Performing on the BEAT tour, from left: Tony Levin, Steve Vai, Adrian Belew and Danny Carey
In the three-plus decades rock guitarist Adrian Belew has lived in the Nashville area, he has never played a set of his own music at the Ryman Auditorium. But that will change on Monday, Oct. 28, when the BEAT tour, which celebrates the music of 1980s King Crimson, makes a stop at the Mother Church.
“I’ve played at the Ryman twice in my whole life, and both times they were for events,” Belew tells the Scene during a recent phone interview. “It’s an honor to play there, especially if you’ve lived in Nashville for 30 years.”
Belew first made a name for himself as an innovative guitar-slinger for the likes of David Bowie, Talking Heads — and Frank Zappa, who discovered Belew in 1976 playing with a cover band at a club in Nashville. But he is best known for the 25 solo albums he’s released over the last 40 years and his 32 years as frontman, guitarist and principal songwriter for King Crimson. It’s his work with the latter that led to the BEAT tour and his upcoming appearance at the Ryman.
Pioneering guitarist Robert Fripp founded King Crimson in 1968, and they were a pillar of English progressive rock until they dissolved in 1974. In December 1980, he invited Belew to join a new group he was starting with Crimson drummer Bill Bruford. The band, which also included bassist and Chapman Stick player Tony Levin, had its first rehearsal in early 1981.
“Robert said, ‘Let’s get together with some guys I know and play and see what happens,’” recalls Levin, who had previously done some recording and touring with Fripp. “I had a remarkable, memorable afternoon in downtown New York meeting two guys — Adrian and Bill — that I didn’t know before that, and didn’t know their playing. Suddenly I’m in an ensemble where everybody but me has a unique sound and a unique approach to music and sounds different than every other player on their instrument. And I could see my work was cut out for me.”
Levin is being modest here. His work with the group was cutting-edge.
“When Tony came into that room that day and pulled out a Chapman Stick and started playing,” says Belew, “there was no question that he was the perfect person, but also that he was way ahead of us.”
At the suggestion of some fellow musicians, Levin began playing the Stick, which has 10 to 12 strings that are made to be tapped, in the mid-’70s.
“I played the bass sometimes with a hammer-on technique or touch style, and suddenly there’s this instrument designed to be played that very way.” Levin recalls.
For Belew, the quartet was a chance to step out of the shadow of the musical heavyweights he’d been playing with during the previous four years.
“It was now my turn to try to figure out something to do, not just play what other people do,” the guitarist says. One thing he discovered was how to make his guitar sound like an elephant, which he unveiled in “Elephant Talk,” the opening track on their debut album.
“If you make a sound like that, it's just a gimmick,” says the guitarist. “Unless you put it in a song, and then it has a place to live.”
Originally, the quartet was to be called Discipline and even did a few performances under that name in the U.K. and Europe. As Americans, however, Belew and Levin didn’t love the name and expressed that to Fripp. Prior to the release of their debut album, also called Discipline, they decided to go with a different name for the band.
“One day Robert said, ‘Whatever we call this band, in spirit, it is King Crimson,’” Belew recalls. “And then one of us, I believe it might have been me, said, ‘Well, then why don’t we call it that?’ Because, you know, King Crimson had such a wonderful history, and it was way more important than a name you never heard of.”
The revamped Crimson lineup built on that history with a trio of albums in the early ’80s — 1981’s Discipline, 1982’s Beat and 1984’s Three of a Perfect Pair — that featured exceptional musicianship. They also expanded the boundaries of prog into new musical territories, bringing funk, minimalism and world music into the mix.
Belew first had the idea for a tour to celebrate the 40th anniversary of those three albums five years ago, and began developing the concept with producer Angelo Bundini, who produces the Celebrating David Bowie concerts. Belew reached out to Fripp, who gave the idea his blessing, but declined to participate because of other commitments. Levin was on board, but Bruford had retired from performing, so they needed to find a drummer and a second guitarist.
“First of all, we’d have to find someone who could take Robert’s seat, and the only person I could think of was Steve Vai,” Belew says. “Not only for his guitar prowess and ability, but also because I had read an interview years ago in which he claimed how much he loved Robert’s playing and those three records in particular.”
Vai quickly accepted the invitation to join Belew and Levin, but then the pandemic hit. When planning for the tour resumed, they had completed the lineup with Tool drummer Danny Carey, who had sat in with King Crimson a few times in the past.
“I knew [Carey] very well personally, and knew that he was the perfect person to take Bill's seat,” Belew says. “Bill was his hero, and he always said those three records changed his musical life.”
It was Fripp who suggested they call the tour BEAT.
“He said, ‘What do you think you want to call this?’” Belew explains. “And I said, ‘I don’t know. What do you think?’ And he said, ‘BEAT.’ … ‘Discipline’ had been used by him many, many times, and ‘Three of a Perfect Pair’ had been used by me and Tony and Pat Mastelotto for our annual King Crimson band camp for 13 years. So he chose ‘BEAT,’ and that stuck.”
Since the tour kicked off in September, it has been going well, garnering sold-out crowds and rave reviews.
“I knew that there was at least some audience waiting for it,” Belew says. “I did not think that it would be what it’s turned out to be. This has been an explosion that’s just unbelievable to all of us. It’s so great — the turnouts and the enthusiasm from everyone. Looking back on it now, I don’t think we had any inkling that we were making something that was going to later on be called some kind of watermark in music or whatever.”
