2008 began as a promising year for Yes. The classic-lineup was planning a world tour to celebrate the band’s 40th anniversary and hopes were high that new studio material might be forthcoming. Instead, lead singer Jon Anderson faced a series of life-threatening illnesses and keyboardist Rick Wakeman (facing health restrictions of his own) bowed out of the tour. Suddenly, Anderson and Wakeman, two signature elements in the Yes sound, were unavailable.
Jon and Rick really are irreplaceable, but the remaining core of Yes made the controversial decision to soldier on with two new members. Benoit David, a Canadian singer in a Yes tribute band was asked to step into Jon’s shoes and Oliver Wakeman, Rick’s son, was handed his father’s old cape so to speak. For old guard fans, the newest configuration of Yes had morphed into a tribute band.
It is hardly surprising that the Benoit configuration of Yes has taken its share of hits from many long-term fans of Yes. What is surprising is that the Benoit era is proving to be something of a scrappy success. Since 2008, Yes has released, Fly from Here, the group’s best studio album in ages, and In the Present: Live from Lyon, which features a well-chosen set list, great sound, and feisty performances.
Benoit is a singer who can sound enough like Anderson to make you temporarily forget that you are not hearing the real thing. Benoit has a good voice, probably better suited to Broadway than rock, but his voice lacks the magic ease Jon has with high notes. On In the Present, Benoit does occasionally show signs of strain in his higher register, but he does a respectable job, and then some, performing Yes classics like Heart of the Sunrise, And You and I and Starship Trooper. Sonically and artistically, the version of Roundabout on the In the Present is one of the best I’ve heard live.
Newcomers Benoit and Oliver are at their best, however, in Machine Messiah, a track from the vastly underrated Drama album. The original version featuring Trevor Horn who had replaced Jon Anderson on vocals, had not been performed live since 1980. The live performance here is something of a revelation as the instrumental interplay between the band members and the strength of Benoit’s vocals exceed the high levels of the studio version.
Southside of the Sky works well too, though the musical chemistry between Oliver and Steve in the climatic instrumental battle does not quite match the musical rapport Steve has displayed with Rick in the past. Nevertheless, In the Present provides a snapshot of cohesive band that can still generate musical sparks. True, the tempos of these songs are slower than in yesteryear, but the music sounds spacious and mostly fresh. Steve Howe is particularly inventive throughout. For instance, I especially like his referencing a lick from Pacific Haze in the rarely performed Astral Traveler, a song which demonstrates some of the blistering energy of old and a concise and musically engaging drum solo by Alan White. Steve’s acoustic solo, Corkscrew, is a tasteful gem.
Finally, the bonus DVD of In the Present Live contains a worthwhile 52 minute documentary on the band, which includes full video performances of Roundabout and Machine Messiah. Sonically and visually these tracks show Yes in fine form.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Jon Anderson - Cage of Freedom
The1980s were a very creative and successful time for Jon Anderson. Yes’ 90125 was a blockbuster hit, Jon & Vangelis were garnering commercial and critical acclaim, and Jon’s solo career was in full swing with popular albums like Animation, 3 Ships and In the City of Angels.
In 1984, Jon found time to contribute the song Cage of Freedom to the soundtrack for Georgio Morodor’s Metropololis Redux. The film is a restoration version of the 1926 silent sci-fi classic directed by the legendary Fritz Lang, but with music provided by popular performers from the 1980s, including Freddy Mercury, Adam Ant, and Bonnie Tyler.
Metropolis remains one of the most visually impressive, influential, and thought provoking films in cinematic history. Its central theme, egregious social and economic inequality, is as pertinent today as ever. As the philosopher Plato noted, there is nothing more tragic than a city divided against itself, where one half of the population live in luxury, but where the other half are plunged into grief.
