Why Yes Didn't Make the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame

The Rock n Roll Hall of Fame is about as popular with Yes fans as Ebenezer Scrooge is with Santa’s elves.  By any objective measure – album sales, influence on other artists, cultural impact, longevity, and body of work – Yes meets or exceeds the RHOF’s supposedly objective standards.

Unfortunately, the institution’s bias against progressive rock seems pretty undeniable at this stage.  The Moody Blues, Jethro Tull and King Crimson are routinely ignored.  Yet, the Moody’s The Days of Future Passed and Crimson’s In the Court of the Crimson King are unquestionable milestones in the history of rock, rivaling Sgt. Pepper’s in terms of influence.  Tull’s back catalogue contains multiple seminal works too.

Yes’ instrumental excellence – the classic line-up sported four virtuoso musicians – enduring career (the band continues to tour, albeit without the incomparable Jon Anderson), and sentimental appeal (the band received waves of support from fellow musicians and the music press following bassist Chris Squire’s passing) apparently counted for little.  Neither did the fact that Close to the Edge routinely polls at or near the top of any list of the greatest progressive albums of all time.  Put simply, CttE is to prog music what Citizen Kane is to cinema.

Speaking of which, Orson Welles’s cinematic classic failed to score with critics or audiences when it was first released.  I don’t doubt that Yes’s music will be vindicated by posterity too.  Unfortunately, the judges representing the RHOF are about as qualified to pass judgment on Yes’s as the celebrity panelists on American Idol would be to evaluate the music of Vivaldi.  There’s a reason Yes isn’t in the RHOF.  It has little to do with the band’s musical merits, and everything to do with the fact that mediocrity never acknowledges anything higher than itself.

Vote Yes Into the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame

I’ll never forget the first time I heard Yes.  The melancholic natural harmonics that emerged out of a backward piano chord seemed both antiquated and timeless.  Then there was that hypnotic bass riff that doubled back on itself – what a hook!  The cryptic lyrics delivered with surgical precision only upped the ante.  Then there were those neo-baroque keyboard fills and the exotic multi-layered percussion – these guys could play, they had a wide musical palette.  The music painted pictures, and my mind was a canvas.

I was not alone.  Roundabout was a song that raised the bar in rock music and inspired countless musicians.  The death of Chris Squire this summer was a blow to everyone who appreciated progressive rock, but it also was an occasion for an outpouring of admiration for the band’s immense influence in the musical world.

Yes fan know it.  Classics like Roundabout, Close to the Edge and Awaken will stand the test of time.  This is music with “structure and vision,” to quote the philosopher Bill Martin.  Audiences will probably be playing works like The Gates of Delirium or Ritual for centuries because this is music with artistry and depth.  These pieces speak to the human condition and invite new critical assessment and interpretation.

That is one reason Yes deserves to be inducted into the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame – they have created an enduring body of work with albums that have genuine musical merit.

By any of the other objective measures – record sales, influence, longevity – Yes more than fits the bill to be inducted.  But there’s a final sentimental reason Yes deserves the nod.  Put simply, it would be wonderful to see founding member Jon Anderson – the true voice of Yes – return to the fold, even if it’s just for an induction evening concert.  That’s why Yes fans should care.

Of course, being inducted will call attention to the music, introduce it to new fans and enhance the group’s legacy.  It may not happen, but it does matter.  Vote Yes.

Why Yes Deserves to be Inducted Into the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame

The rock group Yes is once again up for induction into the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame.  For many fans, the giants of progressive music require no such validation.  The high regard works like “Close to the Edge” have earned over the years is proof positive that their music will endure.  Indeed, a critic for the Times of London once speculated that Yes’ 70s epics were just the kind of timeless music that would interest audiences centuries from now.

That’s a pretty heady thought.  Mozart, Beethoven and Bach created music of great originality, passion and soul.  The structure of their music, the melodic inventiveness, harmonic complexity and intimation of a personal vision expressed in a musical language still speaks to us.  We still listen because their music carries echoes of their genius.

The same can be said, I would argue, for Yes’s finest efforts –  by that I mean “Close to the Edge,”  “The Gates of Delirium,” “Awaken,” and “Tales from Topographic Oceans.”  This is music brimming with ambition, artistry, imagination and instrumental virtuosity.

