Of all the great prog-era dinosaurs still roaming the earth, Robert Fripp's 46-year-old art-rock institution has remained the most committed to reinvention. Every time the group reemerges—e.g., in its fierce, angular early-’70s incarnation, or its sleekly modernized early-’80s one—it's typically a butterfly-from-a-cocoon situation. Word has it that there's no fresh material in the works this time around, but the debut of a three-drummer septet lineup (dubbed a Seven-Headed Beast by Fripp) is news in and of itself. All hail.
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