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Another decade passes and here another chance to buy those albums that have influenced your younger years. Nostalgia is a wonderful thing and it has the astounding ability to part a fool from his money just with one twinkle of his nefarious eye.

But I digress, the reason I purchased this album was not for a misty-eyed look back at my late teenage years when I first became aware of this record, but because I was interested to hear how they processed this record for a surround-sound audience. This "new" edition features a 5.1 surround mix by Steven Wilson, a fellow I have a lot of respect in the mixing department, and this review will be concerned with this and not the new stereo mix of the album, which is also featured in the package.

Lots and lots and lots of faces...

The album comes in a cardboard sleve that holds two plastic trays, which fits a little too snugly inside a slipcase. The first test of the listener is to see how they can remove product from its protective packaging. Simple tip: hold the edges lightly and abruptly move the set forwards as if you are trying to get the last dribbles of ketchup from the bottom of the glass bottle.

The album comes with a nice booklet featuring pictures of the band in action from the time and there are a couple of pix I wasn't that familiar with, which makes this collection stand out a little from the other releases. Robert Fripp writes some sleeve notes about the life and times of this band, but his notes feel a little downbeat compared to his previous writings about this period. The second part of the booklet is taken up with the obligatory Sid Smith "Official Mouth of CrimsonTM" take on this incarnation of the band. After a decade of reading Sid's enthusiastic and engaging scribblings with the various other releases and DGM Club releases, I began to lose consciousness. This isn't a poke at Sid, I was just hoping for another voice or maybe some further commentary from Broof, Wetton or Cross. But this is a minor niggle in a rather classy package.

The first track to grace my surround system is the title track. A solid slab of instrumental guitar-based prog. The one word review would be: dense and this pulls up my main issue with this album actually being released in 5.1 surround. Red is just a dense record by nature that there is very little space for the music to move and in terms of dynamic spread, might as well have been recorded in mono.

Here Wilson puts the audience in the middle of the studio and it works in a way. There's little else for him to do really because the instrumentation is so dense. It's a great mix, but you tend to wonder why did they bother because this music doesn't need to put the listener in the middle. It is a juggernaut ready to run you down. But the clarity is there and you can hear everything...and that's a good thing, I guess.

The mix of Fallen Angel show the limitations of the recordings of the time, for while the instrumentation is bright and dynamic and lends itself more to the surround format, John Wetton sounds as if he has a sock in his mouth, the flat reverb on his vocals just sits badly in this mix. I guess there's little anyone could have done about this now, but while it works on the original mix, the vocals just sound odd in this lovely wide mix. Those of you who love Fripp's acoustic work and his use of harmonics will be able to pick out his fine work here.

One More Red Nightmare is a revelation because you get to hear a lot of little flourishes that were buried in the original stereo mix and it really works here. The same can be said of the "Providence" track, a song originally recorded live and put out on the album with any audience noise removed. In this context, you can hear the "life" of the song, such is the quality of the original recordings you can almost hear the air move around the audience. This track probably benefits the most from the surround mix, but there is a problem. Either I've put my ears on the wrong way around this morning, but it sounded to me as if Robert Fripp's guitar had been mixed to the left and David Cross's violin had been mixed to the right, when the converse should have happened. I sound like the Comic Book Guy from the Simpsons when I go over such details, but this isn't the first time Fripp and his pals at DGM have fudged the mix (similar cock-ups appear on the original prints of the Eyes Wide Open DVD and Neal Jack and Me DVD). I am hoping that I am in the wrong and that this was meant to be. But this is a niggle too as it sounds really good.

The crowning achievement of this record, or possible this incarnation of the band, has to be the closing track Starless. Here the slow majesty of the song builds up, mellotrons tastefully mixed to the rear and the instruments given plenty of space in the mix. I felt that there needed to be a little extra clout in the bass department as most of the bottom frequencies appeared to be take up with Broof's bass drum. But the saxes sound sweet and there's some great separation for the oboe too. If you love this song, then this is the best way you are ever going to hear it!

On the DVD, you also get the legendary ORTF Melody broadcast did band did back in the day and features four tracks from that period. Again, seeing Starless performed live is another reason to buy this alone.

There are also a number of extra surround mixes and a high-resolution stereo track for you to explore, making this package pretty definitive. Hey, they should have called this the "Definitive Edition". Oh no, they did that back in 1990s!