The legendary music executive, Ahmet Ertegun, once described Yes as a band that used sound to paint pictures.  This is a wonderful and apt description.  The palette they drew upon to express their sonic vision was equal to our innate thirst for authentic music pitched not at our wallets, but at our souls.  Yes music will speak to future ages because this is music that rewards repeated listening, stirs the imagination and reveals new marvels with each encounter.

I hope the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame recognizes Yes’ musical excellence.  Perhaps beauty is in the ear of the beholder.  There an old Latin saying – de gustibus, non est disputandum (on matters of taste there can be no disputing).  Consequently, some argue that artistic merit can never be entirely objective because aesthetic standards are time-conditioned and subject to change.

Fashions change, of course, but some music seems to emerge from a deep reservoir of creativity.  Such music quenches our spirits, refreshes our imagination and replenishes our souls.   It is from such Topographic Oceans that we are brought Close to the Edge of life where we can Awaken to our highest potential.     

Yes Rocks Pier Six in Baltimore

Yes is a band that has always embodied paradox.  For 47 years they’ve maintained a signature sound while coping with multiple line-up shifts.  The personnel on albums like “Time and Word,” Close to the Edge,” the under-rated “Drama,” “90125” and the rejuvenated “Fly From Here” vary widely, but the music bears the unmistakable stamp of Yes.  When Chris Squire -- the sole thread stitching these diverse efforts together – passed away it seemed not only the end of an era, but very likely the finish of Yes too.

However, if the performance that I saw at Pier Six in Baltimore, Maryland on August 12^th is any indication, then reports of the group’s demise appear to be greatly exaggerated.  Put simply, the band I witnessed was crisp, spirited and clearly on top of its game despite the grievous loss it suffered just months ago.

There was a celebratory atmosphere that evening -- musicians giving it their all to honor a fallen comrade and fans eager to applaud the music and life of the inimitable man who revolutionized the role of the bass guitar and stretched the boundaries of progressive rock.

But this was not just some obligatory tribute – let alone a tribute band as some cynics might suggest – but rather a genuine exhibition and affirmation of the musical positivity and chemistry Squire dedicated his life to.  It started with the set list, which contained a welcome mix of overlooked gems (“Don’t Kill the Whale” and “Time and a Word,”) progressive workouts (“America” and “Siberian Khatru”) and the inevitable greatest hits.  But it was the spot-on performances, which conveyed more than a hint of the power and majesty of Yesteryear, that sealed the deal as far as this Yes fan was concerned.

To begin with, Steve Howe’s fretwork was a mixture of ferociousness and grace.  His climatic solo during the coda of “Siberian Khatru” was blistering and inspired.  The rest of the band seemed equal to the challenge.  For instance, Billy Sherwood handled his mentor’s parts with a mixture of aplomb and deference.  He maintained a low-key stage presence but his deft handling of the supporting vocals and bass duties had me thinking that Squire would be winking with approval.  He seemed locked in with Alan White, who was nothing less than authoritative on the drums.

Geoff Downes and Jon Davison rounded out a configuration that seemed to hitting all the right notes – musical and otherwise -- while nailing the spirit of the music too.  I have a feeling Chris Squire was saying Yes to this lineup on Aug 12^th . . . I know I was.  

Tales from Sunset Days: Review of "Like it Is: Live at the Mesa Arts Center" by Yes

The recent passing of Chris Squire represents a sad turn of events in the story of Yes.  His inimitable bass and distinctive backup vocals were a signature element in the band’s mix.

The respectable performances that make up the “Like it Is” series do not capture the group at its glorious peak, but there may rewarding moments nonetheless.  Squire’s hypnotic bass and heavenly singing during “The Fish” still manage to send a shudder down my spine.  “Heart of the Sunrise” may not have the urgency and dynamic range it once had, but Steve Howe's limpid phrasing shines within the slower tempo.

In “Close to the Edge” Geoff Downes seems to be approximating Rick Wakeman during the climatic solo, but he acquits himself quite nicely on “Cans and Brahms” and also the scintillating finale to “South Side of the Sky.”