Metropolis tells the story of carefree elite which populate the skyscrapers of a futuristic city. These fortunate sons and daughters fritter their time and energy away on idle pursuits and trivial pleasures, much as we moderns anesthetize ourselves with “reality TV,” computer games, and the like. However, beneath the great city a vast underclass toils incessantly to provide the energy that powers the great Metropolis. The lives of these underground dwellers are so bleak that they plan a revolt, which ultimately threatens to destroy the all of Metropolis. In the end, disaster is averted, but only because masses that built Metropolis and the elites that planned it are forced to work together.
Today, the gap between the haves and the have-nots has widened to alarming proportions. The lessons of Metropolis (and history) suggest that such economic imbalances are inherently unstable. Put simply, economic injustice inevitably entails forms of oppression. Jon Anderson’s song, Cage of Freedom, zeroes in on a subtle form of oppression, namely the totalitarian potential of technology.
In Metropolis, the elites use video surveillance to track and subvert to workers. Director Fritz Lang was a visionary, but not even he could have imagined all the computer gizmos and gadgets that can be used today to track our every move. The lyrics of Cage of Freedom hone in how we are so often complicit in Orwellian forms and structures that govern our lives. Anderson sings, for example:
To make it safer we double the guard
Cage of freedom
There’s no escaping
We fabricated this world on our own.
There's no exit, there's no entrance
Remember how we swallowed the key?
Cage of freedom, that's our prison
We fabricated this world on our own.
Smart phones, I-Pads, and computers supposedly liberate us, but they can also be used to track our every move and devour our privacy. We love our personal data assistants and it can be hard to imagine life without them, but it also true that they ensnare us in many ways too. In fact, we hardly notice the subtle ways these devices can contribute to an Orwellian environment.
The final lines in Cage of Freedom highlight how constant and pervasive surveillance, designed to keep us safe, has the potential to turn the public square into a prison:
Big brother
Is there a bigger one watching you
Or is there one smaller
Who I should be watching too
Infinite circles of
Snakes eating their own tails
For every one chasing
Another is on the trail
Is that a friend
Can you tell, is he on your side?
'Cause I spy with my little eye
Yet another spy...
Metropolis and Jon Anderson’s Cage of Freedom examine the potentially sinister and dystopian aspects of technology. Cage of Freedom does not appear on any of Jon’s solo albums, so it is often overlooked, but I believe fans of Jon’s work will want to check it out. Both the song and the film are as pertinent as ever. For those who are interested, I explore this theme in greater length in my book “Yes and Philosophy” available in Amazon’s Kindle store.
In 1984, Jon found time to contribute the song Cage of Freedom to the soundtrack for Georgio Morodor’s Metropololis Redux. The film is a restoration version of the 1926 silent sci-fi classic directed by the legendary Fritz Lang, but with music provided by popular performers from the 1980s, including Freddy Mercury, Adam Ant, and Bonnie Tyler.
Metropolis remains one of the most visually impressive, influential, and thought provoking films in cinematic history. Its central theme, egregious social and economic inequality, is as pertinent today as ever. As the philosopher Plato noted, there is nothing more tragic than a city divided against itself, where one half of the population live in luxury, but where the other half are plunged into grief.
Metropolis tells the story of carefree elite which populate the skyscrapers of a futuristic city. These fortunate sons and daughters fritter their time and energy away on idle pursuits and trivial pleasures, much as we moderns anesthetize ourselves with “reality TV,” computer games, and the like. However, beneath the great city a vast underclass toils incessantly to provide the energy that powers the great Metropolis. The lives of these underground dwellers are so bleak that they plan a revolt, which ultimately threatens to destroy the all of Metropolis. In the end, disaster is averted, but only because masses that built Metropolis and the elites that planned it are forced to work together.
Today, the gap between the haves and the have-nots has widened to alarming proportions. The lessons of Metropolis (and history) suggest that such economic imbalances are inherently unstable. Put simply, economic injustice inevitably entails forms of oppression. Jon Anderson’s song, Cage of Freedom, zeroes in on a subtle form of oppression, namely the totalitarian potential of technology.