Overall: well worth the cash.

Now I have fond memories of the ABWH period of music. For those of you who don’t know or who have absolutely no knowledge of progressive rock music, this band was the bastard offspring from the Yes franchise in the late 1980s, which had floundered both commercially and creatively. With lead singer Jon Anderson conning ex-Yes and King Crimson dummer, Bill Bruford, to come play some drums on his solo album, an interesting franchise was creating. With the band name sounding a lot like a local solicitors, the first album offered a lot of promise. OK – some of it was a little sweet and sickly thanks to Anderson’s input, but as a whole, the album is quite robust when compared to others of that period. And for once it was a progressive rock album that actually had a smile on its face, rather than frowning earnestly and asking you to marvel at the musicianship.

So the best memory was getting excited about going to see the band at Wembley Arena and it was the first time that I had ever been to a gig. It was also the first gig me and the Missus attended together and it was a rather stonking night. I got to watch my favourite rhythm section (Bill Bruford and Tony Levin, both of King Crimson) working out and to hear some old Yes classics that I thought I’d never hear played live. It was a good night, apart from me slipping on some spilt beer (not my own, I didn’t drink back then) and falling down the stairs during “Heart of the Sunrise” as I attempted a quick toilet break. Ouch! Also, my English teacher Mr Bailey was also a fan and he attended the concerts, though I found it a little embarrassing to talk prog rock in the class in front of frowning, disapproving peers. (Mind you, this was the guy who used to quote King Crimson lyrics and give me the wink during lessons too…so it was a really progtastic period of my life!)

In terms of merchandise, there was a video EP released called “In the Big Dream” that documented the recording process for the album, which was put together at the recording studios in Montserrat, and included a couple of promotional videos too. A few years after all this, a concert was released on video as a limited edition and I was lucky to pick this up and it is the same concert that I am reviewing here.

Voiceprint, a company that specialises in reviving old classics back from the dead and the obscurity of deletion, saw fit to release this concert in its entirety and bring out a 2 DVD edition that also includes “In the Big Dream” as a bonus. Of course, being a fan and deserving of a couple of hours of sweet nostalgia, I snapped it up. The concert itself is a surprisingly good transfer, however there’s nothing in the way of a surround sound mix or anything. But despite this, the music sounds fresh and clean. The concert itself starts with each member of the band doing his party piece until they are all on stage and then the fun begins with cuts from the ABWH interspersed with some well chosen songs from the Classic Yes period. The only downside to this performance is that Tony Levin is missing due to illness, replaced by Jeff Berlin.

In terms of quality, I thought this was a good upgrade to my old VHS edition, but my one bugbear was that the concert was split over two discs (ever heard of dual layer, Voiceprint?) and the original introduction was tacked on as an extra on the second disc, completely out of sequence. This original opening showed Jon Anderson as he walked to the concert explaining that he was going to appear in the middle of the audience and start singing. OK, so its not THAT important, but when I saw it originally, it really added to the sense of excitement and anticipation. Now, it is resigned to an outtake on the second disc, which seems a bit stupid. Either keep it in or cut it out, no?

My other major grip is the quality of the “In the Big Dream” video EP. There have been edits made to this and the video quality is bordering on awful. It is actually worse that my old VHS because it is obvious that they’ve taken a PAL VHS source and recoded to NTSC, rendering the colours muted and washed out. The sound is also awful. On my old VHS, there was a recording error during one of the songs and the sound is spiked by a tape wobble. Guess what? The same error occurs on this DVD, so obviously the tape was from the same source. Gee – I could have just dubbed my VHS to DVD and saved myself the trouble.

On one hand, this is really great for those who have never owned the original VHS, but for those of use die-hard fans who have the tapes and the T-shirts and the novelty blow-up Steve Howe dolls, you might be a bit disappointed with the quality of the “extras”. It really is a game of two halves. But saying that, for the money, it was nice to wallow in the warm glow of nostalgia with The Missus and feel really, really old.

“The order of the Universe, the order of the Universe…”

Indeed!

