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Y PageContents: Yes, Neil YoungYesThe Yes Album(1971)If Yes had broken up straight after The Yes Album I'd probably appreciate it more, but in the context of Fragile and Close To The Edge it documents a group on a steep learning curve. The songs aren't as engaging, nor the players as skilled, as they would be a year later. Their first two albums (1969's self-titled and 1970's Time And A Word) are apparently more mellow and psychedelic, and The Yes Album marks Yes' first foray into the pretentious and celestial realm where they prosper. The only fully developed piece on The Yes Album, however, is 'Starship Trooper', but it's almost worth the price of admission alone. When Yes start singing about reality they get themselves in trouble, as Jon Anderson's ethereal voice is suited to pretty fantasy impressionist nonsense, and the opening phrase "sister bluebird" finds Yes staking out their familiar lyrical concerns. 'Yours Is No Disgrace' is another good progressive song, although it isn't quite as focused or consistently engaging. Elsewhere the songs are all promising, but scattershot; Howe's live solo showpiece 'The Clap' is breathtaking, and the short music hall piece 'A Venture' is fun, but both are out of context. The harmony driven 'Your Move' section of 'I've Seen All Good People' is lovely, but the rest of the song is distracting, while 'Perpetual Change' is catchy but overlong and repetitive. While Yes have four of the five musicians from their classic line up assembled, the instrumental proficiency isn't as accentuated as on their later albums. Chris Squire isn't as loud, Bill Bruford isn't as innovative, while the soon to be replaced keyboardist Tony Kaye plays some pleasant organ backdrops but doesn't provide the showmanship and textural range of his replacement Rick Wakeman. The exception is newly recruited guitarist Steve Howe who, despite teaching himself an ungainly technique, has plenty of room to impress with his countryish leads, delicate acoustic work and hard edged electric riffs. By the next album, everyone else would have dragged themselves to the same level, and the instrumental passages would be far more entertaining. This would allow them to lose the trappings of the sixties that haunt The Yes Album, in the form of conventional and dated textures and lyrics. While The Yes Album is an entertaining record, it captures Yes in a state of flux; one foot grounded in the sixties while the other is stretching into space. 
Fragile(1972)Yes launched full tilt into progressive rock with 1972's Fragile (although 1974's immense Tales From Topgraphic Ocean makes Fragile look somewhat lightweight in comparison). The album was rush-released to pay for new member Rick Wakeman's plethora of keyboard instruments, although with their healthy lifestyle that eschewed meat, alcohol and drugs it's surprising that Yes weren't running big cash surpluses. As a result, each member was required to contribute a solo piece, with mixed results; Squire's bass symphony 'The Fish' (a reference to his habit of taking excessively long baths) is entertaining, but everybody already knows that Anderson has an effeminate voice and that Howe and Wakeman are accomplished on their respective instruments. Bruford's short freakout is kind of interesting though, and could have been developed further. It's a shame that these solo pieces break up the flow, because the rest of Fragile is often awe inspiring. 'Roundabout', 'South Side Of The Sky' and 'Heart Of The Sunrise' are three excellent epics, each capturing the band in different moods. 'Roundabout' is bouncy, 'South Side Of The Sky' (about a doomed polar expedition) has a harder edge, while 'Heart Of The Sunrise' has vulnerability with Anderson's plea that he feels "lost in the city." While Anderson's lyrics are open to criticism, with the prime example 'Roundabout''s "In and around the lake/Mountains come out of the sky and they stand there," most of the time they are well crafted and an integral part of the music. They don't always bear close inspection, but they always enhance the celestial feel rather than distract from it. All four of the actual songs are excellent (the previously unmentioned 'Long Distance Runaround' is relatively simple and poppy), but the short solo tracks disturb the flow and stop Fragile fractionally short of five stars. If you don't have Fragile already, make sure you pick up the newly remastered edition with an amped up cover of Simon and Garfunkel's 'America' and a rough mix of 'Roundabout' where Squire improbably demonstrates that he can sing even higher than Anderson. Fragile is a very good album, but it is slightly overrated in the Yes canon - it's well and truly eclipsed by the cohesive feel and sheer audacity of Close To The Edge.