In Metropolis, the elites use video surveillance to track and subvert to workers. Director Fritz Lang was a visionary, but not even he could have imagined all the computer gizmos and gadgets that can be used today to track our every move. The lyrics of Cage of Freedom hone in how we are so often complicit in Orwellian forms and structures that govern our lives. Anderson sings, for example:
To make it safer we double the guard
Cage of freedom
There’s no escaping
We fabricated this world on our own.
There's no exit, there's no entrance
Remember how we swallowed the key?
Cage of freedom, that's our prison
We fabricated this world on our own.
Smart phones, I-Pads, and computers supposedly liberate us, but they can also be used to track our every move and devour our privacy. We love our personal data assistants and it can be hard to imagine life without them, but it also true that they ensnare us in many ways too. In fact, we hardly notice the subtle ways these devices can contribute to an Orwellian environment.
The final lines in Cage of Freedom highlight how constant and pervasive surveillance, designed to keep us safe, has the potential to turn the public square into a prison:
Big brother
Is there a bigger one watching you
Or is there one smaller
Who I should be watching too
Infinite circles of
Snakes eating their own tails
For every one chasing
Another is on the trail
Is that a friend
Can you tell, is he on your side?
'Cause I spy with my little eye
Yet another spy...
Metropolis and Jon Anderson’s Cage of Freedom examine the potentially sinister and dystopian aspects of technology. Cage of Freedom does not appear on any of Jon’s solo albums, so it is often overlooked, but I believe fans of Jon’s work will want to check it out. Both the song and the film are as pertinent as ever. For those who are interested, I explore this theme in greater length in my book “Yes and Philosophy” available in Amazon’s Kindle store.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Yes and the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame
This year, The Beastie Boys were inducted into the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame. The Beastie Boys have probably sold a zillion records, but you probably need to have Van Gogh’s ear for music to appreciate their “artistry.” Personally, I think their “music” is the sonic equivalent of a root canal procedure. However, there is no denying that The Beastie Boys are proof positive that you don’t necessarily need musical talent to succeed in the music business.
Musical talent, of course, is not always a hindrance when it comes to success in the music business. Groups like Yes, The Moody Blues, and Jethro Tull have each sold in the neighborhood of 40 - 60 million records while carving out successful careers that have endured for five decades and counting. All three of these progressive dinosaurs are still touring. Indeed, Yes is not only still touring, but they also recently released a studio effort, Fly From Here, which is their most successful and rewarding album in decades.
Yes, Tull, and The Moody Blues share a number of things in common. They are bands with a fine sense of melody, they are renowned for their instrumental excellence, each group has a dedicated fan base, and each group has produced ground-breaking classic albums. Put simply, The Moody Blues’ Day of Future Passed, Tull’s Aqualung, and Yes’ Close to the Edge are highly regarded and highly influential milestones in rock music.
Yes, Tull, and The Moody Blues share another feature in common; they have been repeatedly snubbed by The Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame. The Hall of Fame’s criteria seems objective: “We shall consider factors such as an artist's musical influence on other artists, length and depth of career and the body of work, innovation and superiority in style and technique, but musical excellence shall be the essential qualification of induction.”
Can anyone doubt that Yes’ monster hit Roundabout raised the bar to a whole new level for rock musicians? Similarly, The Moody Blues’ The Nights in White Satin, was a pioneering effort in fusing a rock band with an orchestra. Indeed, Days of Future Passed is arguable the first true concept album in rock, at least in so far as the Beatles Sgt. Peppers was always something of a faux concept. Additionally, Ian Anderson was not only the first flutist in rock he was also one of first true virtuoso musicians in rock.
By any standard – sales, influence, innovation, body of work, musical excellence – Yes, Tull, and The Moody Blues deserve recognition as the epitome of excellence in rock music. These are groups that pushed the envelope in so many ways. Yes, Tull, and The Moody Blues included classical-caliber musicians like Steve Howe, Ian Anderson, and Patrick Moraz. When you talk about “superiority in style and technique” you are talking about musicians like these.
