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.
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