Jon Davison sounds fresh and involved throughout, an important element in this concert document of “Fragile” and “Close to the Edge” performed by a supernova of a group entering its twilight phase.  There are sparks and shimmers of greatness, mixed along with mere adequacy too.  But Squire’s thunderous bass and heavenly vocals generate more than enough lightning on this outing to make it all worthwhile.

RIP Chris Squire

Yes is a band that shouldn’t have worked, but it did.  They were composed from contradictory elements that somehow managed to complement one another.  Chris Squire’s thunderous bass and earthy personality were the perfect counterpoint to Jon Anderson’s heavenly tenor and cosmic outlook.  These guys were the foundation upon which Roundabout, Close to the Edge, Awaken, and The Gates of Delirium were built.

Chris, the central pillar in of the House of Yes, is now gone.   Jon has not been a part of the group for more than a decade.  It feels like the end of an era.  No doubt, Yes music will continue in some form or another.  But Chris’ signature sound and sublime harmonic instinct – whether on bass or as supporting vocalist – will be sorely missed.  Rest in Peace, Chris, you have had a hand in creating some of the greatest music of our age . . . and for the ages as well.  And peace be with your family too.  

God Speed Chris Squire

Recently, Yes fans learned that Chris Squire, co-founder of the most influential progressive rock band ever, has a rare form of leukemia.  This is sobering news indeed and a reminder that brilliant, timeless and heavenly music is created by fragile and mortal creatures.

For about forty-seven years, Chris has been the only constant in the band’s ever changing line-up.  If Jon Anderson is the voice of Yes, then surely Squire has been its torch bearer.

It’s a shame that group’s two founding members find themselves estranged.  Both have endured serious health issues, but undoubtedly past business matters and personal friction have created a rift that extends into the fan base as well.  Yet, both Chris’s version of Yes and Jon’s solo career have created positive, upbeat and rewarding music.

What made Yes’ best music work was a peculiar mix of incongruous elements.  Squire’s down-to-earth personality and pop-sensibility complemented Anderson’s ethereal and cryptic tendencies.  Jon could soar so high, both vocally and in terms of musical ambitions, in no small measure because Chris anchored everything with his rock-solid but innately melodic bass.

It’s hard to contemplate Yes without Chris Squire.  I appreciate his friend, Billy Sherwood, stepping in Chris’s large boots to keep the flame alight.  God speed Chris, we are all hoping for a full recovery and the day when your thunderous bass will roar again. 

Yes -- "Heaven & Earth" Reviewed. "Is it the end of Yes?

Yes, like the London Symphony Orchestra, is an institution with a revolving line-up.  Nevertheless, some members, notably Jon Anderson, have made such an indelible impression that is hard to think of Yes as existing without him.   No matter the strengths of “Fly From Here,” or “Drama” for that matter, the absence of Anderson hovers over any project involving the remaining elements of Yes.  Put simply, his voice, lyrical approach, and artistic vision elevated Yes’ best music to a level no other configuration of the band has come close to matching.

“Heaven & Earth” is the second album in row from the band going by the name of “Yes,” which doesn’t feature the inimitable Anderson.   Squire & company’s decision to head in a decidedly popish direction isn’t likely to endear the album with a certain segment of die-hard fans, who understandably long for something grand, ambitious, and genuinely aesthetic.  Nevertheless, “Heaven & Earth” is an album suffused with the signature Yes sound, many inspiring moments, and some outstanding instrumental passages.  True, some of the tunes have a simplistic sing-song quality, but I find the music consistently veers off in interesting directions.  “In a World of Our Own” is Beatleseque, Howe’s upbeat “It Was All We Know” seems reminiscent of the band America, and the intro to “Subway Walls” has a faux-classical sound one might expect from ELO.  This is music that feels familiar, not challenging, but the music often defies expectations too.

“Subway Walls” is probably the most progressive track on the album.  The tune features a slowly-smoldering keyboard solo from Geoff, which leads into a haunting guitar passage from Howe.   The pace seems deliberately low-key, compared to previous Yes outbursts.  But it is effective nevertheless.  The same can be said for the album as a whole.  “Heaven & Earth” is pop sprinkled with progressive touches.  Yes-light, perhaps, but “Heaven & Earth” is hardly the end of the world – or Yes, for that matter – that some musical prophets have proclaimed.

