Yes

Yes
Time And A Word
The Yes Album
Fragile
Close To The Edge
Tales From Topographic Oceans
Relayer
Going For The One


Yes (Atlantic '69, Rhino '03) Rating: B+
Yes was and always will be the ultimate progressive rock band. But before they came to embody all that was great and grotesque within that particular musical movement, they were a more traditional, song-oriented band. Don’t get me wrong, abundant Yes trademarks already appear on Yes, such as inventive harmonies, long songs with several extended introductions, and extensive soloing, but by and large these songs are more grounded than their later ‘70s efforts. Of course, Yes had their stuff together straight from the start, even if they hadn’t yet found their signature style. The band’s superior musicianship is already apparent, and to quote Mike Tiano’s liner notes, the band had an “array of influences that went well beyond the basic blues rock of their peers.” Certainly the excellent drummer Bill Bruford and the ultra-competent Peter Banks were well versed in jazz techniques, while high pitched lead singer Jon Anderson (an acquired taste to many) is about as un-bluesy as they come. The band’s most impressive member is bass guitarist Chris Squire, a melodic but incredibly forceful player (it’s not unusual for his bass to function as the lead instrument), while Tony Kaye offers up limited but uplifting organ embellishments that generally color each song’s mood without ever dominating the action. The album is notable for two covers, both of which are complete transformations. Their cover of The Byrds’ “I See You” demonstrates the band’s (and particularly Bruford’s) jazz leanings and the band’s impeccable taste, while their cover of The Beatles’ “Every Little Thing” is a fast-paced, jazzy powerhouse that also playfully integrates excerpts from “Day Tripper.” Elsewhere, “Yesterday and Today” and the less successful “Sweetness” are naïve love songs the likes of which would rarely appear again on a Yes album, and “Harold Land” is another anomaly within the Yes catalogue in that its lyrics (again to quote Tiano: about a “man torn by the ravages of war”) actually make sense and tell a moving story. The song's music is suitably epic, too, and the ambitious album opener “Beyond and Before,” on which Squire especially shines, and the fine album closer “Survival,” which features an interesting intro before settling into an enjoyably breezy pop melody, also hint towards what would become the “classic Yes sound,” while Kaye even has his moment in the sun on the surprisingly funky “Looking Around.” All told, this was a consistently enjoyable first effort, albeit one with the same flaws common to many debut albums in that the singer isn’t as confident as he would later become, and some of the songs are all over the place. In addition, the guitarist and organ player aren’t nearly as talented as their subsequent replacements (more on them later), and the album has some dated qualities that seem almost obligatory with late ‘60s albums. Of course, this also gives the album a singular charm that makes it stand out from virtually all of their other albums, and Yes was a successful starting point for the even better things that soon followed.

Time And A Word (Atlantic '70, Rhino '03) Rating: B
But first came the sophomore slump. In retrospect, Time And A Word isn’t bad by any means, but it is a transitional effort by a band not quite sure of their own identity. Perhaps feeling that their debut wasn’t “progressive” enough, and wanting to go in that direction, the band adds excessive strings (and occasionally, horns) to almost every song here, rarely improving upon the final product and in many instances detracting from it. In addition, the decision to elevate their least talented member up in the mix (Tony Kaye) while all but burying Peter Banks’ contributions (small wonder that this would be his last album with the band) was another curious move, and the songwriting on the whole is considerably less consistent than on the debut. Fortunately, when you have the ability to completely transform other people’s songs this is less of a problem. Their version of Richie Havens’ “No Opportunity Necessary, No Experience Needed” sounds nothing like the original, and though this take is totally over the top, what with string and horns all over the place, the song still manages to be both playful and fun (and rocking) despite its pretensions. Their version of Buffalo Springfield’s “Everydays” isn’t quite as major an overhaul, at least during the moody mellower sections, but where the song really takes off is on its spectacular, jam packed middle section. Here, and on other solid but less successful efforts such as “Then” and “Astral Traveller,” the band’s jazz leanings come even further to the forefront. These songs show how each band member could go off and do their own seemingly unrelated things, yet have the end result still ultimately come together in a surprisingly satisfying manner. Unfortunately, a lack of songwriting chops is all too apparent on “The Prophet,” which starts with a boring extended introduction and doesn’t get much better from there. “Clear Days” is another filler-ish track that seems kinda silly (but at least it’s short), while the hippy-ish title track would seem equally inane were it not for its pretty pop melody. Of course, the album’s best melody clearly belongs to “Sweet Dreams,” a catchy, upbeat pop song the likes of which would soon disappear from the band’s repertoire. To summarize, Time And A Word is an at-times misguided attempt at “progress” on which the band members are too often regulated to secondary status behind the orchestra. Yet the album still has enough high points to entice many a Yes-head, especially since there’s no other Yes album quite like it. Then again, most people would argue that that’s not such a good thing, so caution is advised, especially since a great new guitarist and a clarified sense of direction would soon enable the band to progress by leaps and bounds.

