Holding a newspaper in his hands, Fripp removed his glasses and read aloud the words, "The Chattanooga Pulse." He then began reciting from my February 22 preview of the show.

While he would finish his public skimming of my work with a very cordial "Thank you very much for that," Fripp made a point to stop various times in his reading of the article to throw a jab or two ("'Chattanooga's Weekly Alternative'...Alternative to what?") and make some...um...clarifications regarding some of what I'd written:

"Which Robert Fripp will show up at Rhythm and Brews on Monday night? Will it be the methodical and instructional Fripp of the League of Crafty Guitarists, who led an army of upwards of 12 interlocked, acoustic guitarists/students (recent Chattanooga visitors the California Guitar Trio among them) through dizzying performances across the globe in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s?"

Fripp pointed out that, in fact, the largest group of Crafties to ever perform together was (I think he said) 167. Based on every LCG show/tape I've seen/heard, and all the crafty albums, however, the number never rose above twelve. Those smaller groups were "touring units" my subsequent research explained. A minor point, but a point willingly conceded.

"...Will it be the hired gun Fripp, whose dark and fiery licks on Talking Heads’ 'I Zimbra,' Peter Gabriel’s 'Solsbury Hill,' Brian Eno’s 'Baby’s on Fire' and David Bowie’s 'Heroes' are burned into our music-lovin’ heads forever?"

Fripp explained that (contrary to the liner notes to at least two Peter Gabriel "Solsbury Hill"-included releases I've owned) he did not, in fact, play on this track, stating that "he didn't need to" as Steve Hunter's performance was perfect. In retrospect, the guitar work on "Solsbury Hill" doesn't sound like Fripp at all, and I've always wondered if it was really him. While Fripp did play on the sessions for the album, it wasn't him on that particular track. Now I know. (Just as I am re-examining my work, Geffen needs to re-examine the accuracy of their liner notes and album credits, thank you.)

"And just as Fripp has sat on a stool while playing since the late-‘60s, this is a seated event."

Fripp said that while he played standing for a few a gigs with King Crimson in 1969, he eventually sat down for live performances (for good) -- just like he had done since the '50s. Fripp further explained that upon taking a stool on the stage with Crimson, Greg Lake remarked, "You can't sit down. You look like a mushroom." Another minor, only-for-the-nerds correction. I humbly admit I was wrong on this, too, as my knowledge of -- and the availability of information about -- Fripp before, say, Giles, Giles and Fripp is somewhat limited. And, oh yeah, he VERY rarely does interviews.

Fripp also playfully mentioned (at least a couple of times) that the article was overly generous and that my (genuinely affectionate) description of the show as being "weird" was somewhat inaccurate, though I'd bet more than a few in attendance (including many female audience members who looked at their watches more than the stage) and this blogger would probably agree with me.

Upon finishing the article, Fripp turned the page to the next article, "And on the next page, Monster Cock..." This, brought laughs as Fripp made it clear that he was not, in fact, Monster Cock.

The rest of the Q&A session consisted of Fripp pressing the audience for questions they'd ask if they "knew they were going to die." He was very jovial, witty and engaging as he talked about previous projects, former and current collaborators, his equipment and where he finds inspiration for his work. (Ernie Paik, who joined me for the show, probably has better notes about this portion of the show than I do.)

Fripp rounded out the night with another 20-minute set of music. As his last loops finished looping, he put down his guitar, picked up his messenger bag and waved goodbye. A standing ovation failed to yield his return. Too bad. It was a fun night.