Yes -- "In a World of Our Own" Reviewed

For almost forty years, Yes has been a band living in the shadow of its golden days.  During this time, Yes fans have hoped, mostly in vain, that the group could rekindle the musical magic they achieved in their 70’s heyday.  There have been bright spots along the way – the surprising spunk and cohesiveness of the underrated “Drama” album, the fresh accessibility of “90125,” and the revitalized energy of “Fly From Here” – and more than a few cloudy spots too (think “Tormato,” Big Generator,” and “Open Your Eyes”).

Even before its official release, the latest Yes album, “Heaven & Earth,” appears to be engendering hostility and contempt among critics and self-proclaimed die-hard fans.  To my mind, most of the online reviews I’ve read have lacked real wit, insight, or even the faintest pretense of objectivity.  I’ve just heard one new song from the album, “In a World of Our Own,” which I find to be a catchy, melodic, and enjoyable listen.   The song is popish in a Beatlesque kind of way with a nice groove and some stylish fretwork from the inimitable Steve Howe.  Nothing earth shattering, but hardly deserving the heaps scorn it has received from some quarters.

It understandable that some fans feel disappointed that Yes has failed to create another classic album.  The two songs I’ve heard thus far, “Believe Again” and “In a World of Our Own” lack the structure and vision of Yes’ best music.  Jon Davison has a sweet and appealing voice, but he lacks the soul and vision of the one-of-a-kind Anderson.   There is little point in comparing “Believe Again” and “In a World of Our Own” to songs like “Roundabout” and “And You and I.”  The latter is music made by a band pushing the envelope; the former is music made by a band playing it safe.  Nevertheless, I would much rather listen to “Believe Again” and “In a World of Our Own” than endure some of the more caustic reviews I've read. 

Yes - "Believe Again" Reviewed

Yes is like the mythological ship of Theseus, which is replaced plank by plank, but seemingly remains the same vessel.  Today, Yes fans are divided over the question whether Yes remains Yes without the visionary lyricist and vocalist, the inimitable Jon Anderson.

If an Platonic realm exists, then surely Jon Anderson, Chris Squire, Rick Wakeman, Steve Howe, and Bill Bruford, the quintet that created the band’s two most seminal works -- “Fragile” and “Close to the Edge”  --  constitute the eternal essence of Yesness.  But wait, doesn’t that leave out drummer Alan White, who has been a fixture in the band for more than forty years?  After all, White belongs in elite company too (and his contribution to “Relayer,” “Going for the One,” and “Tales from Topographic Oceans” is arguably just as important to Yes’ legacy as his predecessor Bill Bruford’s was).
 

The ship of Theseus remains an unsettled paradox.  And so the situation remains with Yes.  None of Anderson’s replacements have met – yet alone exceeded – the artistic standards he set.  Nevertheless, the “Drama” album is musically cohesive and rewarding and Trevor Horn does a decent job on vocals.  Likewise, “Fly From Here” lacks the gravitas of Yes’ best work, but the band sounds fresh, inspired, and full of life.  Moreover, and the album has a thematic unity not seen since Yes’ heyday in the 70’s.  Oh yeah, the much maligned Benoit David does a fine job singing on a record that happens to be one of Yes’ best efforts in decades.

Jon Davison is the latest plank in the Yes ship.  He has deservedly earned kudos for faithfully, capably, and reliably recreating Yes’ best works live on stage.  Now, Yes is set to release its first new album with Davison at the vocal helm.  “Believe Again” is the first taste of the new music and direction the band is charting.  It is a pleasant, uplifting, and accessible song with occasional flashes of inspiration.  There’s a beautiful intro, a nifty musical interlude, and some nice textural keyboard work from Geoff Downes, who sounds like he’s channeling Rick Wakeman.   Davison makes a strong vocal entry and sounds great paired up with Chris Squire.  But the structure, vision, and edge Anderson provided Yes’ best music is missing.  As a result, “Believe Again” meanders and Yes end up sounding like a more accomplished version of REO Speedwagon.  Still, I find the song growing on me and I find it more productive to enjoy the song than engage in futile debates about which line-up is the “real” Yes.  Yes, Jon Anderson was the best vocalist Yes ever had and probably ever will have.  But Yes is like a snake that sheds its skin so as to renew itself. 

