In the late 1960s, the psychedelic rock era bled gradually into the prog-rock wave. In many ways, prog was to psych what post-punk was to punk: more convoluted, often more macabre and a little longer lasting. Although The Beatles arguably began the prog wave with some of their post-Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band records the transition from psych rock to prog rock was best represented by bands like Pink Floyd and King Crimson.

For their part, Pink Floyd migrated from the cosmic oddities of Syd Barrett’s songwriting to the more tangible, earthly concepts of Roger Waters. Meanwhile, King Crimson, alongside the likes of Jethro Tull and Genesis, became one of the first quintessential progressive rock collectives with a nuanced blend of classical, jazz, folk, heavy metal, gamelan, blues, industrial, electronic and experimental music.

King Crimson formed in 1968 in London from the ashes of a short-lived Dorset group named Giles, Giles and Fripp. The remaining duo was joined by guitarist and vocalist Greg Lake following the departure of Peter Giles. The band took its name from a note found in co-founding member Peter Sinfield’s lyric book. It has been suggested that the name originated from the historical term Beelzebub, which casts satan as the “crimson king,” an evil and deceitful leader.

The supposedly satanic name is befitting of the group’s oft angst-ridden and unsettling concepts, which joined The Rolling Stones’ ‘Sympathy for the Devil’ in deconstructing the hippie dream ready for the sobering ’70s. Incidentally, King Crimson’s major breakthrough came after only a few months when The Rolling Stones invited them to perform at their iconic free concert on July 5th, 1969, at Hyde Park, London, in front of a congregation of half a million people. High on the success of such a prominent gig – and several thousand joints – King Crimson wasted no time in recording their debut album, In the Court of the Crimson King.

The album arrived in October 1969 and was an instant hit on both sides of the Atlantic. An unsettled youth seemed to gravitate towards this eclectic spread of dark psychedelia that resonated with concurrent political unrest. The aggressive blend of industrial guitar rock and jazz heard in the classic track ’21st Century Schizoid Man’, in particular, reflected the mania surrounding the Vietnam War and qualified the horrified face that emblazoned the album cover.

In the Court of the Crimson King remains a classic of the prog-rock genre, thanks to its ongoing influence in several fields of pop and avant-garde music. The band’s innovative musicianship has been revered by many, including The Who’s Pete Townshend, who once described the album as “an uncanny masterpiece.”

One of the many strings to the album’s glorious bow is its audacious scope. From the pulsating intensity of ’21st Century Schizoid Man’, the album flits through styles and textures, from the tortuous, anthemic title track to the breezy and mildly conventional ‘I Talk to the Wind’. The latter remains one of King Crimson’s most accessible and beloved tracks, thanks to its pleasant flute progression and gentle vocals, performed by Ian McDonald and Greg Lake.

The lyrics, written by Sinfield, seem to pose God or some higher being as the wind: “I talk to the wind, my words are all carried away / I talk to the wind / The wind does not hear / The wind cannot hear”. Whether we interpret the communication as heavenly or terrestrial – perhaps to a lover – it is difficult to hear the song in a positive light. Contrary to the bright instrumentals, the breakdown of communication conveyed is desperate and downcast.