Close to the Edge, Squire

Yes, it's the next entry in my series on the late Chris Squire and his remarkable run with the progressive rock band, Yes. And so far I've done posts on songs written or co-written by Squire that highlight his talent and innovation on the bass guitar, but now it's time for something a little different.

As I've previously mentioned, the group's three best albums all were produced in a relatively short period of time, between 1971 and 1972, with The Yes Album and Fragile both coming out in 1971, and Close to the Edge the next year.

Close to the Edge featured the same line-up as Fragile, Jon Anderson on vocals, Steve Howe on guitar, Bill Bruford on percussion, Rick Wakeman on keyboards, and Squire on bass, of course. What made the album remarkable was the fact that the title track, "Close to the Edge," took up an entire side of the album, clocking in at 18 minutes and 43 seconds on side 1. This was not unprecedented, certainly not for a live recording from a jam band like the Grateful Dead, but this was a studio recording. And of course The Beatles included a 16 minute medley on side 2 of Abbey Road, released in 1969, but that was clearly a medley of different songs. The Who's Tommy, also released in 1969, was a double album billed as a rock opera, and while the songs on the album all were more or less connected to the narrative, they were all separate songs, none of them all that long or complex. Of course another progressive rock group, Jethro Tull, released Thick as a Brick, also in 1972, with the entire album taken up by a single song, but it was a really a blending of a number of separate songs as well. There are other examples as well, but none of them can really be compare to what Yes accomplished on their 5th album.

 What made "Close to the Edge" special was the fact that it was an integral, well-orchestrated piece, one that demonstrated that progressive rock musicians could aspire to something more than making a bunch of pop songs or jamming away in the tradition of jazz, that they could aspire to something that approached, however distantly, the quality of classical music compositions. At a time when rock was still struggling for respectability, when the music that baby boomers embraced was denigrated by their parents, what Yes was doing was in effect saying roll over Beethoven in a whole new way.

Within the progressive rock movement, Yes was categorized as symphonic rock, in that they had experimented with including an orchestra on their second 2nd album, Time and a Word, and had utilized synthesizers such as the Moog to incorporate a symphonic sound on their 4th album, Fragile. With "Close to the Edge," Yes also incorporated symphonic elements, this time not just in the sound but also in the structure of the composition. This meant going beyond the surface and into the depth of symphonic sound.

The music of Yes was also labeled as classical rock, in that they drew on classical music. And while some others listed in this category were content to transform classical pieces into rock songs, with "Close to the Edge" Yes brought some of the structure of classical music into the rock idiom. This meant not just playing classical music in a rock context, but creating something akin to classical music.

The song, which is divided into 4 movements, is credited to Anderson and Howe, which means that Squire didn't write it. No doubt that's why the bass is never at the forefront of this song, although it drives the rhythm and progression of the music all the way through, with the exception of the spacey third movement. And it's hard to believe that Anderson and Howe actually wrote the bass line that Squire plays here, which is perhaps why on later albums, many of their more elaborate pieces are simply credited to Yes, meaning  all of the members of the band playing on that particular album.

Listening to "Close to the Edge" what stands out are Anderson's vocals and cryptic lyrics, Howe's lead guitar, which carries the main melodies through most of the movements, and Wakeman's keyboards, which open with the sounds of a natural soundscape, of birds and waters, proceed to give the song structure throughout, take the lead in the 3rd movement, are also featured in the 4th, and close with a return to the sounds of nature. That's what I remember best from all the times I've listened to it. 

But "Close to the Edge" also provides an opportunity to hear what Squire does with a song that is not his own. Listening to the bass guitar line, he certainly does more than keep the beat, and it actually gets increasingly more complex and creative as the song progresses from the 1st to the 2nd movement, and starts to take on an organic quality, one that strikes me as sounding like something alive, perhaps primordial, a voice from the depths. That sound returns in the 4th movement. 

Moreover, Squire is the primary backing vocalist behind Anderson throughout the song, and his singing takes the initial lead on the 3rd movement, and continues in counterpoint to Anderson afterwards.

So, enough chit chat, let's enjoy this classic Yessong, with the very cool video utilizing Roger Dean album cover art, once again produced by vzqk50HD Productions:








And now for those lyrics:

I. The Solid Time Of Change

A seasoned witch could call you from the depths of your disgrace
And rearrange your liver to the solid mental grace
And achieve it all with music that came quickly from afar
And taste the fruit of man recorded losing all against the hour
And assessing points to nowhere, leading every single one
A dewdrop can exalt us like the music of the sun
And take away the plain in which we move
And choose the course you're running

Down at the end, round by the corner
Not right away, not right away
Close to the edge, down by a river
Not right away, not right away

Crossed the line around the changes of the summer
Reaching out to call the color of the sky
Passed around a moment clothed in mornings faster than we see
Getting over all the time I had to worry
Leaving all the changes far from far behind
We relieve the tension only to find out the master's name