Yes, Tull, and The Moody Blues have demonstrated their musical excellence over five decades. Each of these groups as produced several albums that can be classified as iconic or classic. If future generations are listening to and studying popular music from the late 20th century it will likely include music from To Our Children’s Children, Tales from Topographic Oceans, and Thick as a Brick. Each of these albums is bold, experimental, and aesthetically rewarding.
The judges who have snubbed Yes, Tull, and The Moody Blues may think these groups are pretentious. In truth, it is the judges who are pompous and hypocritical in so far as they’d establish criteria for musical excellence and then induct groups like The Beastie Boys over Yes, Tull, and the Moody Blues. Of course, getting into the hall of fame would be a career boost to Yes, Tull, and The Moody Blues. But having the Hall’s selection committee judge Yes, Tull and The Moody Blues makes about as much sense as asking the “chefs” at McDonald’s to judge a five star restaurant in Paris, or a panel of colorblind individuals to weigh in the works of Monet, Matisse, and Van Gogh.
Musical talent, of course, is not always a hindrance when it comes to success in the music business. Groups like Yes, The Moody Blues, and Jethro Tull have each sold in the neighborhood of 40 - 60 million records while carving out successful careers that have endured for five decades and counting. All three of these progressive dinosaurs are still touring. Indeed, Yes is not only still touring, but they also recently released a studio effort, Fly From Here, which is their most successful and rewarding album in decades.
Yes, Tull, and The Moody Blues share a number of things in common. They are bands with a fine sense of melody, they are renowned for their instrumental excellence, each group has a dedicated fan base, and each group has produced ground-breaking classic albums. Put simply, The Moody Blues’ Day of Future Passed, Tull’s Aqualung, and Yes’ Close to the Edge are highly regarded and highly influential milestones in rock music.
Yes, Tull, and The Moody Blues share another feature in common; they have been repeatedly snubbed by The Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame. The Hall of Fame’s criteria seems objective: “We shall consider factors such as an artist's musical influence on other artists, length and depth of career and the body of work, innovation and superiority in style and technique, but musical excellence shall be the essential qualification of induction.”
Can anyone doubt that Yes’ monster hit Roundabout raised the bar to a whole new level for rock musicians? Similarly, The Moody Blues’ The Nights in White Satin, was a pioneering effort in fusing a rock band with an orchestra. Indeed, Days of Future Passed is arguable the first true concept album in rock, at least in so far as the Beatles Sgt. Peppers was always something of a faux concept. Additionally, Ian Anderson was not only the first flutist in rock he was also one of first true virtuoso musicians in rock.
By any standard – sales, influence, innovation, body of work, musical excellence – Yes, Tull, and The Moody Blues deserve recognition as the epitome of excellence in rock music. These are groups that pushed the envelope in so many ways. Yes, Tull, and The Moody Blues included classical-caliber musicians like Steve Howe, Ian Anderson, and Patrick Moraz. When you talk about “superiority in style and technique” you are talking about musicians like these.
Yes, Tull, and The Moody Blues have demonstrated their musical excellence over five decades. Each of these groups as produced several albums that can be classified as iconic or classic. If future generations are listening to and studying popular music from the late 20th century it will likely include music from To Our Children’s Children, Tales from Topographic Oceans, and Thick as a Brick. Each of these albums is bold, experimental, and aesthetically rewarding.
The judges who have snubbed Yes, Tull, and The Moody Blues may think these groups are pretentious. In truth, it is the judges who are pompous and hypocritical in so far as they’d establish criteria for musical excellence and then induct groups like The Beastie Boys over Yes, Tull, and the Moody Blues. Of course, getting into the hall of fame would be a career boost to Yes, Tull, and The Moody Blues. But having the Hall’s selection committee judge Yes, Tull and The Moody Blues makes about as much sense as asking the “chefs” at McDonald’s to judge a five star restaurant in Paris, or a panel of colorblind individuals to weigh in the works of Monet, Matisse, and Van Gogh.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Jon Anderson -- Survival and Other Stories - Review
Jon Anderson’s voice has been a beacon of light for more than 40 years. As the mystical singer of Yes, Jon helped define progressive rock in 1970s, creating some of the most ambitious and timeless musical works of his generation. In the 1980s, Anderson paired up with the Greek keyboard wizard Vangelis, a collaboration that resulted in hauntingly beautiful extended works like The Friends of Mr. Cairo and Horizons. And in the 1990s, Jon teamed up with the New-Age composer Kitaro to create the exquisite and inspiring music found on the album Dreams.