For even more information, go to http://www.abwhdvd.com/

And here's a little video sample for you:

It seems I am jinxed. Someone out there has been busy with needles and wax effigy or has thrown a dark hex my way. "How so?" I hear you ask. Well it all began when I stepped into my local tube station with the intention of getting to the gig on time. I had left early, so that I could meet up with the Missus and have a bite to eat at one of those snazzy eateries on the South Bank, before tootling onto see Peter Hammill in concert. However, my Spidey-senses tingled as soon as I hit the station and the word "delays" echoed over the PA system.

What should have been a simple, 60 minute journey was stretched out beyond all recognition. Travelling from Debden to Stratford, which normally takes about 25 minutes, turned into a 90 minute marathon with the driver apologising profusely for there being signal failures at Bethnal Green. The problem with that bottleneck of the Central is that you are stuffed until you get to Stratford as there are no connecting trains, so I stood in cramped carriage and swallowed it down. I'll be honest with you, I don't like the Underground. I know it is a bit wimpy, but there's something I just don't like about the UK tube network. I always think it is on the edge of collapse and when we get stuck in a tunnel for a long period of time, my bowels begin to churn. But enough of the details, eh?

So when I did eventually get to The Missus, all hopes of having something to eat were out of the window and it was just a matter of walking to the venue and taking our seats. I was in a bad mood and didn't particularly want to be there - my nerves were shot by the prolonged tube fiasco and I wanted a drink. Yes, I wanted a drink real bad. But I never drink before a gig as I believe music should be received untainted by alcohol, so I was very tetchy.

In this tour, Hammill was accompanied by violinist Stuart Gordon and I was interested in hearing how it would turn out as I hadn't had the chance to pick up their collaboration "Veracious". Tracks like a "A Better Time", "Driven" and "Bubble" were stripped down and arranged in such a way that there was plenty of space for Gordon to fill in with his violin. I am not entirely sure if this approach worked. I mean those guys are great performers, but some of it just didn't work for me and didn't engage my senses. The only time things really started to get electric was during a harrowing performence of "Like Veronica", a song about spousal abuse, which really went for the jugular. An old classic "The Birds" elicited whoops from the audience and I was particularly pleased when Hammill performed "Stranger Still" as the final song. It's one of my favourites, but again the rearrangement jarred me, but all came good in the end. There was one encore with "A Way Out" and it was all over. While I thought it was an interesting night of music, I did find myself feeling slightly underwhelmed by the proceedings. Hammill, I felt, was a little off and a little sloppy in the guitar/piano department and Gordon's violin, while sweet and soaring in places, began to grate after a while. Again, this is no slur on their performance, I just think a whole evening of this configuration is difficult listening, which can be a good thing sometimes. I guess my tube troubles had clouded my musical brain, which upset me.

After the show (yes, Hammill performed that song too), we headed out into the night and The Missus want to eat. Again, my Spidey-senses were tingling and, much to her annoyance, I insisted we went straight home. Good job too, because the tube was still up shit creek without a paddle. First there was the "Passenger Action" on the Jubilee Line (yes, those are two words you don't want to hear on the Tube), so we hopped off and diverted to Bank station. There we waited ages for a train to Leytonstone, then had to wait there for a connecting train heading to Epping, which was another 20 minute wait. By the time we got home, it was 11.50pm and we'd left the concert at 9.30! The Missus remarked that in total, I had been travelling nearly four and a half hours on the Tube that evening for a round trip of less than two...

You've got to laugh, ain't ya?

Here's something different. I thought I'd start doing some retrospective reviews and today I just happened to decide on putting these two records on my MP3 player while I walked Alex the Wonderdog.

The first rock band I ever got into was Queen. I think it might have had something to do with my raising in the 1970s and listening to Radio One over breakfast and hearing the hits of the band played with frightening regularity. Neither of these albums were my first proper Queen purchase - that honour goes to "Greatest Hits" and then "The Works".

Queen - Queen

I listened to this album today and it was the first time I had given it a spin in a couple of years. I managed to bag a cheap version of "The Crown Jewels" boxset a few years back which contains a remastered version of this album. Instantly, the opening chords of "Keep Yourself Alive" took me back to being a withdrawn 13-year-old and the many times I had spun this album in my bedroom. In those days, I never bought LPs, preferring tapes. The reason for this was that our old house in Alber Road was so damp that in a matter of weeks, any LP was reduced to a crackly mess. So cassette tape was my weapon of choice and I can still remember buying Queen on cassette.

