProjeKCt's, which are different combinations of King Crimson members,
and he's the proud father of two seriously surreal solo records, ``One Thousand
Years'' and ``The Third Star.''
His time in Eugene had its moments, however. His memories of a truly strange
but natural geologic event are a perfect example.
``There was an earthquake in Japan or Hawaii around `85 or something, and
they predicted when the tsunami would hit our coast,'' Gunn recalls. ``So
we drove out to the coast to see it. And there it was. It just rolled up
onto the beach. It wasn't very big, only about two feet. But it stretched
from horizon to horizon. It was the weirdest thing I've ever seen.''
Gunn also remembered a somewhat prophetic encounter with now-deceased U
of O Professor Ed Kammerer, who used to teach jazz piano and jazz study
at the Music School. Gunn said Kammerer once heard a tape of Gunn and a
friend performing together, then left him with an odd compliment.
``He said: `What are you doing here?' '' Gunn recounted, a little puzzled
even today. ``I'm pretty sure it was a compliment. I think what he was saying
was that since I was a bass player - and not a symphony player or something
- I should be a rock star and making millions, I guess.''
Gun proves it is indeed a small world after all. He talked about how Crimson
drummer Bill Bruford (also a founding member of Yes) put together an album
with yet another U of O alumni: free jazz multi-instrumentalist Ralph Towner,
who is best known for his work with avant jazz super group Oregon and who
was a classmate of Kammerer's back in the `50s.
But untrue to Kammerer's prophetic words, Gunn isn't exactly a household
name or a rock star cavorting with the likes of The Spice Girls, but he
is slowly growing to become one of the more respected musicians in the fairly
cloistered flock of avant-gardists like Fripp. In many ways, he represents
the newer generation of the Crimson clan, continuing the torch of sonic
space exploration and creativity while his mentors, folks like Adrian Belew,
Levin, Fripp or Mark Isham, continue right alongside him in his journey
into the aesthetic outer limits.
But what is it like to hook up with one of the most vital and creative musicians
in the Western world? Wasn't this like dying and going to heaven?
``I don't know,'' Gunn laughs. ``It really happened so slowly. It wasn't
like I auditioned for King Crimson. By the time the current lineup started
in the early `90s, it didn't come as a surprise that Fripp called me and
asked me to be a part of the new Crimson. But yes, it is really cool being
in this band. I could be in a more financially successful band, but I'm
in one of the most creative bands in the world, certainly in terms of the
sheer musicianship of its players.''
The differences between working with Fripp and working with Sylvian are
interesting ones, according to Gunn. Fripp often appears as a stern, English
schoolmaster on stage, but Gunn says the stage persona and Fripp the person
are very different. ``He's a very dry-humored person,'' Gunn says of Fripp.
``Because he's English. And the older he gets the more English he gets.''
Sylvian was a bit of surprise, it seems. ``He really likes to collaborate,''
Gunn says. ``Which is unusual for a singer. They usually like to work alone.''
The various ProjeKCts now occupy much of Gunn's time, but he says there
will be another Crimson album. He talks about the band slowly getting together
and working on the new ``building blocks of musical vocabulary'' for the
new directions, something which doesn't come easily for one reason or another.
In fact, the rehearsals of the new album resulted in the ProjeKCts, Gunn
said.
In the meantime, Gunn also is a family man now. He has a new son, and during
this phone conversation has found himself fascinated by a broken toy belonging
to his newborn. In the background, there's an intermittent noise of something
rather high in register, making a jarring cluster of notes and sounding
not unlike the dissonant noises Belew makes by stroking the strings on his
guitar head just below the tuning pegs.
As a slightly distracted Gunn explains what he's doing, you can almost hear
the wheels turning in his head. You begin to wonder if you're hearing the
birth of yet another strange effect which will someday appear in Gunn's
work somewhere. ``It's supposed to play a little tune, but it's broken.
So instead it plays all the notes at once.''
Back To Oregon Offbeat(s) Homepage
All contents (c) Andre' Hagestedt