 Feedback: from Dave Bell Pick up a dvd audio player and acopy of yes- fragile it will blow you away. Also numerous sacd discs have tremendous sound. Close To The Edge(1972)Tragically, Close To The Edge was the second and last album recorded by the classic Yes lineup bursting with virtuosity; namely Chris Squire's huge bass tone, Rick Wakeman's majestic keyboards, Bill Bruford's supple drumming and Steve Howe's genre hopping guitar. Close To The Edge is as pretentious as anything, with only three tracks and quasi-religious incomprehensible lyrics, but with a huge arsenal of instrumental talent and heavenly harmonies at their disposal, it seems that Yes were capable of making anything work in 1972. Close To The Edge was Yes' second album for the year, and it's amazing. Unlike other side-long pieces, such as Genesis' 'Supper's Ready', the title track is only one song, rather than a series of related songs stuck together. The structure is more like a classical piece with different themes floating in and out, building through an amazingly proficient organ solo from Wakeman into a wonderful climax. The whole piece is often overwhelmingly evocative and memorable, especially the "I get up, I get down" section, and Jon Anderson's clear and ethereal vocals are perfectly suited to the material. The second side begins with 'And You And I', which is the least hard-hitting song on Close To The Edge, but still fantastic. It has a more subtle acoustic flavour, which emphasises the group's harmonies. The album toughens up again with the riff-driven 'Siberian Khatru', with the fabulous chanted climax. The introduction is one of my favourites, as the group transform Howe's sublime but conventional opening blues riff into a distinctively Yes piece, while I also love the harpsichord. Other commentators have labelled Close To The Edge as a rock symphony, which is an accurate desription. While the three pieces are distinct, they are linked by Anderson's streams of vague religious imagery, and they all end in a triumphantly hopeful climax. Close To The Edge has been my favourite album for a couple of years now; there's hardly a dull moment in this ambitious progressive suite.
There is a review of Rick Wakeman's The Six Wives Of Henry VIII on the W Page. Tales From Topographic Oceans(1974)Often credited as embodying the worst excesses of progressive rock and even single-handedly inspiring punk, Tales From Topographic Oceans was Yes' attempt at a conceptual double album. Based entirely on a lengthy footnote on page 83 of an obscure religious text, Tales From Topographic Oceans does find Yes stretching their ideas too thin over four side-long tracks. Unfortunately it went to number one on the British charts, a reward for the trio of excellent albums that preceded it, drawing attention to itself unnecessarily to a wider audience. But despite a large degree of pretence and the loss of Bruford to King Crimson, Yes were still in the middle of a fantastic streak of work, and Tales From Topographic Oceans rarely dips too far into mediocrity. Howe, Wakeman and Squire are still terrific musicians, even though they're more subdued than on previous albums, and the whole album has a nice soothing feel to it. Generally the melodies are as nice as ever, but the songs are less arresting; there are less obvious dynamics, and the sections drift into each other. The pieces are structured carefully but Yes never go into full throttle. There is also the occasional feeling of deja vu, as the band recycle instrumental passages from previous Yes recordings. The high-brow concept doesn't actually affect the lyrics adversely at all; they're more incomprehensible than ever, always a positive trait with Yes, and the voices function as additional instruments rather than as channels of communication. The obvious highlight is opener 'The Revealing Science of God'. It's not as action packed as other side-longs such as 'Close To The Edge' or 'The Gates Of Delirium', but it still justifies its twenty minute length well enough with a nice melody and a more obvious sense of build up than the other tracks; Wakeman's nice synth solo leads into the final barrage of harmonies in the same way that 'Close to the Edge' did on the previous album. The chanting that opens the piece just makes it even more preposterous that Tales From Topographic Oceans was commercially successful. 'The Remembering' has more nice melodic ideas, and the "relayer" section is arguably the most hook-laden aspect of the entire album. The only place Tales From Topographic Oceans does become something of a chore is the third track 'Ritual' which takes the band into atonal territory for an entire fifteen minutes without ever really going anywhere. It does give an accurate precursor to the following album, Relayer, which tackled the jazz-fusion-avant-garde field with a lot more verve and energy. It's only in the last five minutes that the band go into a calming acoustic piece that's in line with the rest of the album. The closing 'Ritual' is more of the same as the first two pieces, although being last in an eighty minute album does diminish its chances of being noticed. I've seen Tales From Topographic Oceans described as the ultimate love it or hate it album, but that's hardly accurate; it's certainly not the place to begin an exploration into Yes, but if you're already a fan it's perfectly enjoyable. It's not as fully an immersive experience as Close To The Edge or Relayer, and often functions better as background music than as an intensive listening piece, but misguided as it is a great deal of thought and talent went into this project and once you've absorbed Fragile and Close To The Edge it's definitely worth some effort.