I was on a family holiday to Jersey in the Channel Islands with my grandparents. They always took me away during the majority of my teenage years and I purchased the cassette in Boots The Chemist in King Street for £3.05. This was at the beginning of a two-week holiday and I didn't have a Walkman and the longing to hear the tape was burning a hole in my ears. My nan suggested that I should ask the Portuguese family who ran the hotel we were staying to play the tape over their PA system, so that I could listen to it. But I was too shy to ask and I waited until we got home.

Good job I did as the tape itself had been loomed into the casing the wrong way, meaning that on playback you heard the whole thing backwards. Subliminal messages ahoy! But this meant I had no album and there were no other large Boots The Chemists in the locality that sold music. So I had a further wait until we had a family day-out at Southend where my mum exchanged the tape for a fresh, working copy. Aahhhh, the good old days - I waited about five weeks to hear that album. Now we can download music at the click of a mouse - but you try and tell the younger generation and they won't believe you!

So back to the review. The first Queen album is the sound of a young band trying to find themselves - it is incredibly rough in places, but I think that adds to the charm. Some of the ideas are just "out there" - "My Fairy King" for example, though I've always loved "Great King Rat" as it reminded me of my own errant father and shared the same birthday and sentiment. What always captured my imagination is the playout of the proto-demo version of "Seven Seas of Rhye". I was already familiar with the proper version, but how amazing was this band that they put a preview of a future song at the end of an album. That was just brilliant in my book.

There's a lot to like about "Queen" and what it lacks in production, it makes up for in charm and sheer energy. Some of the songs on this are better served on the "Live at the Beeb" album that was released in the early 1990s, but it is an important record, especially if you listen to it back to back with its successor.

Queen II

This is a completely different prospect. Here is a record by a band that now has confidence and a vision of what it wants to achieve in the studio. But is this a progressive rock record? I think it is because there is some kind of concept behind it, from the Black/White sides to the song cycle on the second side that starts with an "Ogre Battle" and ends with "Funny How Love Is". I can't get over just how good this record is. You can even hear the conception of the Queen sound shaping before your ears - with "The Fairy Fellers Master-Stroke" and "The March of the Black Queen" showing that the band were interested in creating walls of operatic sound and not afraid to screw about with the stereo field. Get your hands off than pan control, Deacon! And it finishes with a fully realised "Seven Seas of Rhye" - its almost as if the first album was a dry-run for this, the real deal.

What's great when you listen to these two classic albums together is that you can actually hear the band growing and that's quite unusual in rock. Usually bands break onto the scene fully fledged and its not until you listen to their fourth or fifth subsequently released platter than you detect any development. But with these two records its a steady progression which continues onto "Sheer Heart Attack" and culminates in their magnum opus "A Night at the Opera". It's really tough, but with the benefit of retrospect, I am beginning to think that Queen II might just be my favourite record of theirs purely because of the embyonic ideas within.

Again, there are bits of this album that are truly brilliant, like the opening instrumental "Procession" where Brian May manages to coax a tone from his guitar the likes of which have never been heard of before. It is earthy and kind of alien, but provides a suitable introduction to the crashing "Father to Son" - a song that always has an effect on me (or any song dealing with fathers and sons, for that matter). I like the way that the first side is more of a classic rock album before every wigs out with the backwards experimental nightmare that starts side two and "Ogre Battle", a song that delights with every listen - can you hear the ogre ripping the man's arms off. Great!

The final song cycle on the record is just inspired and the level of detail and the amount of ideas bouncing around truly are a portent of things to come. The next thing you know the record is over and you are wanting more. And then there's the iconic cover from Mick Rock where Freddie and the band do a Dietrich. A bona fide classic.

For my peers, the defining movie of their childhood is probably “Star Wars”. For me, it was the original “Superman – The Movie”. Being taken to see the movie at the ABC fleapit cinema near Baker’s Arms in Leyton (which was subsequently closed in the eighties and turned from B&Q DIY store to a Kwik Save supermarket) was one of the few promises my father managed to keep. He had promised to take me to see the aforementioned “Star Wars” and I was very excited. He worked at British Caledonian as an air steward and so he wasn’t always around – sometimes there were weeks between him flying off around the world and coming home again. That particular summer he made his promise and I had told my schoolfriends, but when we made it to the cinema in Walthamstow, the queue was deemed to long and the wait too much for him and so we turned away, a trip to the local toy shop was to be my treat instead. My heart was broken and I subsequently tried my best to lie about seeing the film and cribbed the plot from the “Star Wars Weekly” comic that was published at the same time. The only problem with that was the comic was based on the first draft of the “Star Wars” shooting script and there were several scenes in the publication that weren’t in the film. I soon learnt never to lie.