In the new millennium Anderson continued to work with Yes until life-threatening health issues led to his involuntary departure from the group he put his heart and soul into. The circumstances surrounding Jon’s rift with the band are unfortunate. However, true to form Jon has responded to the challenges life thrust upon him with personal and musical dignity. I saw Jon Anderson in concert in Ridgefield CT in 2010 and can personally attest that his unique musical gifts (and sense of humor) are well intact. Jon is still in very good voice and his music and stage presence are as enchanting as ever.
Jon is best experienced in small venues, which allow for an intimate setting and a real rapport with the audience. Recording technology is amazing, but no CD or recording can truly capture the magic of hearing Jon live. Nevertheless, his new album, Survival and Other Stories does what good music should do; namely, it creates a bond with its listeners.
Jon’s music on Survival and Other Stories is both highly personal and deeply felt. Unbroken Spirit touches on Jon’s health crisis and his struggle to maintain his spirit in the face of bodily decline. This is not the kind of fare you’d expect from a rock singer, but this gentle, almost whimsical song is suffused with a melodic grace that is touching and inspiring.
Jon is in remarkably good voice throughout this record, which is a wonder considering his health issues. Nevertheless, one can’t help but notice a certain frailty and vulnerability in his sound. If anything, I think this works to the music’s advantage because I believe age has extended the emotional range in Jon’s voice. Paradoxically, Jon may sound more emotionally exposed, but he is also more inspiring than ever.
There is a wealth of great melodies on this album. Love and Understanding, for example, is as uplifting and melodically exuberant as anything Jon Anderson has ever done. The music here is just full of an irrepressible soul-nourishing joy. Just One Man, on the other hand, is an achingly beautiful song that expresses Jon’s belief that hope can triumph over mankind’s tragic condition.
If I were to use just one word to describe the music on the album it would be “organic.” The songs here are wholesome, refreshing, and soul-nourishing. Jon’s spirit is shining as brightly as ever on his new album. This is music that will warm your heart and touch your soul.
In the new millennium Anderson continued to work with Yes until life-threatening health issues led to his involuntary departure from the group he put his heart and soul into. The circumstances surrounding Jon’s rift with the band are unfortunate. However, true to form Jon has responded to the challenges life thrust upon him with personal and musical dignity. I saw Jon Anderson in concert in Ridgefield CT in 2010 and can personally attest that his unique musical gifts (and sense of humor) are well intact. Jon is still in very good voice and his music and stage presence are as enchanting as ever.
Jon is best experienced in small venues, which allow for an intimate setting and a real rapport with the audience. Recording technology is amazing, but no CD or recording can truly capture the magic of hearing Jon live. Nevertheless, his new album, Survival and Other Stories does what good music should do; namely, it creates a bond with its listeners.
Jon’s music on Survival and Other Stories is both highly personal and deeply felt. Unbroken Spirit touches on Jon’s health crisis and his struggle to maintain his spirit in the face of bodily decline. This is not the kind of fare you’d expect from a rock singer, but this gentle, almost whimsical song is suffused with a melodic grace that is touching and inspiring.
Jon is in remarkably good voice throughout this record, which is a wonder considering his health issues. Nevertheless, one can’t help but notice a certain frailty and vulnerability in his sound. If anything, I think this works to the music’s advantage because I believe age has extended the emotional range in Jon’s voice. Paradoxically, Jon may sound more emotionally exposed, but he is also more inspiring than ever.