Down at the end, round by the corner
Close to the edge, just by a river
Seasons will pass you by
I get up, I get down
Now that it's all over and done
Now that you find, now that you're whole

II. Total Mass Retain

My eyes convinced, eclipsed with the younger moon attained with love
It changed as almost strained amidst clear manna from above
I crucified my hate and held the word within my hand
There's you, the time, the logic, or the reasons we don't understand

Sad courage claimed the victims standing still for all to see
As armoured movers took approached to overlook the sea
There since the cord, the license, or the reasons we understood will be

Down at the edge, close by a river
Close to the edge, round by the corner
Close to the end, down by the corner
Down at the edge, round by the river

Sudden cause shouldn't take away the startled memory
All in all, the journey takes you all the way
As apart from any reality that you've ever seen and known
Guessing problems only to deceive the mention
Passing paths that climb halfway into the void
As we cross from side to side, we hear the total mass retain

Down at the edge, round by the corner
Close to the end, down by a river
Seasons will pass you by
I get up, I get down

III. I Get Up, I Get Down

In her white lace, you could clearly see the lady sadly looking
Saying that she'd take the blame
For the crucifixion of her own domain

I get up, I get down
I get up, I get down

Two million people barely satisfy
Two hundred women watch one woman cry, too late
The eyes of honesty can achieve
(She would gladly say it amazement of her story)
How many millions do we deceive each day?
(Asking only interest could be layed upon the children of her domain)

I get up, I get down
I get up, I get down

In charge of who is there in charge of me
(She could clearly see the lady sadly looking)
Do I look on blindly and say I see the way?
(Saying that she'd take the blame
For the crucifixion of her own domain)
The truth is written all along the page
(She would gladly say it amazement of her story)
How old will I be before I come of age for you?
(Asking only interest could be layed upon the children of her domain)

I get up, I get down
I get up, I get down
I get up, I get down

I get up, I get down
I get up, I get down

IV. Seasons Of Man

The time between the notes relates the color to the scenes
A constant vogue of triumphs dislocate man, so it seems
And space between the focus shape ascend knowledge of love
As song and chance develop time, lost social temp'rance rules above
Ah, ah

Then according to the man who showed his outstretched arm to space
He turned around and pointed, revealing all the human race
I shook my head and smiled a whisper, knowing all about the place
On the hill we viewed the silence of the valley
Called to witness cycles only of the past
And we reach all this with movements in between the said remark

Close to the edge, down by the river
Down at the end, round by the corner
Seasons will pass you by
Now that it's all over and done
Called to the seed, right to the sun
Now that you find, now that you're whole
Seasons will pass you by

I get up, I get down
I get up, I get down
I get up, I get down

 

The lyrics are influenced by symbolist poetry, with a strong current of eastern mysticism running through them, and the sense of spirituality born out of the New Age movement is clearly present. There is an additional strong influence from Herman Hesse's Siddhartha narrative in the lyrics and music, the sound of the river especially.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But overall, it is the interplay of everything, lyrics and vocals and instrumental music of this quintet that make "Close to the Edge" one of the best songs ever written and recorded by Yes, truly an ecological and media ecological work in my view, and one of the most memorable performances by Chris Squire. 

Onward, Squire

The sort of music that Chris Squire and Yes are usually associated with is complex and often bombastic. Not hard rock, mind you, but as progressive rock, it's still rock, music with a lot of energy to it. But Yes has also produced some lovely soft pieces, soaring, celestial, and romantic.

My first post in this series, Yes, Squire, featured the song "Heart of the Sunrise" from their most celebrated album, Fragile, and that song incorporates both hard and soft parts. The other songs I've posted, "Starship Trooper" in Yes Again, Squire, "On the Silent Wings of Freedom" in Squire's (Not So) Silent Wings, and "Tempus Fugit" in Yes, Tempus Fugit, Squire (not the most creative titles for these posts, I know, sorry about that), have all been on the hard side. This time around will be different.

"Onward" appears on the same album as "On the Silent Wings of Freedom," Tormato, released in 1978, and it was written by Squire alone, rather than being the usual collaborative work that most Yes compositions are. It's a short piece, only a little over 4 minutes long. And Squire's bass playing is simple, restrained, a slow rising and falling, rather than the elaborate, loud and fast-moving lead of the other songs. According to the Wikipedia entry on the song, "Onward" is "a very direct love song from Chris Squire to his then wife, Nikki Squire." Squire also contributes backing vocals behind Jon Anderson's lead.

The video, Onward by Yes, is once again a product of vzqk50HD Productions, who are responsible for the choice of images that accompany the music.