But for me, “Superman – The Movie” was special. We missed the first 15 minutes because of lateness, but once my father was asleep, I didn’t rouse him at the end of the movie and so I got to see the whole film again in its entirety. In those days, you could sit in a movie theatre and watch films over and over again without being moved on. The only downside was that it was the seventies and you had to suffer the fug of cigarette smoke that hung over the screen like a blue mist. The good old days, eh? I don’t think so. But seeing the film was a good memory and even though dear old Dad did a runner a couple of years later and there were many other disappointments along the way, seeing that movie together (even though he slept through most of it) is a memory I treasure. It is a “me and my dad” memory. A rose-tinted attempt at portraying him in a good light.

But, as usual, I am detracting from the main thrust of this piece. When “Superman Returns” was announced, I was a little worried that it would be a bit of a muck up. The film had taken over a decade to get to the screen and likes of Nicholas Cage and Jude Law (among others) had been touted for the lead role. Luckily, Bryan Singer got hold of the project and cast an unknown. Brandon Routh is simply superb as the Man of Steel and those who complain that he looks too young are missing the point completely. He manages to retain the same fresh-faced innocence that the late, great Christopher Reeve brought to the role. Kate Bosworth as Lois Lane also surprised me, as I had been prepared for a disappointment, but her chemistry with Routh overcomes the fact that she doesn’t really nail the hard-bitten hack routine so expertly played by her predecessor Margot Kidder.

The plot is simple: Superman returns after being missing for five years after zipping off to explore the ruins of his homeworld, Krypton, in a desperate attempt to find any survivors. In the time, the world has moved on. Lois Lane, the woman he loves, has moved on, had a child and a fiancé and is nominated for a Pulitzer Prize for her piece entitled: Why the World Doesn’t Need Superman. Au contraire, Ms Lane. The whole film is about why the world needs heroes – not just human heroes who pull off amazing feats of courage or determination or blind faith, but those symbols of good to which we can all relate and aspire. The great thing about Superman is that he isn’t human: he lacks the vanity, the greed, the ego, which makes us such poor imperfect specimens – and all that makes his nemesis Lex Luthor so potent. And Kevin Spacey pulls out a majestic performance as the villain and is genuinely frightening in some of the darker scenes.

A lot of people have complained that there isn’t a plot or it is a bit slow, but that’s what I like about this film. It portrays Superman as a real character and there’s bag of character development and despite its 2 ½ hour length, I loved every minute of it. The set action pieces are just breath taking and when Superman takes a Kryptonite-induced kicking, you’ll be grimacing at his pain through clenched teeth. The special effects are just out of this world and the CG stuff is invisible. I just can’t get over how good it all looked on the screen. Of course, it is a quantum leap away from the original movies, but there’s so many ways this film could have gone completely wrong, but Bryan Singer has done a sterling job. I thought that this was a truly brilliant rendering of the character and a magnificent restart to the series.

The final scenes, which I won’t reveal because it will give away the plot, had me choked up. I realise that the Superman movies is essentially a father-and-son piece with Kal-El trying to find his way in a universe without his father and just doing the best he can. This sentiment was echoed in that final scene and was very emotive for me. When the movie was over and the Missus asked me what I thought, I genuinely couldn’t reply as I was literally choked with emotion. It took me a good ten minutes to get over the experience and I know this is sad because it is just a superhero story, but it pulled those emotional strings that run invisibly through us and returned me to that seven-year-old walking out the ABC in Leyton with his father. And sons, even Superman, need their fathers.