There is a wealth of great melodies on this album. Love and Understanding, for example, is as uplifting and melodically exuberant as anything Jon Anderson has ever done. The music here is just full of an irrepressible soul-nourishing joy. Just One Man, on the other hand, is an achingly beautiful song that expresses Jon’s belief that hope can triumph over mankind’s tragic condition.
If I were to use just one word to describe the music on the album it would be “organic.” The songs here are wholesome, refreshing, and soul-nourishing. Jon’s spirit is shining as brightly as ever on his new album. This is music that will warm your heart and touch your soul.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Yes - Fly from Here Review
Yes is a band known for transporting listeners into uncharted musical spheres. Close the Edge ventured into cosmic states of consciousness, Gates of Delirium into the madness of war, and Tales from Topographic Oceans delved into mankind’s collective unconscious. Yes’ latest foray, Fly from Here is a comparatively down to earth affair (it merely entails a voyage into the nostalgic realm of vintage air travel circa the 1940s).
The subject of time travel is entirely appropriate given the origins of Yes’ latest epic, which first surfaced as an unreleased demo from the sessions of the Drama album recorded some thirty years ago. That album was the first and only album to feature The Buggles, the pop duo of Trevor Horn and Geoff Downes, who replaced the irreplaceable Jon Anderson and Rick Wakeman. Drama, however, turned out to be a solid, cohesive, and musically rewarding effort, but the newly configured Yes disbanded shortly thereafter.
Trevor Horn became a successful producer. Geoff Downes went on to form Asia. And Yes has continued its musical rollercoaster journey while shuffling its membership like musical chairs. Jon Anderson and Rick Wakeman have returned to and left Yes so many times that I’m convinced that the song Roundabout refers to the revolving door members pass through on their way in and out of the band.
Recent health problems have sidelined Jon and Rick from the band. In a seeming act of desperation, Yes enlisted the vocal services of a young Canadian singer named Benoit David after discovering him on YouTube. Shortly thereafter, Yes announced they were returning to the studio to record their first album in a decade. Before long, the band leaked word that the Buggles were back on board Yes too; Trevor Horn would produce the album and Geoff Downes would take over keyboards from Oliver Wakeman, Rick’s son, who had donned his father’s old cape, so to speak.
By now, it seemed that the Yes saga had more plot twists and personnel changes than a daytime soap opera. All the indicators suggested that Fly from Here was destined to be a musical letdown. Against all odds, Fly from Here is the closest Yes has come to a musical masterpiece in more than thirty years.
The choice of Beniot David has proven to be inspiration rather than desperation. Following Jon Anderson is no easy feat, but Benoit has a strikingly beautiful voice, particularly in the lower and middle registers. Like Anderson, Benoit also has the ability to soar vocally, but on the new album he wisely avoids trying to duplicate Anderson. Instead, Benoit puts his own stamp on the new material. In a band of world-class musicians, Benoit manages to sound both astonishingly accomplished and remarkably relaxed for a newcomer. His vocals are effortlessly invigorating and a great fit for the band and the new music.
Trevor Horn and Geoff Downes deserve enormous credit for reinvigorating Yes. They are responsible for writing much of the new material, including the overture to the 24 minute title track, Yes’ longest epic ever. Yes is a band that knows how to make a musical entrance, and opening of Fly from Here is Yes at its breathtaking best. The piece begins with a simple but haunting refrain from Geoff Downes’ keyboards. New musical lines are added in fugue like fashion. By the time Chris Squire’s thunderous bass enters you’ll know it’s time to fasten your safety belt. When Steve Howe’s guitar enters the mix you’ll know you’re heading for a destination that isn’t on any map.
The title track consists of six song-suites which segue into one another. Like classical music, Yes introduce a musical motif and then develop that theme in interesting and complex ways. Yes has used this technique before, but not since Close to the Edge and Tales from Topographic Oceans has Yes used it so effectively.
What matters in music, of course, is emotion, the ability to stir listeners, imbue them with a sense of wonder, and tap deep feelings.
