In which Fripp is at his most poppy and (arguably) most playful, another step in the transition from the 1970s King Crimson, through his first solo album, to the re-configured 1980s Crimso.
From the cover through the spoken-word "indiscretions" that bookend the album to the music itself, everything is light and witty — quite the opposite of the portentous poses and titles that King Crimson used to come up with. In fact the track titles were, I'm sure, one of the things that attracted me in the first place. I studied social psychology just so that I could find out what "cognitive dissonance" meant (reader, save yourself the trouble: it's less interesting than it sounds). Anyway, even the minimalist experimental tracks — the Pareto Optimums and Ochre — have a daft simpleton humour about them.
There's no singing at all on the album, so, to leaven the instrumentals, Fripp adds sample spoken word vocals. Most evident among these are excerpts from the lectures and discussions of J.G. Bennett, whose courses in spiritual development Fripp followed for a year or so in the '70s and whose teachings still seem to influence him. But there are also recordings of a dumb record industry manager, and several exchanges on topics such as dancing, brain and body, youth and ageing in 'rock culture'. Are the discussants members of the band? There seem to be at least two women involved, while there is only one (the great Sara Lee) in the band. What we trainspotters really need is a full citation of all speakers. And by 2015, I bet there will be just such a reference available on the net — provided Mr Fripp is willing to divulge his sources.
Instrumentally I can't think of another album that features Fripp's guitar matched with some full-on organ playing. It sounds so good that I wish there were more.
In common with a minority of the covers of my 20-year-old records, this one has developed small brown blotches on the back, like liver spots. But, unlike liver spots, I don't think these are down to exposure to the sun. Moisture more likely. Do you get these with your record covers? Anything I can do to (a) remedy this or (b) prevent further blotching?
Oh, one final thing: "The League of Gentlemen". Where did that name come from? Years ago I saw the 1960 film of the same title, but could detect nothing in it that might have led to Fripp and pals adopting it as a band name. (I have a similar frustration with the multiple opaque references in song to Cable Hogue.)
 MusicBrainz entry for this album
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