I remember when the revitalised Pink Floyd was originally touring to support “A Momentary Lapse of Reason” and I didn’t have enough cash to buy tickets. Several years later nothing had changed and I still couldn’t afford to see them at Earls Court as part of “The Division Bell” tour. Part of me isn’t that bothered because when you see a modern Pink Floyd gig, you know what you are going to get. Strong visuals, music that’s almost identical to the record and a very corporate live experience. You are worshipping at the shrine of Pink Floyd Ltd – now buy a T-shirt, if you know what I mean. This isn't necessarily a bad thing (afterall U2 have refined the experience to an art form now) but it's not for me.

When the original P.U.L.S.E. album and VHS came out, I skipped it. I’d already got the “Delicate Sound of Thunder” album and didn’t need yet another turgid live Floyd experience. I know this sounds harse, but while I love PF on record, their later live performances always leave me a little cold compared to their hey-day in the 1970s - even "The Wall" can grate after a while. So when the P.U.L.S.E. DVD was announced I was a little non-plussed and not exactly clamouring for a copy. I wasn’t even planning on buying it, but it came my way via a treat from the Missus – unbeknownst to her, she got it for me the same day it was announced founder member Syd Barrett had died, so there was a little uneasy synchronicity going on.

The performance is spread over two discs and I must admit, I did enjoy the proceedings. It brought back memories of the PF Venice concert I’ve got on tape, but this time around the band were more relaxed and there seemed to be a little more charisma coming across, which is difficult because David Gilmour doesn't always come across as a great frontman. Consummate guitarist - yes, front man - no.

The first disc opens with “Shine On You Crazy Diamond”, which made for tough viewing after hearing of Syd’s demise – before it was a raise-your-glass-in-fond-memory kind of song, but now it had turned into an elegy. The rest of the disc plods along with a lot of post-Waters material, which is OK – but I only have time for “Learning to Fly” and “Take It Back” – the rest just washes over me in a laser light enhanced fug. It’s only when you get to the second disc when I began to enjoy the performance as the band plays the entire “Dark Side of the Moon” album and it works surprisingly well, despite the lack of Roger Waters. The visuals and stage effects enhance the music and I really began to get into it – even though it still is a rather plodding affair. Even "The Great Gig in the Sky" was a much better executed affair compared to that Venice gig I caught on TV. The last three songs on disc two are “Wish You Were Here” – again turned into a elegy now after the sad news about Syd – “Comfortably Numb” which features some great stage craft towards the end which really caught my attention and “Run Like Hell” which is the standard closer during the Gilmour-era.

OK – so I wasn’t totally impressed by the twelve-year-old concert - it's a little bit anonymous, a little lacking in spontaneity and just a little bit "so what?" in my books, but where P.U.L.S.E. comes into its own is the quality and quantity of material included in the set. Not only has the picture been enhanced so it looks as if the gig was shot yesterday, but the sound is crystal clear – there’s not much in the way of 5.1 Surround Sound juiciness but you do get a lot of the sound effects panned to the rear speakers. All the extra material is split over the two discs, so each one needs to be explored fully. You get all the mini-films that are projected on the screen on the main stage for your perusal (including live sound track), tour material including maps and itinerary, music videos for “Learning to Fly” and “Take It Back” (but not one for High Hopes, funnily enough), album cover art, a performance of “Wish You Were Here” with Billy Corgan from the Smashing Pumpkins and a little tour film made by one of the road crew. In all, for your money, you get four hours of material in the package. For the fan it is a treasure trove to explore, even if like me you don’t like the main feature a great deal. However, I must admit I was a little underwhelmed by the packaging as it is just a standard digipak - I was expecting some kind of pulsing light or laser show as I opened the box to retreive the DVDs!

It’s a no-brainer if you are a Pink Floyd fan – buy this set because it represents great value and is a last chance to see this era of the band in action and maybe float away in a nostalgic haze. I'm just a little bit weary of this type of performance, preferring Gilmour's recent stripped down, acoustic solo outings and compared to last year's fifteen minute Pink Floyd performance at Live8, you'll realise why this DVD isn't really Pink Floyd at all, but a surrogate band.

It was never a certainty that we’d attend this performance but the decision was finally made this morning at approximately 9.20am that morning, while walking Alex the Wonderdog, with a toss of the coin and the call of heads signifying that we’d make the 100-mile journey to Norwich. I quite like Norwich as a place, but it had been a while since we’d last paid a visit and because we hadn’t parked in our usual spot, my sense of direction was somewhat “out”.