Yes at the Borgata (a Review)

It has been thirty years since Yes’ golden age, an era during which they produced classics records such as “The Yes Album,” “Close to the Edge,” and “Going for the One.”  Since that time, the band has weathered commercial ups and downs, line-up changes, and the loss of Jon Anderson, a lead singer with a signature voice, visionary lyrics, and esoteric conceptual ambitions.

Anderson’s unique voice and artistic vision helped make Yes a complete anomaly in rock; a spiritual force that was more about musical excellence, mind-expansion, and cosmic ideas than chart-topping success.  Anderson and Yes split ways several years ago, but the band has continued to tour and record without him.

In 2013 and early 2014, a revamped Yes, led by Jon Davison, embarked on an ambitious tour, playing three of their most iconic albums – “The Yes Album,” “Close to the Edge,” and “Going for the One”-- in their entirety.  The tour concept has proven popular with audiences and a good fit for the band itself, which has sounded precise and energized.  Yes’ final performance featuring this set list was at the Borgata in Atlantic City, New Jersey.

Wrapping up the “three album tour,” Yes performed as well as they have in ages.  Jon Davision’s effortless high notes, angelic voice, and hippie demeanor easily conjures up memories of Jon Anderson.  Anderson has an inimitable voice, but Davison clearly sounds comfortable in the vocal stratosphere that so much Yes music demands.  Keyboardist Geoff Downes is fitting into the Yes mix as well.  Downes joined Yes in 1980, replacing the illustrious Rick Wakeman, in what then appeared to be a one-time effort (the vastly underrated “Drama” album and the subsequent tour).  On this night, Downes' keyboard fills in the coda of the rarely-played “A Venture” proved to be a highlight of the evening.  The remaining members of Yes (Steve Howe, Chris Squire, and Alan White) met or exceeded their customary high standards.  In short, the “three album” tour came to a fitting conclusion at the Borgata.  Yes turned in a solid performance of their best music before an enthusiastic audience.  There are ample reasons to believe this lineup will continue to remain a force to be reckoned with.

Free e-book: Yes and Philosophy -- Available Aug 3rd 2013

To help celebrate Yestival on August 3rd 2013 I will be offering all Yes fans a free copy of my e-book "Yes and Philosophy."  To get your free copy you can visit the Amazon website and download the book at no charge on Sat Aug 3rd.  I would ask anyone who enjoys the book to please consider writing a review for the Amazon site.   Thank you, and I hope you enjoy the book.

To see a sample essay please scroll below to "Roundabout: Metaphysics Set to Music."

Link to  book at Amazon (US): Yes and Philosophy

P.S:  Heck, while I'm at it I'm going to make my e-book Socrates in Cyberspace available for free August 3rd.  If you are interested in philosophy of mind then you may want to check it out.  Again, if you enjoy the book I hope you'll consider writing a review for Amazon. 

Roundabout: Metaphysics Set to Music

Forty years ago, the song Roundabout, hit the radio airwaves like a hurricane.  Most rock fans had never heard anything like it before.  Guitarist Steve Howe’s melancholic guitar intro sounded like something Segovia might play, but the classical style prologue was just the beginning of music that seemed space-age and baroque all at the same time. 

Roundabout, however, really blasted off with the introduction of Chris Squire’s phase-delayed bass, a mesmerizing riff that seemed to double back upon itself, like a snake eating its own tail.  Squire played the bass, a traditional back-up instrument, as if it was a lead instrument.  But this was hardly the only element that made the music in Roundabout stand out.  Drummer Bill Bruford’s exotic style owed more to jazz than rock and his percussion was multi-layered by engineer extraordinaire Eddie Offord to hypnotic effect.  And then there was the classically-trained Rick Wakeman contributing florid keyboard runs on a newfangled instrument known as the synthesizer.  Topping everything off was vocalist Jon Anderson, an alto-tenor who often sounded more like a choirboy than a traditional rock singer.  Anderson’s cryptic lyrics and otherworldly vocals imbued Roundabout with a mystic dimension.  Roundabout was the first taste most listeners had of the British progressive rock group known as Yes.

