If I were performing in public with King Crimson, then yes, I would be I would be practising at least four hours a day. But at the moment I’m no longer performing in public. There are other things I’m addressing which have greater necessity at the moment: essentially putting my affairs in order . . .

So there are no plans to start King Crimson?

No. When playing at the standard I set myself, it’s ‘Fracture’, ‘Larks’ Tongues in Aspic, Part Four’, ‘Frame by Frame’ – which equates to semi-quavers at 156 to 158 beat a minute … There is a certain kind of playing that is now, I have to accept, a severe challenge. Today I don’t feel it’s necessary for me to perform in public. I do feel it’s necessary for me to work with Guitar Craft students.

— Robert Fripp, interviewed in Uncut Magazine 353, July 2026

When Robert Fripp says “no” directly, he means it. And so, following Fripp’s recovery from a heart attack in 2025 and his milestone 80th birthday this past spring, any hopes King Crimson might reign again on tour or on a new album — the latter the subject of vastly overblown rumors, based on misinterpretations of Jakko Jakszyk’s comments last year — have been officially dashed. (The Uncut interview is well worth seeking out, BTW, as is the mouthwatering covermount CD spanning 60 years of Fripp collaborations with Brian Eno, David Byrne, Andy Summers, and two or three et ceteras.) For Crimson aficionados like me, Fripp’s words invite reluctant, if inevitable closure.

And to be honest, that’s fine. After all, the final incarnation of Crimson (The Seven-or-Eight-Headed-Beast, depending on the tour) was in action for seven years, and the results onstage were often spectacular (as reviewed by yours truly here, here, and here). The latest Crim release, NYC 2014, offers generous servings of the power and passion three drummers, two guitarists, bass/Stick and sax could cook up on classic tunes from the 1970s and more recent ProjecKtions. What’s more, it’s just a taster for a double BluRay set of every single concert from that year, 2014 (The Complete US Tour), coming in the fall. And it’s not as if the archival cupboards are bare, judging by the upcoming multi-format reissue of 1972’s Islands, featuring new Steven Wilson mixes plus the complete surviving sessions. (All these are, of course, available at Burning Shed’s King Crimson store.)

Meanwhile, Fripp’s long time partner-in-Crim Adrian Belew has been chasing his own onstage vision of the band’s 1980s glories with BEAT, barnstorming through Europe this summer and announcing another set of US dates for the fall, with Steve Vai tackling (in Fripp’s words) “Olympic-level” guitar parts and former Zappa/U.K./Missing Persons drummer Terry Bozzio now in Bill Bruford’s chair. Coordinated with BEAT’s European jaunt, Esoteric Recordings has released The Atlantic Years, 1989-1992, collecting three of Belew’s stunning, long out of print solo albums. Mr. Music Head, Young Lions, and Inner Revolution are all remarkable Cubist art-pop, their clear, streamlined sound spacious enough to hold – but never fully contain – Belew’s joyous vocal yelp, wondrously skewed guitar work, eccentrically hooky songwriting and shout-outs aplenty to The Beatles, Motown, Roy Orbison and David Bowie (who duets with Ade on two tracks). Enthusiastically spinning out tall tales and true stories with absurdist glee, mordant wit and an open heart, Belew has rarely been better on his own; this comp is an instant 2026 Favorite, definitely worth your time and money. (Order from Burning Shed.)

But if you crave new music in a Crimson vein, your current best bet is Tu-Ner, which reunites the Double Duo incarnation’s rhythm buddies Trey Gunn and Pat Mastelotto in collaboration with touch guitar wizard Markus Reuter. Recorded live in concert, the trio’s Rendezvous Rodeo is the definition of a heavy, heavy monster sound. This proggy power trio dishes up heaping helpings of Crim Brutale here, riding the fine line between precision instrumentals and loose, full-on improv; “Cusp” slams, “The Mechanical Bride Wore Static” floats, “Absinthe and a Cracker” bounces funkily along. Add in Gunn/Mastelotto flashbacks from Fripp’s alliance with David Sylvain (“Firepower”) and turn-of-the-century KC (“Larks’ Tongues in Aspic, Part IV” and “Level Five”, both stretching out to delve new depths of lowering menace), and you see where Crimson might have gone if given time beyond The Power to Believe. (Reuter and Mastelotto have also teamed up with Tony Levin for the upcoming Stick Men album Let’s Thrak Again, out next month, which promises to mine a similarly dark, rich sonic vein.)

What all these releases point to is King Crimson’s continuing impact. Across five-and-a-half decades, Fripp, Belew and their many compatriots have consistently striven to be present in those ineffable moments when (again in Fripp’s words) “Music leans over and takes us into its confidence”. Given the evidence gathered here, their instincts have proven sound, their connection with the muse ongoing, innovative and rewarding. Though the entity Fripp sensed in that 1969 London rehearsal room seems to have finally taken its leave, its track record remains, and its influence continues on wherever curious players gather together, just to see what might happen.

Thanks to friend and fellow lover of music Cedric Hendrix for providing essential context and encouragement for this post. His blog Cirdec Songs is unmissable, especially if you adore new weird, wild stuff! Also, hats off to Tommy James and the Shondells via Joan Jett for inspiring the title: only the first of the truly terrible puns running through this riff on The Mighty Crim.

— Rick Krueger