I knew that Norwich Cathedral was around somewhere, but for the life of me couldn’t get us in the right area. From previous experience, I knew it was close to the old Anglia Television Studios, but my inner radar was so off-kilter, I had to admit I was beaten. Much looking at local visitor’s maps and head scratching ensued. After a brief spell of walking in the completely wrong direction and myself begging the Missus not to ask the locals for directions, I was back on the trail and could see the spire in the distance. The time was 1.25pm. Oh dear, this was going to be an unfortunate and wasted journey if we didn’t get a move on. With sparks literally coming from our heels, we were in the cathedral grounds.

“Just let yourself be drawn to the bleeping and droning,” I joked and as we got closer to one entrance, The Missus cried: “I can hear him.”

Norwich Cathedral: Just follow the bleeping and droning...

True enough, even outside the Cathedral the faint synthetic string sounds could be heard. It was now 1.35pm, we were unfortunately a little late. However, as we walked into Norwich Cathedral, we realised that we weren’t close to the performance at all and were behind the player. It was eerie to hear the sounds of the Churchscapes echo around the ancient stonework and not be able to see the performer or audience. We let ourselves be drawn to the sound and eventually we found the presbytery and I could see the back of Robert Fripp’s head loom into view.

As we were late and we didn’t want to disturb the performance, we took a seat at the edge of the presbytery and this would turn out to be fortuitous later on. From my vantage point, I could clearly see Robert Fripp playing his blonde Fernandes and manipulating the devices in his rack. I was sitting a lot closer to the player than the St Paul’s performance and I found myself being distracted by Fripp making adjustments to his equipment and then listening for a change in the sound.

I looked away. I concentrated on the ornate stonework and the stained glass window directly facing us. The sound was very different to the St Paul’s and the presence seemed a lot more claustrophobic. Whereas St Paul’s had a certain airy atmosphere, the nature of the architecture made this a more ancient experience. The soundscapes being played here were also different. Whereas St Paul’s the performance was almost a showpiece, with a beginning, a middle and a conclusion – this seemed more freeform, more about the music being affected by the environment. Where St Paul’s were blues and golds, this was dense crimsons and deep dark browns. There were lots of string pads and that sweet soloing tone that Fripp is using now. The difference in the acoustics of the two spaces was evident: again, St Paul’s had its own ambience with people moving around the periphery and there seeming to be more space for the sound to move, whereas Norwich Cathedral, despite it size, felt smaller and claustrophobic. The deeper string pads reverberated around the stonework and you could feel them in your chest.

The performance was split into two halves and at about 1.50pm, the man stopped playing and addressed the audience. This made The Missus’s face drop – I could tell that she thought that the performance was over, but I kept the knowledge of RF’s little talks to myself and let her discover that there would be a second half in time. Fripp spoke of his gratitude of being able to playing in churches like Norwich Cathedral, decommissioned churches and even a decommissioned brothel. He thanked Mark Graham personally for organising the performances and then continued.

The second half seemed very similar in tone to the first half, with the dull colours of tone being enhanced by a twinkling surround-sound bell pad. It’s hard to explain, but these soundscapes seemed to be more about the passage of time, rather than moving from point A to point B, like the St Paul’s concert. There was a lot more soloing and multi-tracked/looped soloing too. I was really pleased that it was so different as I had previously worried that it would be a re-run of the previous performance I had been witness to.

At the end of this Churchscape, he put his guitar down, got his bag and said a brief thank-you to his support staff and the audience. He then began to leave. Before I could move myself, he was heading straight towards The Missus and myself. I was already grinning inanely and didn’t want to avert my gaze, in case this would have been considered rude, so I just sat there and grinned at him. Fripp looked right into my face and gave a big smile himself. Then I realised, quite sadly, that I was a total and utter fan…Is there no hope for me?

The Missus commented that the old Frippster had a really nice, modest smile and that he should smile more often. I was too busy giggling like a schoolgirl, happy to have witnessed another great Churchscapes performance and a feeling too much like a fanboy for my own liking. For my sins, I donated a crisp £10 note into the collection box as we left and took in the beauty of the Cathedral and its grounds.

Yours truly, praying in the cloisters, hoping that I'm not a slavering fan-boy

Click here for my review of Robert Fripp at St Paul's Cathedral.