The Yes Album (Atlantic '71, Rhino '03) Rating: A
The addition of new guitarist Steve Howe took Yes to a whole new level on The Yes Album, whose very title even sounded more confident. A brand new beginning for the band, the album contains two relatively short songs in Howe’s spectacular solo acoustic showcase “The Clap” (recorded live), and “A Venture,” a modest but pleasant song dominated by Anderson and featuring tasteful performances from the whole band, particularly Kaye on piano. Yet the album’s enduring reputation rests primarily with four epic tracks that range from approximately seven to ten minutes long. Ironically, despite such extended lengths, according to Bill Martin’s liner notes, “the music on The Yes Album is in some ways simpler than that of the first two LPs…the structures are clean, uncluttered, and even straightforward.” Well, at least Yes makes it seem easy, and the album is more focused and less jazz influenced than previous attempts, perhaps in part because Eddie Offord has replaced Tony Colton in the producer chair. The album gets off to a rousing start with “Yours Is No Disgrace,” on which Kaye’s keyboards soar while Howe’s incredibly lyrical lead guitar lends absolutely gorgeous accompaniment. Even better is “Starship Trooper,” which starts as a normal (but very good) pop song and goes onto a beautiful acoustic mid-section before building brilliantly to it’s ever-escalating ending. It would be tough to top that, and “I’ve Seen All Good People” doesn’t even try, though this classic rock radio staple has a light and airy pop melody that is effortlessly appealing. Of course, Yes being Yes, the song is really two songs in one, but the second half of the song, which features impressive boogie-based guitar interplay and the repeated mantra of the chorus, is also enjoyable. Alas, the nearly 9-minute “Perpetual Change” sounds slightly clunky compared to the other epics, but it too has its share of interesting instrumental sections along with Anderson’s star gazing lyrics. All in all, The Yes Album was a rousing success on all fronts, and I for one have never complained that any of the songs are “too long.” What’s most impressive about the band is how each members’ (Martin again) “diverse styles were integrated and made to work together, not put on display for the purpose of showing off.” Indeed, by flexing their massive individual talents while keeping their egos in check Yes pulled off the difficult task of making this their most adventurous and accessible album yet. The end result was the band's first truly classic album, one that began an extended run of excellence.

Fragile (Atlantic '72, Rhino '03) Rating: A
With the departure of Tony Kaye and the addition of keyboard wizard Rick Wakeman, Yes had their “definitive” lineup in place. Even the critics, who tended to be harsh towards the band, couldn’t knock the creative forces at work here, and I can see why so many people see this album as Yes’ best. This was also the first Yes album to feature the flamboyant artwork of Roger Dean, whose work would become synonymous with the band’s fantasy-based image. Each member of Yes was now a virtuoso performer, and they are all given a chance to individually shine. For example, Wakeman successfully tackles Brahm’s 4th symphony (“Cans And Brahms,”) and proves that he’s worlds beyond Tony Kaye in the process, while Anderson multi-tracks himself all over the place a-capella style on the gorgeously soothing and upbeat “We Have Heaven.” Bruford briefly chips in on “Five Percent For Nothing,” but Chris Squire and Steve Howe have the most impressive of the band’s five solo pieces. Squire impressively adds layers upon layers of bass parts to create his very own symphony of sound on “Fish (Schindleria Prematurus),” while on “Mood For A Day” Howe again shows that he was seemingly born to play the acoustic guitar. Critics complained that these solo sections made the album less than completely cohesive and not a little indulgent, and they have their points. However, these songs also demonstrate the individual members’ dazzling talent and creativity, and besides, on epic length tracks such as the much-played “Roundabout,” “South Side Of The Sky,” and “Heart Of The Sunrise” Yes functions as a totally together band who are firing on all cylinders. Though each member still adds distinctive individual parts, the end results are undeniably greater than the sum of their parts. Each of these songs seems like ten songs rolled into one, with stop and start tempo shifts, lovely melodic passages that can erupt into jagged hard rock at any time, full bodied harmonies, and lots of cool solo turns. These songs are often beautiful and rocking, sometimes at the same time, and the excitement always remains high. In addition, the mindlessly catchy chorus of “Roundabout” showed that Yes could be an unstoppable pop band when the mood so moved them, a point that’s further proven on “Long Distance Runaround,” another well-known song that's led by Squire’s funky bass lines. Granted, lyrically the band drifts ever further from reality (after all, their signature song’s chorus goes “in and around the lake, mountains come out of the sky and they stand there”!), making it hard to become too emotionally attached to these songs. But they sure sound good, even more so because they simply don’t write ‘em or play ‘em like this anymore (probably because nobody else can), and you can rest assured that this classic prog-rock album will always remain a prized member of my collection.

