Belew & I

I'm lucky to count groundbreaking guitar-slinger Adrian Belew as a friend.

Around a month ago, I wrote this essay about meeting, and befriending, Jim Glickenhaus. It’s incredible to know someone in the car world with the kind of stature that Glickenhaus, an entrepreneur and Ferrari collector, maintains. But what about folks in another realm where my enthusiasm has a residence: music?

Thanks to the Three of a Perfect Pair music camp — which I first attended in 2019 and, subsequently, from 2021 to 2024 — I’ve met a trio of well-known, world-beating musicians. Maybe down the road, I’ll write about bass extraordinaire Tony Levin and ever-inventive drummer Pat Mastelotto. For now, enjoy the history of my friendship with one of the guitar world’s greatest mavericks, Adrian Belew.

Belew first broke big in the ‘70s, when he was a member of Frank Zappa’s band. Zappa ran a tight, demanding ship, a bit like the M.I.T. of the rock world. He was such a standout during his tenure, David Bowie poached Belew for his own touring act after witnessing him at a Zappa gig. (Belew has told this story a million times…look it up.) In 1981, King Crimson founder Robert Fripp decided to add Belew to a still-gesticulating project augmented by the man who had drummed in Crimson’s last configuration, Bill Bruford. Eventually, Tony Levin also joined the fray. Fripp insisted on calling the quartet Discipline, a name met with mixed feelings. Soon, the moniker would be changed to King Crimson.

As co-songwriter, lyricist, and guitarist who countered Fripp’s madness, Belew made a huge impact on Crimson for the next quarter-century. The group’s 1984 album, Three of a Perfect Pair, would go on to lend its name to a certain music camp, which I would first attend thirty-five years later.

When I found out that three of King Crimson’s most noteworthy members hosted a camp each summer in New York for around 100 lucky fans, I knew I couldn’t miss it. Since I was a guitarist (although calling Belew and I “guitarists” is akin to calling James Joyce and I “writers”), I felt more excited to meet Belew than I was to meet Levin and Mastelotto. Don’t get the wrong impression, though: this was very much a “9.9 and 9.9 vs. a 10” situation.

Being a 17-year-old who had driven up to Full Moon Resort alone, I was scared shitless. Only a handful of campers were around my age or younger, and they each had at least one parent backing them up.

When we all met in a barn on site to kick things off, I raised my hand during a Q&A to ask if the hosts had any stories about my then-favorite band, Tool. After all, it was Tool that led me to discover King Crimson.

My first impression of Adrian was the response he provided, recounting the time the latter opened for the former around 2001. “Me and Robert [Fripp] were walking around after Tool played and some guys in black shirts said ‘Tool were awesome, and those guys before...they played some tricky shit.’”

One more: “They gave us all plaques made out of red rock for selling out [Colorado venue] Red Rocks...it was all Tool. When we were playing, [for] around 45 minutes, about 1,000 kids were there, and half of them were just like [turns head briefly], the other half didn’t pay attention. The other 9,000 were in the parking lot getting high. When Tool came on, it was packed.”

Later that first night, when campers jammed in the roadhouse building — both with the hosts and in groups they had assembled — the Crimson alumni were milling about when not on stage, just talking. Really. With us normal folk. My nerves were still killing me, but I knew Adrian was a car guy. Hell, the Three of a Perfect Pair track “Dig Me” details a car deteriorating in a junkyard.

So, for the most part, that’s what we talked about: cars.

I’ll never forget that.

While I was fortunate enough to attend several camps after 2019, I still maintain that the first was the best. How often do you shoot the breeze with someone you hold on such a pedestal, such that the pedestal lowers?

Belew would host a lesson at some point during each camp, and I’d always sign up, even if I was in for a world of wrist cramps. How often can you snap a pic like this?

One of the most magical moments I’ve ever had occurred during one of those lessons. Adrian told us that, during the pandemic, he had been working on a cover of Chet Atkins’ blistering rendition of “Mr. Sandman” for several months. He played it, on acoustic, in front of us campers who were partaking. I sat inches away, spellbound. I don’t think any of us recorded it, which made the whole thing all the more special.

These days, I reach out to Adrian sporadically, as I have his phone number. I also know his wife, Martha, who is just as lovely. Both of them have made me feel at home during each TOAPP week.

The whole series of circumstances which resulting in meeting “Ade” — being an edgy teen who liked Tool, getting into King Crimson after reading the endless praises sung their way from the Tool guys in interviews, finding out about (and attending) Three of a Perfect Pair — came full circle in late 2024. Belew had announced BEAT, his super-duper ensemble which would rip out the repertoire of ‘80s King Crimson. BEAT consisted of himself, Levin, guitar wizard Steve Vai, and Danny Carey…drummer of Tool.

I splurged on the VIP package. Just before one of the greatest concerts of my life, I got to tell Adrian and Danny that my worlds had collided.