Sometimes, the making of a reaction video leads you to a band or artist that resonates so profoundly with you that you need to explore their entire catalogue and discover everything there is to know about them. This was the case with Haken, Steven Wilson, Devin Townsend, Tool and of course, with the legendary and quintessential progressive rock band Yes. For all these artists I intend to write at length about them, about the journey and about my relationship with their music.
This is my story with Yes.
The band’s reputation preceded it. I was nervous of the orchestration, arrangements, composition, the undeniable progginess of it all. Where to begin? A sprawling, unfathomable discography spanning over 50 years, a fluid membership and distinct eras. I knew “Owner Of A Lonely Heart” – who didn’t? But that was all. I started looking out for Yes records on my usual vinyl hunts and picked up several early records – Close To The Edge, Fragile, Going For The One, The Yes Album, Yes…. but where to begin?
In The Beginning….
In the beginning, there was Close To The Edge. I can’t remember if it was as suggestion or just a lucky coincidence, but looking back, this was absolutely the right place to start. This was one of the several early Yes records I had picked up in anticipation of playing them on the channel.
Close To The Edge – 6th April 2021
There was nothing about the rather plain green sleeve of this record that could prepare me for the aural odyssey I was about to experience. The names Chris Squire, Jon Anderson and Steve Howe meant nothing to me. I’d heard of Bill Bruford, and I knew Rick Wakeman (not personally but I had once sold him 3 jars of pickles, 2 bottles of apple juice and some biscuits…. but that’s a story for another day!). However, that is where the story off Yes begins for me.
Released on 13th September 1972, Close To The Edge was the 5th studio album by Yes. It comprises three songs, the titular opus “Close To The Edge” filling all of side one, and “And You And I” and “Siberian Khatru” completing side two. The lineup of the band for this record was Jon Anderson on vocals and lyrics, Chris Squire on bass and backing, Rick Wakeman on keyboards, synthesisers and organs, Steve Howe on guitars and backing vocals, with Bill Bruford finishing the lineup on drums. Production duties were handled by Eddie Offord and the artwork was created by long time collaborator Roger Dean.
Without really knowing what to expect, I plugged in my headphones and pressed record on the camera. Incidentally, those headphones weren’t better than my normal ones – I was trying to kid myself because I thought my K701s were unsalvageable. I don’t use the green screen very often, but it worked well here, displaying the inner artwork and logos while keeping the shabbiness of my “work-in-progress” studio safely out of sight!
The sounds of nature, the water, the quietness of the beginning lulled me into a false sense of security, but like a drunk man staggering into view of a peaceful vista, the subsequent chaos of those early minutes of music really threw me off – very discordant and off-beat with some well placed “ahhh”s catching me off guard! But the resolution from the chaos to the sublime was worth the wait. And for the first time, I started to notice Chris Squire’s bass. It was a hallmark of Yes that I anticipated on every new record listened to after this. And I couldn’t work out where the song was going. I’ve now listened to this dozens of times and know the ebb and flow of the track, the genius of the writing, the excitement and anticipation. The repeating motifs and teasing of melodies pointed in one direction but you are spun around and sent in a completely different one. It felt like a patchwork of interconnecting pieces.
I get up, I get down…. that organ! Oh my god, that organ!!!!
Rhubarb and Custard… haha, if you’re not of a certain age and not British you’ll have no idea what I’m talking about, but there was a kids’ TV programme in the 70s who’s theme tune was almost exactly the same as the weird synth part after the majestic organ.
And another change. And another. Oh, and the bass!
And the song finishes with more nature, birdsong and a return to the way it all began. Perfect!
This song was as close to perfection as I had ever heard to this point in my life. People still to this day say to me in the comments “I don’t believe you’ve never heard this before” or “You’re a fraud, a fake”. Believe me, I had NEVER heard classic 70s Yes before and I am kicking myself to this day that I had never given it a chance.
I was very keen to hear side 2. I had to wait for a day and that was like torture! It starts with a beautifully picked guitar line that morphs into the rhythmic strumming and Moog synths before Jon’s voice lifts us back up again, but the tune he sings reminds me more of a Baroque madrigal than a rock song – such an unusual but effective melody. There are moments are akin to Beatles and Beach Boys harmonising – then the sweep of lush strings and guitar is incredible. Of course, the song changes again and reaches even greater heights…. oh, could this music be any better? Where has it been all my life? Inside, I was beating myself up for eschewing this band for my whole life. What riches and beauty had evaded me. I was determined to make up for lost time.
Even as the end of And You And I was becoming lodged into my memory banks, Siberian Khatru kicked in and cleared the decks for a whole new sound, funky, upbeat, incredible harmonies, and that bass and harpsichord section! I was falling in love with a band. This wasn’t meant to happen. I’m in my 50s, there isn’t space or capacity to fall hook, line and sinker for another band’s entire discography, but the more I heard, the more I knew I didn’t have a choice. I was falling hard.
My heart was slightly breaking as yet again, I’d become aware of a band in the twilight of their career, displaced and deceased members, the youthful ambition, experimental tendencies and “don’t give a fuck, break the rules” attitude to composition way off in the past. Yes were at their creative zenith when I was 2 years old. It is common parlance to “thank God” for things that have come to be so important to you. But in this case, it really is a case of thank Yes – thank Jon, Steve, Chris, Rick and Bill for this monumental achievement, the very pinnacle contemporary music. Over 50 years after its release, it still sounds like nothing else. The ride was just getting started.
Some of the Things You Said….
Another wanderer lost in the song. Jon, you did it again.
When I first heard this about 1976 my life changed. When it finished I had no idea what I had just heard but knew it was the most special thing I had ever heard.
Probably one of the best albums ever recorded
CTTE is the single greatest work of prog-rock ever. It literally defined the genre.
I’ve heard this 1,000 times and I just sat through every second of your reaction…mesmerized…again. Your one comment sums it up….timeless
This is one of the finest works that humans have achieved!
While listening to the greatest songs of Yes, there are two physical reactions: 1. Grooves in the forehead because of trying to follow the complexity 2. Grooves around of the mouth (smiling) because of liking and enjoying this music.
One word…masterpiece.
I had the same reaction when at age 48 I finally saw the Grand Canyon…it was like “wtf…this has been here all my life, only a few hours away, and I missed it?”
Promise me that you will never stop talking about that damn bass guitar!
As close to the concept of God through music there will be.
Ladies and gentlemen Chris Squire and Yes the greatest show on earth.
Jim’s Adventures In Music 