Roundabout raised the bar in rock music.  The musicians that composed Yes were regarded by fans and critics as virtuosos, the highest quality instrumentalists the rock genre had produced at the time.  Roundabout was infused with classical elements, but the song really rocked.  Yes it seemed, were pioneers of a new movement known as progressive rock.  With albums like Fragile, Close to the Edge, and Tales from Topographic Oceans, Yes were among the earliest and most successful groups to use rock instruments to create works of an orchestral length and style.

The visionary head of Atlantic records, the late Amhet Ertegun, once described Yes as a group that painted pictures with sounds.  This is a wonderfully paradoxical notion, but one that captures the mysterious ability of music to conjure up imagery and tap into the imagination.   Classical composers have long harnessed the power of music to represent natural phenomenon and emotional states, but until Yes few rock groups had a rich enough instrumental palette to conjure up such vivid and complex soundscapes.
 

Yes music is pitched to the auditory and visual imagination, but it is also capable of tapping into the abstract and/or philosophical imagination.  Schopenhauer once wrote that “Music is an unconscious exercise in metaphysics, in which the mind does not know it is philosophizing.”  This is a rather astounding thought.  Schopenhauer believed that music was the most authentic and immediate manifestation of the Will, the primal life-force that underlies our phenomenal reality.   In other words, Schopenhauer believed that it is through music that the conscious subject can encounter the mysterious and fundamental energies that underlie all existence.  No wonder Schopenhauer’s spiritual student, Nietzsche, claimed that life would be a mistake without music.

Roundabout is music that has the potential to plug listeners into a cosmic and philosophical state of mind.  It is music rich and enigmatic enough to reward repeated listening and serious analysis.  What exactly is a roundabout?  Anderson claims the lyrics were inspired by a traffic roundabout he encountered on the way to the recording studio, but a literal interpretation of such an evocative and imagistic song need not steer us in such a pedestrian direction, if you’ll forgive the pun.

The novelist Umberto Eco once identified what he called the “poetic effect,” which refers to a quality in texts and works of art that allow them to continue “to generate different readings, without ever being completely consumed.”  The lyrics and music of Roundabout exemplify the poetic effect.

In my view, there is a lot going on in the song to suggest that the term “roundabout” refers to a cosmic process symbolized by the mythical Uroboros, the snake that consumes its own tail.  The Uroboros, of course, is one of the most potent images in the mythic imagination.  Artwork and jewelry depicting the Uroboros date to earliest antiquity.  Descriptions of the Uroboros appear in the Egyptian Book of the Dead, Plato’s philosophy, and in the Hindu Upanishads.  The Uroboros was a frequently used motif in alchemy; the Swiss psychologist Carl Jung believed the Uroboros symbolically represented the psyche; and the chemist Kekule dreamt of a snake eating its own tail shortly before discovering that the structure of the benzene molecule resembled the Uroboros!  In short, the Uroboros is one of the most fundamental and far-reaching image/ideas in the history of humankind.

Yes fans, of course, are familiar with the Uroboros motif.  To begin with, artist Roger Dean’s famous Yes logo implicitly feeds into itself just as the mythical Uroboros does.  You can see this most explicitly with Dean’s Yes logo on the inner booklet of their latest album, Fly From Here, where the Yes logo is depicted as a snake twisting back upon itself.  But the motif actually crops up a lot in Yes’ work.  For instance, as philosopher Bill Martin notes in his  “Music of Yes: Structure and Vision in Progressive Rock,” Chris Squire’s phase-delayed bass in Roundabout seems to double back on itself, like a snake eating it own tail.  Furthermore, Roundabout is a song that explicitly comes full circle: the ending recapitulates the same acoustic guitar motif that song began with.

What is the philosophical significance of the Uroboros motif?  To begin with, The Uroboros motif seems to represent a central truth about the cosmos:  namely, that life feeds off itself.  The Uroboros devours itself, but in doing so it nourishes itself.  The Uroboros slays itself, but it is reborn in the process.  All mortal beings perish, but their lives feed the process of life.  The wheel of life spins eternally.  Yes actually explored this theme in an early song called Survival, but motif is developed with much greater poetic sophistication in Roundabout.

