Robert Fripp is performing tonight with Slow Music at the Triple Door (he’s also playing at Washington Hall May 25 with the League of Crafty Guitarists). In honor of this occasion, here are seven of his most memorable moments on record, as recollected by me in the last couple of hours. Your mileage may vary; if so, vent in the comments.

โ€œKingโ€™s Lead Hatโ€ (from Brian Enoโ€™s 1977 album Before and After Science): Fripp takes a solo in Brian Enoโ€™s hardest-rocking composition that never fails to set my eyeballs rolling around their sockets in ecstasy. The whole tuneโ€™s amazing, but when that Fripp steps into the spotlight at 3:16, itโ€™s like heโ€™s captured the god particle and is letting it bubble up to a heaven I donโ€™t believe in. (Did you know that โ€œKingโ€™s Lead Hatโ€ is an anagram for โ€œTalking Headsโ€? You are obligated by law to mention this factoid anytime you listen to this song in company.)

โ€œSt. Elmoโ€™s Fireโ€ (from Brian Enoโ€™s 1975 album Another Green World): One of Frippโ€™s most emotionally fraught and frilly guitar parts; itโ€™s seriously balletic and beautiful. (Couldโ€™ve easily put โ€œIโ€™ll Come Runningโ€ here, too.)

โ€œโ€˜Heroesโ€™โ€ (from David Bowieโ€™s 1977 album “Heroes”): An obvious choice, but fug it. Frippโ€™s eloquent ebowโ€™d cry carries one of the most poignant, sway-inducing songs in creation.

โ€œBreathlessโ€ (from Frippโ€™s 1979 album Exposure): This cut sounds like a sideways homage to Bobโ€™s own menacing King Crimson classic, โ€œRed.โ€ The world canโ€™t have enough songs that sound like โ€œRed,โ€ if you ask me.

โ€œAn Index of Metalsโ€ (from 1975โ€™s Evening Star): Frippโ€™s had a lot of hypnotic and ominous peaks in his long career, but this 28-minute zoner is probably the ultimate. A deep contrast from the placidity of Evening Starโ€™s first side.

โ€œSwastika Girlsโ€ (from Fripp & Enoโ€™s 1973โ€™s [No Pussyfooting]): This is OCD looping madness, toggling repeatedly between nerve-fraying shrieks and calming tintinnabulation. Play this simultaneously with โ€œAn Index of Metalsโ€ for a very highbrow bout of disorientation.

โ€œThe Zero of the Signifiedโ€ (from Frippโ€™s 1980 album God Save the Queen/Under Heavy Manners): Recalls โ€œAn Index of Metalsโ€ with its wayward emergency siren wails and air of imminent disaster. Put it on at a party and watch everyone’s expressions crash to the floor. [To hear “Signified,” go to around the 36-minute mark of this clip.]

Dave Segal is a journalist and DJ living in Seattle. He has been writing about music since 1983. His stuff has appeared in Gale Research’s literary criticism series of reference books, Creem (when...