Originally Posted by
unclemeat
Not within my experience. On the other hand, sometimes he might have been a bit too quiet.
To return to the current topic : the dry hint of a curt nod, while being a means of deferring judgment, is sometimes too imprecise. It might rather be a means of avoiding saying anything nice. Excessive concision sometimes misses the mark entirely. The essence of all grandiloquent discourse is disproportion. It is not always a matter of being emphatic. One can also be heavily expressive, and therefore disclose more than one wishes, by saying far too little, using stereotypes, or conceding less than is deserved.
This is a common fault of certain "spiritual persons", for example the puritan cold fish persuaded of doing you good by never "feeding your vanity". For them, overt pleasantness - like laughter, as described by the devil in C.S. Lewis' Screwtape Letters - "is of itself disgusting and a direct insult to the realism, dignity, and austerity of Hell".
Discrimination is a fine art, and aptly expressed "good criticism" is extremely rare : it is able to put the reader in medias res, as it were. It is not a substitute for the actual experience of course, nor a faithful description of "what it's like", nor an honest and precise inventory of "just the facts, ma'am". Like a good haiku, discrimination can provide, briefly and sideways, a feel for the reality of its object. If any.
There is such a "spot on" fresh observation in this review : "while the subsequent Larks' Tongues In Aspic band would ultimately garner the reputation as Crimson's most improv-heavy (and, for many, best) lineup, this [Islands lineup] was, indeed, [King Crimson] at its most unfettered and experimental..." They were not afraid of letting their trousers down. Sadly they never played 'Moonchild'.
The 1969 Crimson's improvisations (what little is known of them) seemed intent on destroying something, a tabula rasa with a touch of perversity, "an attack on culture" à la Derek Bailey and cohorts. In 1971-72, they were rather a humorous attempt to construct something unstable. Hence the jazz feel. A seeming desire to build something solid, to "tell the truth", even to "compose" on the fly, has since then prevailed.
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