There is an even deeper way of looking at the Uroboros motif.  Scientists tell us that our Universe began with the Big Bang.  Prior to the Big Bang, time and space presumably did not yet exist.  There was only nothingness.  How can something (the universe) come out of nothingness?  The ancient Greeks believed nothing could come out of nothing.  The idea that the universe arose out of nothingness sounds like a paradox, if not a contradiction, but perhaps we can resolve this paradox by thinking in terms of no-thing-ness (i.e., no things).  At the Big Bang, all that existed was what scientists have called a quantum singularity.  Out of this uniform and entirely undifferentiated state (no-thing-ness) the entire cosmos was born.

Following the Big Bang, matter was formed.  As the universe cooled, sub-atomic particles began to form molecules.  Later, molecules arranged themselves into inorganic compounds.  Still later, simple self-replicating organisms such as bacteria emerged.  After this, single-celled organisms came onto the scene.  Soon, multi-cellular organism evolved.  Today, a highly complex multi-celled organism known as homo sapiens is able to trace the evolutionary path of a universe that has given birth to self-aware creatures capable of investigating their own evolutionary path and origins.  In other words, the path from the Big Bang to consciousness investigating the Big Bang is very much like the snake that twists back to bite its own tail.  As Anderson sings: 

I’ll be the Roundabout

The words will make you out and out.

The Princeton physicist John Wheeler would have appreciated this point of view.  Wheeler advocated something called the Anthropic Principle.  In its strongest from, the Anthropic Principle holds that sentient creatures are necessary for the universe to fully exist.  After all, as Wheeler puts it, “what good would the universe be if no one existed to observer it?  Wheeler’s outlook is shaped by the strange implications of quantum mechanics; particularly the notion that subatomic “particles” can exist in an indefinite state, until they are observed.  In other words, consciousness may be necessary to collapse the wave function of quantum level particles.  That is, Wheeler believed that the relationship between the quantum realm and consciousness was, in his own words, like “a smoky dragon biting its tail.” 

The Anthropic Principle is hard for many scientists to digest because it puts consciousness back at the center of creation.  If the Anthropic Principle is correct, then the emergence of sentient creatures is not just some fluke in an entirely random process of evolution.  Instead, the potential for sentience has been woven into the fabric of the universe all along; that is, sentience is something the universe aims at, even if the route it takes to get there is undetermined and even random.

The Uroboros and the Anthropic Principle would appear to imply a teleological view of nature.  That is, the Universe aims at something; most plausibly self-understanding.  That is, the Universe has evolved creatures capable of representing to cosmos to itself.  As Schelling put it, “we are the eyes and ears of the universe.”  If this view is correct, then consciousness is not a fluke, but an inextricable thread woven into the fabric of the universe.  Anderson echoes this view; in his solo DVD, A Tour of the Universe, Anderson insists that the purpose of life is to seek out the source of our creation.  This is a mystical outlook, no doubt, but it is a view that is in accord with many mystically inclined philosophers such as Pythagoras, Plato, and Schelling, to name a few.

The song Roundabout is a musical journey that travels full circle.  In the end, Roundabout revisits and recapitulates the acoustic guitar motif the song began with.   Musically, the song seems capture the same theme expressed in T.S. Eliot’s famous lines: 

We shall not cease from our exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time

Roundabout is music that takes listeners on a journey.  The song raised the bar in rock music by demonstrating that rock musicians could aspire to create serious music with an orchestral impact.  In particular, Yes’ exceptional ability to paint pictures with sound and create a rich sonic landscape listeners can explore and ponder is on full display here.  But Roundabout is not just a musical tour de force; it is also song that kindles the philosophical imagination.  This is not to say that Yes deliberately set out to express philosophical ideas.  Rather, as Schopenhauer noted, music can be an unconscious exercise in metaphysics.  Roundabout is not jut symphonic rock, it metaphysics set to music.

Scott O’Reilly is a freelance writer.  He is the author of Yes and Philosophy: The Spiritual and Philosophical Dimensions of Yes Music.  To learn more about Yes and Philosophy and my other books you can visit my author page at:  http://www.amazon.com/Scott-OReilly/e/B007C7POK0/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1  Contact:( neuroscott@aol.com)

Review: Yes at the Capitol Theatre in Port Chester NY July 28th 2013

Yes is a band that has had more ups and downs than an elevator operator.  Albums such as “Close to the Edge,” “The Yes Album,” and “Going for the One” represent the heights of progressive rock, but the group has also had its share of low points too (as bargain bin albums like “Open Your Eyes,” Big Generator,” and “Tormato” demonstrate).  On their 2013 tour, however, Yes is very much a band very much on the upswing.