Close To The Edge (Atlantic '72, Rhino '03) Rating: A+
After proving both their individual prowess and impressive group interplay on Fragile, Close To The Edge concentrates on the latter, with outstanding results. In fact, the album is arguably the pinnacle of the whole progressive rock movement, as the band's most ambitious album to date consists of a mere three songs, each of which approaches or exceeds (or almost doubles, as in the case of the title track) the 10-minute mark. Simply put, this album saw the "definitive" lineup of arguably the definitive progressive rock band pushing the envelope further than they had ever pushed it before, and though the album is at times perilously pretentious, the fact that the band comes up with more creative ideas per song than most bands find in an entire career more than compensates for the album's flaws. The band gets right down to business on the title track, which begins with an intense, hard charging instrumental section on which it's obvious that the band had been listening to The Mahavishnu Orchestra. It gets more melodic at the 3-minute mark and the vocals begin in earnest a minute after that, but it's the chugging rhythms that keep the excitement from ever waning even after multiple listens. Actually, this song gets better the more you get to know it, as the densely packed music is a lot to take in on one listen. At times charging forward with a flurry of activity, other times surprisingly poppy and singable, the song is highlighted by its various "I get up, I get down" vocal sections, and by Wakeman's celestial keyboards, which at times (12:15) sound like nothing less than the sky opening up (or at least that's the image I get when I hear it). Such is the awe-inspiring beauty and power of this multi-sectioned opus, which is probably the single most ambitious and successful piece that the band has ever done. Fortunately, the high quality continues with "And You And I," which proved that Yes could write a simple but lovely pop melody, led along by Howe's acoustic guitar and Wakeman's tasteful synth embellishments. Indeed, for all their reputation as being pretentious show offs, rarely did a member of Yes put themselves ahead of the song. Of course, Yes being Yes, this is no simple pop song, and it gets suitably epic at times, such as at the 5-minute mark where Anderson harmonizes with himself, creating a symphony of sound that takes the band beyond the mere realm of "pop" and "rock". Of course, Yes being Yes, the song doesn't need to be 10 minutes long, as album padding was becoming an increasing problem (see the next review for proof). The song is still a monumental achievement, however, enough so that "Siberian Khatru" seems somewhat anti-climactic by comparison, though it's another impressive example of the band's uniquely epic style. In fact, its best moments can still take my breath away, and it provides a more than acceptable ending to this landmark album. Certainly Bill Bruford's militant snare rolls on the song are worthy of admiration, though this would be his last album with the band for many a moon. Frustrated by the band's exacting recording methods, he would join another prog-rock powerhouse, King Crimson, before Yes embarked on their most ambitious and controversial album project to date.

Tales From Topographic Oceans (Atlantic '73, Rhino '03) Rating: C+
Indeed, despite impressive contributions from new drummer Alan White (who is still a notch below Bruford), Tales From Topographic Oceans is the album that began the prog-rock backlash that exists in most commercial music magazines 'till this day. Containing a mere four songs, each of which occupied an entire side of an LP, the band should be given points for the sheer audacity of their sprawling ambition. Ultimately, however, the album is so impenetrable and pretentious that I'd recommend it to only the band's most obsessive fans. Which isn't to imply that there isn't some majestic music on the album, which on the whole is mellower and far less accessible than Close To The Edge, which was often highly melodic and catchy despite its overall density. By contrast, there's not a single chorus on this entire album, which is more about sustaining a mystical overall mood than anything else. There are plenty of solo turns as well, in part to pad each song out to reach the 20 minute mark that was necessary to fill an entire LP side. These solo spotlights are sometimes a good thing, as Wakeman ("The Remembering High The Memory") and Howe ("The Ancient Giants Under the Sun," "Ritual Nous Sommes du Soleil") in particular impress, but too often the band bites off more than they can chew, resulting in far too many boring lulls in the action to achieve any kind of lasting impression beyond sheer puzzlement. Still, the album isn't as bad as it's reputation would have you believe, as songs such as "The Revealing Science of God Dance of the Dawn" can be as pretty and vast as Roger Dean's spectacular cover art would suggest. However, coming off of three successive classics, it can't be denied that Tales From Topographic Oceans was (and is) something of an overblown disappointment. It was even too pretentious for Wakeman (!!!), who left the band after the album's attendant tour for a far less lucrative solo career.

