Dan Hersch & Bill Inglot 2003 Stereo Remasters for Warner Music UK/USA

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Isao Kikuchi 2013 Stereo Remasters for Warner Music Japan

“Uh-oh.”

That had to be what Yesmen Chris Squire, Steve Howe, and Alan White were thinking in 1980 when not only keyboardist Rick Wakeman quit (again) but also singer Jon Anderson.

Their most recent effort, Tormato (1978), hadn’t fared as well commercially or critically as its predecessor, Going For The One (1977). Punk rock and new wave were coming into fashion, and YES – who never had much to do with trends anyway – were regarded as dinosaurs by both the press and younger artists. So the pressure was on when Anderson, Squire, Howe, White, and Wakeman convened in 1979 with producer Roy Thomas Baker, well-known for his work with Queen. For whatever reason, those sessions didn’t work out, and Anderson and Wakeman both bailed, each to pursue solo careers.

Wakeman’s departure wasn’t quite as traumatic; he was one of three YES keyboardists, and this was his second flight, so the band had experienced this before. On the other hand, fans saw him as the definitive YES keysman. When he reupped for Going For The One, it was hailed as a major return to form. How would they take him quitting a second time?

Yet that problem paled in comparison to replacing Jon Anderson. He was the band’s voice. After 12 years and ten albums, he and Squire were YES‘ only remaining founding members. More than that, to fans both men were (and, in the new millennium, still are) the twin pillars. What would YES mean without Jon Anderson singing? And why did he leave?

YES membership was always fluid: nine guys had passed through over the years, and the band never recorded more than two studio albums in a row without some kind of roster disruption. To the remaining members this recent development with Anderson was just another change; they would soldier on. Still, his voice and lyrics were so integral that both fans and the still-standing Yesmen had to wonder if this would be one lineup change too many.

Despite the latest twirl of Yes‘ ever-revolving door, the band sought to recall certain elements from their past. Eddie Offord, whose name last appeared on Relayer, almost six years before, was called in to produce the new record, Drama, and Roger Dean designed the cover, his first for YES since 1975’s Yesterdays compilation. And, possibly to assuage fans’ collective fears that The Buggles would steer YES toward shorter songs (although a Buggles-free YES would do just that a few years later). they led off Side One with “Machine Messiah,” which clocked in at 10 minutes, 27 seconds.

Eddie Offord, Roger Dean, long songs – all that was well and good. But how did the album sound? For the first minute-and-a-half, it’s a slightly heavier YES, as if they were taking the aggressive edge of Tormato‘s “Don’t Kill The Whale” one step further. OK, so Geoff Downes’ keyboards fit in. Then, at 1 minute, 37 seconds, comes the most crucial moment: the entrance of new frontman Trevor Horn. Wow, you can imagine fans thinking on or around August 18, 1980 (the album’s original release date), he does sound a bit like Jon. The vocals had a familiar ring, not only because of Horn’s similarity to Anderson but also because of Chris Squire and Steve Howe’s roles as backing singers, an infrequently cited component of “classic” YES.

While that problem might not have been apparent in the studio – as Drama has many great moments – when the band hit the road, it was clear that although they were good, they just weren’t YES. Not that the tour wasn’t successful: They sold out all of their U.S. dates, including a three-night stand at New York’s Madison Square Garden. But the homecoming shows didn’t go so well; the Brits weren’t as open-minded. After the tour Howe held a meeting at his house to determine the band’s future. By the end of the day YES had called it quits.

To this day, many fans consider Drama‘s closing track, “Tempus Fugit,” to be one of the group’s best moments. Sadly, it (and the entire record) is – perhaps unfairly ­- ignored, largely due to Anderson’s reluctance to perform Drama songs live. White and Squire would often throw in a bit of “Fugit” during their “Whitefish” dual solo performance, and the ecstatic crowd responses are revealing.

After the drama of (ahem) Drama, Trevor Horn and Geoff Downes released one more Buggles LP, Adventures In Modern Recording, which featured “I Am A Camera,” a stripped-down version of “Into The Lens.” But by then the duo was drifting apart; Downes appears on only three Adventure tracks. The Buggles were history by 1982. Horn went on to launch ZTT Records, releasing albums by such new wave hitmakers as Frankie Goes To Hollywood and The Art Of Noise. As a producer he worked with a number of acts, including Paul McCartney, Rod Stewart, ABC, Tina Turner – and even YES (but that’s a story for another day).