Relayer(1974)After comparing Tales to a padded bra, Wakeman quit Yes to pursue his solo career. He was replaced by Patrick Moraz, formerly in Refugee with the former rhythm section of proto-prog group The Nice. Moraz' keyboards are less extroverted than Wakeman's; taking away most of Yes' classical influence and leading them into a more streamlined, nastier jazz-fusion approach. It's a far more dynamic album than Tales, and it's more aggressive than anything else in Yes' discography. Anderson eschews his friendly spiritual-babble for an entire album side with the epic 'Gates of Delirium', based on Tolstoy's War and Peace. Lyrics like "Kill them, give them as they give us/Slay them, burn their childrens' laughter/On to hell." are as atypical for Anderson as they are for Barney the Purple Dinosaur. It's a more difficult listen than the average Yes album, melody isn't always the focus and it's a dense mix, but it's one of their most rewarding albums. It's also one of their most coherent, following the Close To The Edge model of an excellent side long opener followed by two ten minute songs. 'The Gates of Delirium' is less of a symphony than 'Close to the Edge' or anything from Tales; rather than cycling through and returning to different melodies throughout its course, it sticks to a basic song structure before a lengthy duel between White's percussion and Moraz's keyboards, then climaxes in the beautiful ballad 'Soon'. This lack of repetition makes it less immediate than their other twenty minutes epics, but it's worth the effort; the uncharacteristic sustained fury of the band during the vocal section, the simple and uplifting melody that lifts out of the battle scene and the beauty of the final conclusion. White and Anderson scrounged through scrap car yards to find odd pieces of percussion to use in the piece. The other two songs aren't quite on the same level, but they're entertaining and among Yes' best. 'Sound Chaser' is sonic insanity, constantly slowing and speeding up, while managing to be surprisingly catchy. The often criticised "Cha cha cha cha" sections are eccentric, but fit in perfectly. 'To Be Over' is the delicate ballad, this time with more of an eastern flavour than Yes had displayed previously. The newly released reissue comes with the single edits of 'Soon' and 'Sound Chaser' (an edit which compounds the insanity of the original by removing the relatively normal vocal sections), and an interesting studio run through 'The Gates of Delirium'. It's not the best place to start, but Relayer is easily one of Yes' strongest and most creative albums.
Going For The One(1977)After releasing seven studio albums between 1969 and 1974, Yes took a three year hiatus from recording as a group while they toured the world and all released solo albums. Even Alan White cracked the UK top 40 with his solo debut. During the intervening years progressive rock had become less of a force, usurped by punk and new wave and a more stripped down approach. In step with the times Going For The One is punchier and more concise, easily their most accessible album since Fragile with a grand total of five songs. Yes recorded the album in Montreux, Switzerland, the homeland of Patrick Moraz. Moraz, however, was fired from Yes early in the sessions, the rest of the group claiming that success went to his head, while Moraz was unhappy that his ideas for the group were not being taken on board. Rick Wakeman was asked to rejoin in his place, and his church organ and piano help Yes to evoke a warmer and more organic feel. The other substantial personnel change on this album is the absence of producer Eddie Offord, who often acted as the group's sixth member, helping to piece the group's compositions into coherent form; the closing 'Awaken' in particular would have benefited from his ability to edit the group's work. The religious lyrics are carried over from Close To The Edge and Tales, but rather than the largely eastern imagery that dominated those records, the lyrics of 'Wonderous Stories' and 'Awaken' seem to have more of an origin in Christianity, an impression heightened by Anderson's harp, Wakeman's Church organ (apparently recorded via telephone) and choirs in the latter. "Wish the sun to stand still" is an explicit Biblical reference, while the line "like the time I ran away and turned around and you were standing close to me" is reminiscent of the ubiquitous Footprints tracts. The fast moving opening title track features Howe's stinging country licks, against which Anderson shows that he has a sense of humour as he mocks one of the most pompous lyricists in 1970's rock ("I'm thinking I should go and write a punch line/But they're so hard to find in my cosmic mind"), while the contemplative second track 'Turn Of The Century' is a gorgeous acoustic meander through more esoteric territory, arguably the album's standout song. 'Parallels' and 'Wonderous Stories' are more concise pop songs, the former opening with a huge church organ riff and a strident Squire bass line, and the latter with a gentle acoustic story of religious pilgrimage. These two songs show that Yes hadn't lost their pop sense, despite not attempting anything so straightforward since 1972's 'Long Distance Runaround'. The closing epic 'Awaken' does have the most powerful moments of the album; especially the "Master of Images" section and the explosive organ solo immediately afterwards, although its impact is lessened by a few dull spots and it would be more effective if it was a few minutes shorter. Going For The One does feels lightweight next to Yes's very best albums, but it's still quintessentially Yes and its five compositions cover a lot of ground stylistically. Unfortunately, this is often regarded as the last of Yes's great albums; apparently 1978's followup Tormato is substantially weaker, and following that the group went through major personnel changes and went in an entirely different direction. Still, it was terrific while it lasted, and few groups made albums with such reckless audacity while remaining mostly listenable.