Yes is celebrating their 45^th anniversary as a group this year.  To mark the occasion the band is performing three of its most popular and critically acclaimed albums (“Close to the Edge,” “The Yes Album,” and “Going for the One”) in their entirety and original running order on tour.  This approach has proven a hit with fans as Yes is playing to capacity crowds and rave reviews.  The acclamation is well-deserved.  Put simply, right now Yes is playing like a well-oiled machine firing on all cylinders.  Epics like “Awaken” and “Close to the Edge” are executed with musical precision, but there is also a freshness, vitality, and soul in the performances.

Newcomer Jon Davison is especially impressive and an exceptionally good fit for the band.  His voice may lack the uniqueness of the inimitable Jon Anderson, but he has a very attractive timbre, an innate musicality, an ease with his upper-register.  Time and again, Davison embellished familiar musical codas with novel inflections in ways that were surprising and inspired.  You’d have to be deaf (or a music critic at Rolling Stone) not appreciate the grace and beauty he added to Yes’ classics.

This is the first time I’ve been at a Yes concert where the crowd was on its feet following each and every song.  However, the band created many spine-tingling moments and the spontaneous applause and standing ovations were more than merited.  As is customary, Guitarist Steve Howe was in superb form.  If there is a more tasteful, imaginative, and dexterous six-stringer out there, then I haven’t heard him.  Geoff Downes may not be the kind of keyboardist to don a cape, but he was excellent throughout.  Indeed, his jazzy improvisation on the overlooked gem, “A Venture,” was a highlight.  The Squire/White rhythm section was crisp, powerful, and dynamic as well.        

Yes as long been ridiculed by critics at Rolling Stone and snubbed by the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, but as the 2013 tour progresses it is clear that Yes will let the music speak for itself.  Right now, as a live act Yes is on Everest.

Review Yes at The Beacon Theatre April 9th 2013

Thirty years ago, Yes was being compared to dinosaurs.  Today, as Yes celebrates its 45^th anniversary, the group is still trudging the musical landscape and showing no sign that they are near extinction.   They released their most successful album in decades last year (Fly From Here), they are embarked on an extensive tour this year, and another new album and world tour appear to be in works for 2014.  On Tuesday April 9^th the group performed at the famed Beacon Theatre in NYC to a sold out and decidedly enthusiastic crowd.  Both the set list and the musical performance came the closest in years to recapturing the Yes magic of yore.

In recent years, some fans have grumbled about slowing tempos, patchy vocals, and the absence of founding lead singer Jon Anderson.   There was little to gripe about on Tuesday night, however, as Yes delved into some of its most complex and ambitious extended works – most notably Close to the Edge and Awaken – with precision and gusto.  The set list included some of their most challenging material, but the band sounded energetic, cohesive, and near the top of their game.

Guitarist Steve Howe was his usual dexterous and inventive self.  Often switching between three or more guitars in a single song, Mr. Howe has a gift for avoiding the obvious and making each solo sound fresh and seemingly off the cuff.  His fretwork on the climatic portion of Siberian Khatru and a show-stopping solo in Awaken showed why he is one of the most admired guitarists around.

Highlights of the evening also included rarely performed tracks such as A Venture and Turn of the Century.  The former is a whimsical, off-beat tune with a jazzy keyboard coda; the latter a gentle ballad featuring exceptionally tasteful Spanish guitar and lilting piano.  In the both instances the interplay between keyboardist Geoff Downes and Mr. Howe was impressive and satisfying.

Indeed, tracks like Wondrous Stories showed just how good the musical interchange is between the various band members.  Here, Jon Davison light, ethereal voice came close to duplicating the magic of the inimitable Jon Anderson.   Drummer Alan White was in fine form throughout the night too.

Chris Squire’s unique bass and fine supporting vocals should be noted too.  Mr. Squire is the only remaining member of the group he helped found 45 years ago.  With his large frame and thunderous bass, Mr. Squire could easily be mistaken for some musical Tyrannosaurus Rex.  But it is in no small measure to his credit that Yes is outlasting the critics and detractors who insisted the days of Yes music were numbered.

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