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And then he walked along the edge of the Circle

This is the place where we will post your stories about the Green's Playhouse, The Glasgow Apollo and Satelitte City (The Wee Apollo). As it develops we will break the stories up into sections such as Myths, Gigs I missed, Meeting the Bands, Where are they now etc. No story too trivial and we will only edit out bad language!

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Comments on King Crimson [reply]
 
Whilst this was to be my third ever concert (I'd already seen Yes at the Kelvin Hall and been to the Grangemouth Festival - Beck, Bogart and Appice were the headliners and Status Quo, Lindisfarne, Steeleye Span and Billy Connolly were also on the bill, in the September of that year), it was my first ever at the Green's Playhouse.  We went into the stalls in row Q (still got the ticket) and the first thing that struck me about the place was it's sheer size - it was absolutely huge inside and you didn't really get a true sense of that from outside.  I was then hit by it's even then dilapitated grandeur.

It was all a little overwhelming for a a rather naive 16 year old.  I'm sure this really wasn't the case, and I guess there must have been some women in there, but everyone else seemed to be male, have really long hair and be wearing either the regulation combat jacket and/or Levi denim jacket.

I can't recall the support act at all, but I do remember it seeming to take an absolute eternity between him leaving the stage and King Crimson coming on.  In between times, the good natured audience kept themselves amused by periodically shouting out the name "Wally" at the top of their voices and apparently to nobody in particular.  To this day, I still don't know what that was all about. All the while an army of similarly long-haired roadies to-ed and fro-ed off and onto the stage in complete darkness, occasionally bellowing out the proverbial "one two, one two" into the crackling PA system, which was playing on what seemed to be permanent repeat, what I now know to be "The Heavenly Musical Corporation" from Fripp and Eno's then yet to be released album "No Pussyfooting".
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Eventually, the band emerged from the shadows and the familiar bell-tinkling introduction to "Lark's Tongues Part I" could be heard.  I was transfixed.  The rest of the show passed me by in a bit of a blur, though I do recall Jamie Muir, the band's percussionist/drummer roaming the stage in what appeared to be a bear-skin, relentlessly banging the stage with some chains and I still can see in my mind's eye Robert Fripp, who until then had been perched on a stool at the side of the stage and had not said a word, walking to the centre of the stage before the last number and saying something along the lines of "The songs you have heard in chronological order have been....", before returning from whence he had came and tearing into "Lark's Tongues Part II".

I'm sure that they encored with "21st Century Schizoid Man", but I'm equally sure that we had to leave before the end and bomb down Renfield Street to catch the last train back home to East Kilbride.

In the intervening 32 years I've seen and heard much better gigs, but nothing will ever compare to the impact that that first show in Green's Playhouse had upon me
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