Meanwhile, Squire and White stuck it out. Indeed, they’ve played together pretty consistently since White first joined YES in 1972. After some aborted sessions with Led Zeppelin guitar god Jimmy Page, Chris and Alan recorded a single on their own, “Run With The Fox.” Eventually the duo would form the nucleus of what would be the YES reunion. And in a few years the flame would reignite, with more ups and downs and a consistently fluctuating lineup. Drama would prove not to be the end of the road for Yes – just one of their temporary stops.

– Brian Ives

Click on the song title to view the lyrics.

It’s no wonder that he names such people as Stanley Clarke and Jaco Pastorius as admired kindred spirits (although on cannot resist tagging on the comparison with other, non-funk, bassist like Miroslav Vitous, Eberhard Weber and Niels Pedersen). In the way he plays and the role he gives the instrument in his compositions, Chris is responsible more than anyone else for the emancipation of the rock bass. He rescued it from the shadows of “The Rhythm Section”, expanded its sound, broke the chains of the fretboard and brought the bass stage-front, to a point where it is now a major voice in the sound-mix, both live and in the studio.

You only have to listen to this rarified solo album, “Fish Out Of Water”, or such Yessworks as “Starship Trooper”, “The Fish” or “On The Silent Wings Of Freedom” (to mention a few that come easily to mind) to hear how he makes the bass sing, roar, fly and kick. He has given the bass a majestic and charmed voice.

And that’s what they, he and we mean by “Epic“.

His empathy and standing as a drummer’s drummer ade it patently clear he was the man for the job. Previous alliances with numerous super-names and not-so-super-names gave him an impeccable grounding in all manner of musical styles. He also brought with him an impressive set of muscles – courtesy of his beloved hobby of sailing. (A word of warning: he sometimes mentions that he’d like to take a year off and sail off into the sunset. Your petitions should be sent…)

In Alan you witness the perfect marriage of technique and emotion. Whether it’s on his unclassifiably diverse solo album, “Ramshackled”, or post-“Yessongs” YES albums, rock, jazz, funk, reggae, classical percussion and YES‘ fiersome rhythm are cooked up by the deft yet powerful hands of what might be be described as the World’s First Vertical Take-Off Drummer. And this year Alan adds another feather to his cap; you’ll be hearing him supply backing vocals to the songs from the new album, “Drama“.

He moved to London, pursuing his interest in the more complex aspects of music through session and production gigs, and it was during this time that he met Geoff Downes. Finding that their ideas coincided to an amazing degree, they went on to form the infamous Buggles, and found themselves with number one hits in Australasia and across Europe.

Then, as if to prove to themselves and others that their talents extended far beyond the Buggles, they wrote a song for one of their favourite bands – YES. They approached the band with a tape and were awestruck by the enthusiasm that met their material. And it didn’t stop there. Trevor’s vocal and lyric-writing abilities, both self-developed since the formation of the Buggles, gravitated naturally to the front-mike of the YES set.

After a 3-year stint at Leeds College of Music Geoff moved to London at the age of 20, playing with friends and various small bands. One such stint was in a dance band with journalist-drummer Chris Welch (ironically, a champion of YES music since the first album), who adds another riband to Downes’ collection when he says that they played dance and traditional jazz music in working-men’s clubs around the country.

In the late seventies, Geoff’s adept keyboards we much in demand for advertising music jingles. The next logical step was on to the studio producer’s seat, moulding raw young bands. The Buggles, of course, followed – and it was here that YES first noticed, admiringly, his eclectic keyboard style. He can stride like the most soulful jazzer, rock with flair and energy, and pick out the most intricate classical forms. As part of the Horn/Downes package deal, YES knew that Geoff would become a naturally indispensable part of their sound.

And while admitting a closeness to many rock guitar heavies, he feels a greater affinity with the likes of segova, John (Sky) Williams and Williams’ mento, Julian Bream. Considering how much space classic “hot” jazz consumes in his record collection, we can probably add the legendary Django Reinhardt to that list.

The most important point to Steve’s crossing of the no-man’s-land between these various styles becomes apparent on the first hearing of either his two solo albums or his work with YES. He never falls into that rock’n’rollers trap of lampooning other musics, or producing a poor man’s alternative to them. There sometimes is humour, but it is always tempered by his all-too-obvious respect for other musics and his relationship with them as a composer and musician.