Relayer (Atlantic '74, Rhino '03) Rating: A
Returning to the format of Close To The Edge (one side long track plus two nearly 10-minute tracks) after the widespread panning received by Tales From Topographic Oceans, Relayer introduced new (and as it turned out, temporary) keyboardist Patrik Moraz into the fold. By the time Moraz joined the band this album had already been composed for the most part (with Anderson being the primary force on that front, as was often the case), so he only had to add his keyboard parts as a complementary player. He does a damn good job, too, and his fusion-influenced playing, a far cry from Wakeman's flamboyant keyboard fills, added another dimension to Yes' sound, which is both harder-edged (in large part due to Howe, who puts in an astonishing performance, while the rhythm section, having gained confidence after feeling each other out on Tales, "locks in" like on few of their other albums) and jazzier than in the past. Yet this is still a prog-rock album though and through, beginning with "The Gates Of Delirium," which rivals "Close To The Edge" as Yes' best super-long song (though I prefer the former by a slight margin). Worlds better than anything on Tales, this impressively structured song is loosely based on Tolstoy's War And Peace, and as such the song's different sections can be divided into the prelude to war, which starts peacefully but gradually builds, the fierce battle that itself is separated into several different jam-based sections, and then the absolutely gorgeous aftermath as the carnage is surveyed and an optimism is reached as a new day dawns. That's my brief but inadequate description of a strange track that's difficult to describe, but suffice it to say that the alternately symphonic and brutal music grows richer with repeat plays, and that (for once) the coherent lyrics match the music wonderfully. "Sound Chaser" isn't nearly as easy on the ears (aside from its mellower mid-section), however, being a decidedly difficult "fusion" number on which chaos seems to be the general rule. It mostly works, though, primarily because it showcases what mind-blowing musicians Yes had, but also because it fits within the context of the album. Indeed, after that bludgeoning assault on the senses comes "To Be Over," which prettily brings the album to a much calmer conclusion. So, it can be said that Yes rebounded from Tales big time with Relayer, whose fantastic, adventurous music perfectly matched another superlative Roger Dean album cover. Of course, the album itself isn't perfect by any means, as it took me awhile to "get" "The Gates Of Delirium" and "Sound Chaser" (and I'm still not sure I get the latter), while "To Be Over," like "And You And I," doesn't need to be 9-minutes long. Still, Yes created another landmark prog-rock album with Relayer, which is often overlooked in favor of other Yes albums but which can hold its own with any of them.

Going For The One (Atlantic '77, Rhino '03) Rating: A-
Without Patrik Moraz (who according to the rest of the band got a big head after Relayer) and longtime producer Eddie Offord, but with Rick Wakeman back in the fold, Yes returned in the year of punk with little concessions to the changing musical climate. Actually, some minor concessions were made, as the album is more modern sounding (hence the album cover art by Hipgnosis - famous for Floyd and Zep covers, among others - rather than Roger Dean) and the band was "writing songs again" (according to Wakeman, which was why he agreed to rejoin). Certainly the title track is a well-written song, and with Howe on slide guitar and an uncharacteristically aggressive vocal from Anderson it certainly is an atypical track. Repeat listens reveals one of the band's catchiest choruses, however, and Howe's wailing guitar solo dramatically closes out a fine first offering. Elsewhere, Wakeman and Anderson give bravura performances on "Parallels," though Rick's bright keyboard embellishments do veer towards the cheesy side at times, especially when contrasted with Moraz's comparatively straightforward style. Still, his style works with the band (there's a reason they wanted him back so badly), and he shows more restraint on "Turn Of The Century" and "Wonderous Stories," a couple of dreamy new age ballads. These aren't among Yes' most exciting efforts, and the former is another example of a song that overstays its welcome, but they sure are pretty and easy on the ears; it's easy to see why "Wonderous Stories" remains the band's biggest U.K. hit ever, in any event. Of course, even the band's most song oriented album in some time has one epic-scale, multi-sectioned 15+ minute track, this one called "Awaken." Fortunately, a snore inducing keyboard section and an unnecessary fadeout aside, this is another excellent song that really shows the band's knack for building up a song to epic proportions. Forget punk; none of those bands ever approached the sheer majesty of Yes at their best, like when Howe solos at the end of the song before they all join in for a spectacular symphonic finale (before the aforementioned fadeout, anyway). Actually, scratch that "forget punk" part, 'cause I'm a big fan of some of those bands and I think the punk movement provided a great boost for rock n' roll in general. But one negative aspect of that critically acclaimed movement was that bands like Yes who were their polar opposites were (and still are) automatically dismissed out of hand. Truth is, the band's superior songwriting, melodies, and musicianship alone made Yes one of the best bands of the '70s, and, like Relayer, Going For The One is often unjustly overlooked despite its consistent quality. It's not quite as good as Relayer, either in terms of cohesiveness or originality, but Going For The One was an agreeably accessible (for the most part) album that still offered a real sense of adventure. For better or occasionally worse,Yes was a band who always worked without a net, and here they mostly managed to land on their feet in fine style.

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