Drama(1980)1978's Tormato was generally viewed as disappointing, and Wakeman and Anderson left in its aftermath. In one of the more bizarre lineup changes in the long and convoluted Yes history, they were replaced by new wave synth duo The Buggles, who had recently enjoyed fame with the hit 'Video Killed The Radio Star'. It might not have sounded like a good idea in paper, but parts of the record really work; shifting Yes into contemporary new wave territory without abandoning their progressive rock roots. Keyboardist Geoff Downes does a fine job; his low key virtuosity is a key component of the album's compromise between prog and new wave. Trevor Horn also does a good job of filling in for Anderson; his singing is close enough to Anderson's to ensure a relatively seamless transition, while it's arguable that his lyrics are even more meaningless. There is enough in this album to suggest that the union of Yes remnant and Buggles was a good idea, but the results are lacklustre. The two epic songs both drag, the short running time suggests a lack of ideas, while Steve Howe is disappointingly generic throughout. 'Tempus Fugit' is the only song that captures Yes anywhere near their prime, with an exciting riff augmented by Downes' keyboard swirls and a dynamic arrangement. 'Does It Really Happen' is the other highlight, based around a funky Squire bass riff, giving Yes more of a pop sheen without ever becoming too uncomfortable. It's not surprising that the two fastest songs are the most interesting; the stripped down sound does become monotonous when they slow down too far. The ten minute 'Machine Messiah' never takes off, and it's often close to generic with the metal riffing and the pointless lyrics. The eight and a half minutes of 'Into The Lens' are more interesting musically, but the song's rendered laughable by some the most inane lyrics in Yes' canon. Despite all his blather about witches' livers and flying purple wolfhounds, Anderson never came up with anything as plain dumb as "I am a camera". 'Run Through The Light' isn't too memorable, while 'White Car' is a promising new wave keyboard piece that lasts little more than a minute. It's far from a complete disaster, but Drama isn't one of Yes' stronger albums; it's a weird little culvert in their discography that you don't really need to explore unless you're completely obsessed or if you find it cheap.
90125(1983)Bad news for progressive rock fans, but good news for Toto fans. The first time I heard 90125, I was disgusted that Yes could sink to such depths of crassness. Mainstream eighties pop with a hard rock edge from new guitarist Trevor Rabin, who's about as far removed from Howe's fluidity as is human possibly. But if 90125 is selling out, it's selling out with a good deal of creativity intact; even though their virtuosity's toned down a long way since 1972, they're still a cut above your average pop band, while it's a tough job finding a weak song here. Howe, Horn and Downes all walked out on Yes after Drama, Howe and Downes forming the progressive rock supergroup Asia with Carl Palmer and John Wetton. After an attempt to team up with Page and Plant, Squire and White recruited 19 year old South African Trevor Rabin to form a new band Cinema. Eventually, both Tony Kaye (last in the group in 1971) and Jon Anderson signed up, and the new album was an official Yes product, named after its catalogue number. To make matters even more complicated, Trevor Horn signed back up as a producer. While he's not always respected among Yes fans, Rabin is the driving force on this record; he wrote most of the material, and was the lead vocalist until Anderson was bought in at the eleventh hour. He does a fine job, and it's not difficult to imagine Yes petering out without the shot in the arm that this album provided. Kaye's still not too exciting, and it's hard to tell what he's playing since Rabin is also credited with some keyboard parts, although I always find the introduction to 'Changes' mind-boggling in a subtle way. The big hit was opening track 'Owner Of A Lonely Heart'; its blatant riff is surprisingly un-Yes like, but the track is infectiously catchy. Almost the entire album continues in the same vein; there's variation in style, but the songs are anthemic, well written and catchy. The only break is 'Cinema', a short prog rock instrumental in the middle. There are still traces of progressive rock remaining; the sitar in 'It Can Happen' is beyond the scope of your average eighties pop band, while 'Hearts' has an epic chorus that takes a long time to arrive but which is absolutely spectacular. Other highlights include the a capella introduction and vocal layering in the chorus of 'Leave It'; with Anderson, Rabin, Squire and White all strong singers, this version of Yes was still formidable vocally. Rabin gets a lead vocal in 'Changes', giving Yes more urgency and drive. I was originally primed to give this version of Yes the cold shoulder, but it's hard not to respect this; in fact I'd possibly give it an even higher mark if it wasn't so terminally uncool stylistically.
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Written 2001-2009, Graham Fyfe