There are several passages in Fly from Here that are as intense as anything Yes has ever done. That is to say, there are some soul-stirring moments in this work. Sad Night at the Airfield, in my view, is simply magnificent. Here, the tasteful elegance of Steve Howe’s acoustic guitar is perfectly matched by Beniot David’s exquisite vocals. The song begins wonderfully, but things really take off near the end with a heavenly chorus and Steve Howe’s sublime steel pedal guitar work. Suffice it to say, Sad Night at the Airfield is one of Yes’ finest moments ever.
Mad Man at the Screens contains the kind of music Yes fans live for. When Yes are clicking on all cylinders their music has a focus, power, and intensity that is hard to match. This is certainly the case with the mesmerizing coda to this track, where keyboardist Geoff Downes provides the musical sparks that ignite the band, essentially taking some terrific music up to a whole new level.
What I love about this album is its freshness and vitality. The music is consistently good, but on several occasions it soars clear out of sight. There is not a single unnecessary or throwaway song on the album. The Man You Always Wanted Me to Be showcases Chris Squire’s exceptional vocal talents. His innate musicality and sense of counterpoint harmony contribute to many thrilling moments throughout the album.
Steve Howe is a guitarist in a class by himself. His solo acoustic piece, Solitaire, is everything Yes fans and guitar aficionados have come to expect from him. It is a gentle, warm, and tasteful piece that brings out the natural beauty and magic of the guitar.
I’d be amiss if I overlooked Alan White’s contribution. White is to percussion what George Harrison was to the guitar. In other words, White is not the flashiest guy around, but he always plays great and he always provides just exactly what the music needs. The tandem of Squire and White provide Yes with a peerless rhythm section gives the music on Fly from Here a sense of forward momentum.
Fly from Here concludes with Into the Storm, a song that combines Yes’ cosmic approach with some self-deprecating humor. The song exhibits all the ingredients that make Fly from Here such a winning album: wonderful melodies, a pervasive sense that the band members are having fun, and musical passages that consistently take off in unexpected but exciting directions.
Fly from Here is the freshest, most exciting, and confident music Yes has made in decades. Newcomer Benoit David earns his Yes wings by doing such an unexpectedly fantastic job with the lead vocals. Ditto Trevor Horn and Geoff Downes, who have returned to the Yes fold after a 30 year hiatus. Fly from Here, like the best of Yes’ music, is a grand musical adventure that includes many spectacular soundscapes and thrilling musical vistas. Bravo, gentlemen
The subject of time travel is entirely appropriate given the origins of Yes’ latest epic, which first surfaced as an unreleased demo from the sessions of the Drama album recorded some thirty years ago. That album was the first and only album to feature The Buggles, the pop duo of Trevor Horn and Geoff Downes, who replaced the irreplaceable Jon Anderson and Rick Wakeman. Drama, however, turned out to be a solid, cohesive, and musically rewarding effort, but the newly configured Yes disbanded shortly thereafter.
Trevor Horn became a successful producer. Geoff Downes went on to form Asia. And Yes has continued its musical rollercoaster journey while shuffling its membership like musical chairs. Jon Anderson and Rick Wakeman have returned to and left Yes so many times that I’m convinced that the song Roundabout refers to the revolving door members pass through on their way in and out of the band.
Recent health problems have sidelined Jon and Rick from the band. In a seeming act of desperation, Yes enlisted the vocal services of a young Canadian singer named Benoit David after discovering him on YouTube. Shortly thereafter, Yes announced they were returning to the studio to record their first album in a decade. Before long, the band leaked word that the Buggles were back on board Yes too; Trevor Horn would produce the album and Geoff Downes would take over keyboards from Oliver Wakeman, Rick’s son, who had donned his father’s old cape, so to speak.
By now, it seemed that the Yes saga had more plot twists and personnel changes than a daytime soap opera. All the indicators suggested that Fly from Here was destined to be a musical letdown. Against all odds, Fly from Here is the closest Yes has come to a musical masterpiece in more than thirty years.
