Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

In the Court of the Crimson King

I tried. I TRIED! I listened to this album over and over again. I took breaks and then went back to it. I looked up what other people had to say about it. I know how "seminal" this "prog" is. I asked to write about it. But at the end of the day, all my brain has to say about King Crimson is "Oh my god, is this song still playing? My commute is almost over." The songs are so, so long, and the part Kanye sampled a few years ago is the best part. Three separate times, I listened to it on the bus and had the exact same moment where I realized that I was still on the first track and three neighborhoods had gone by already. And I wasn't interested yet.

It sounds like the worst elements of the Beatles and Led Zeppelin had an orgy with some weird shit from the '90s and they had a deformed music baby. And in general, musicians who like to screw around by throwing cutlery and playing one individual note on 12 different instruments in no particular order—I don't really want to listen to your jazz-band rehearsal, okay? You're not "jamming." You're just being weird for the sake of being weird, like teenagers. That is not interesting.

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