The choice of Beniot David has proven to be inspiration rather than desperation. Following Jon Anderson is no easy feat, but Benoit has a strikingly beautiful voice, particularly in the lower and middle registers. Like Anderson, Benoit also has the ability to soar vocally, but on the new album he wisely avoids trying to duplicate Anderson. Instead, Benoit puts his own stamp on the new material. In a band of world-class musicians, Benoit manages to sound both astonishingly accomplished and remarkably relaxed for a newcomer. His vocals are effortlessly invigorating and a great fit for the band and the new music.
Trevor Horn and Geoff Downes deserve enormous credit for reinvigorating Yes. They are responsible for writing much of the new material, including the overture to the 24 minute title track, Yes’ longest epic ever. Yes is a band that knows how to make a musical entrance, and opening of Fly from Here is Yes at its breathtaking best. The piece begins with a simple but haunting refrain from Geoff Downes’ keyboards. New musical lines are added in fugue like fashion. By the time Chris Squire’s thunderous bass enters you’ll know it’s time to fasten your safety belt. When Steve Howe’s guitar enters the mix you’ll know you’re heading for a destination that isn’t on any map.
The title track consists of six song-suites which segue into one another. Like classical music, Yes introduce a musical motif and then develop that theme in interesting and complex ways. Yes has used this technique before, but not since Close to the Edge and Tales from Topographic Oceans has Yes used it so effectively.
What matters in music, of course, is emotion, the ability to stir listeners, imbue them with a sense of wonder, and tap deep feelings.
There are several passages in Fly from Here that are as intense as anything Yes has ever done. That is to say, there are some soul-stirring moments in this work. Sad Night at the Airfield, in my view, is simply magnificent. Here, the tasteful elegance of Steve Howe’s acoustic guitar is perfectly matched by Beniot David’s exquisite vocals. The song begins wonderfully, but things really take off near the end with a heavenly chorus and Steve Howe’s sublime steel pedal guitar work. Suffice it to say, Sad Night at the Airfield is one of Yes’ finest moments ever.
Mad Man at the Screens contains the kind of music Yes fans live for. When Yes are clicking on all cylinders their music has a focus, power, and intensity that is hard to match. This is certainly the case with the mesmerizing coda to this track, where keyboardist Geoff Downes provides the musical sparks that ignite the band, essentially taking some terrific music up to a whole new level.
What I love about this album is its freshness and vitality. The music is consistently good, but on several occasions it soars clear out of sight. There is not a single unnecessary or throwaway song on the album. The Man You Always Wanted Me to Be showcases Chris Squire’s exceptional vocal talents. His innate musicality and sense of counterpoint harmony contribute to many thrilling moments throughout the album.
Steve Howe is a guitarist in a class by himself. His solo acoustic piece, Solitaire, is everything Yes fans and guitar aficionados have come to expect from him. It is a gentle, warm, and tasteful piece that brings out the natural beauty and magic of the guitar.
I’d be amiss if I overlooked Alan White’s contribution. White is to percussion what George Harrison was to the guitar. In other words, White is not the flashiest guy around, but he always plays great and he always provides just exactly what the music needs. The tandem of Squire and White provide Yes with a peerless rhythm section gives the music on Fly from Here a sense of forward momentum.
Fly from Here concludes with Into the Storm, a song that combines Yes’ cosmic approach with some self-deprecating humor. The song exhibits all the ingredients that make Fly from Here such a winning album: wonderful melodies, a pervasive sense that the band members are having fun, and musical passages that consistently take off in unexpected but exciting directions.
Fly from Here is the freshest, most exciting, and confident music Yes has made in decades. Newcomer Benoit David earns his Yes wings by doing such an unexpectedly fantastic job with the lead vocals. Ditto Trevor Horn and Geoff Downes, who have returned to the Yes fold after a 30 year hiatus. Fly from Here, like the best of Yes’ music, is a grand musical adventure that includes many spectacular soundscapes and thrilling musical vistas. Bravo, gentlemen
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