And here are the lyrics:

Contained in everything I do
There's a love I feel for you
Proclaimed in everything I write
You're the light, burning brightly

Onward through the night
Onward through the night
Onward through the night of my life

Displayed in all the things I see
There's a love you show to me
Portrayed in all the things you say
You're the day leading the way

Onward through the night
Onward through the night
Onward through the night of my life

Onward through the night
Onward through the night
Onward through the night of my life

 
The Wikipedia entry also notes that the orchestral arrangement on this song was done by Andrew Pryce Jackman, who played keyboards in the band that Squire played in before he formed Yes, called The Syn. Jackman also did the orchestral arrangement on another song on Tormato, "Madrigal," and worked and performed on Squire's 1975 solo album, Fish Out of Water. This wasn't the first time Yes incorporated symphonic backing on their albums, as their second album, Time and a Word released in 1970, made use of a studio orchestra on every song. Nor would it be the last time, as an orchestra was also used in lieu of a keyboardist on their 19th album, Magnification, released in 2001.

But you can search through their entire discography, and you would be hard pressed to find a composition more beautiful than Chris Squire's "Onward" and, given his recent passing, I don't think you could find a better tribute to remember him by.

Yes, Tempus Fugit, Squire

So, it seems altogether appropriate to do a post on a song called "Tempus Fugit" here of Blog Time Passing. And while time does indeed fly, and it seems to do so whether we are in fact having fun or not, this song seems especially timely right now, as it is generally acknowledged as one of the many songs recorded by the progressive rock band Yes that best showcases the extraordinary bass guitar work of the late Chris Squire.

So let's get right to it, with the video portion again a product of vzqk50HD Productions:





And let's get those lyrics in here as well:

Born in the night
She would run like a leopard
That freaks at the sight
Of a mind close beside herself
And the nearer I came
How the country would change
She was using the landscape
To hide herself.

More in the mind
Than the body this feeling
A sense at the end
Of a circular line
That is drawn at an angle
I see when I'm with you
To navigate waters and finally answer to-yes.

If you were there you would want to be near me
Innocence, you could hold all the materials
And though nothing would really be living
It would shock Your fall into landing light
In the north sky time flies fast to the morning
The cold of the dawn it meant nothing to us
You were keeping your best situation
An answer to-yes

(Yes, Yes) And the moment I see you
(Yes, Yes) It's so good to be near you
(Yes, Yes) And the feeling you give me
(Yes, Yes) Makes me want to be with you
(Yes, Yes) From the moment you tell me—yes

If you could see all the roads I have travelled
Towards some unusable last equilibrium
Run like an athlete and die like a dead beaten speed-freak
An answer to all of your answers to-yes

In the north sky time flies faster than morning
The cold of the dawn it meant nothing to us
You were keeping your best situation
An answer to Yes

(Yes, Yes) And the moment I see you
(Yes, Yes) It's so good to be near you
(Yes, Yes) And the feeling you give me
(Yes, Yes) Makes me want to be with you
(Yes, Yes) If we wait for an answer
(Yes, Yes) Will the silence be broken
(Yes, Yes) Should we wait for an answer
(Yes, Yes) Do we leave it unspoken

(Yes Yes Yes Yes . . .)

Squire's bass in "Tempus Fugit" dominates most of the song. And while this is another example of his attempt to turn the bass into a lead instrument, there is no question that it is also the driving force behind the song's rhythm. The song appears on the group's 10th studio album, Drama, released in 1980.

Drama stands, in many ways, as an aberration in the band's history. Following the mixed reception that their previous album, Tormato, received in 1978, two fifths of the band left due to creative differences. The departure of keyboard player Rick Wakeman was seen as unfortunate, having been regarded as the best to have filled that role. But a Yes album without Wakeman was entirely conceivable, and the record made prior to his joining the band, none other than The Yes Album, is generally considered one of their 3 best. After all, Wakeman didn't join the group until their 4th album, Fragile, played on the next two, left the group and was replaced on their 7th album, Relayer, and returned to the group for the next two.  

But singer Jon Anderson had also left the group, and Anderson was a founding member of Yes, and the lead vocalist on all of their previous albums. As the voice of the band, he more than anyone else represented the band's identity, and fans had a great deal of difficulty accepting his absence. 

Perhaps an analogy can be made between a band's lead singer and the sound of our own voices. For individuals, losing their voice temporarily can be highly frustrating, and losing it permanently can be traumatic. Truly so, I mean this without hyperbole or exaggeration. We take the sound of our own voices for granted, but they are much more a part of our identity than the way we look. We may look in the mirror a couple of times each day, maybe less, maybe a bit more depending on how much your looks matter in your profession, or to you personally. But our looks are not with us to the same degree as the sound of our own voices can be. Even when we're not talking, we can still hear our voices as we think, and what is thinking but talking to ourselves silently? If it's too noisy, we say, I can't hear myself think. We never refer to being unable to see ourselves think, and we don't imagine our faces, or bodies, when we're caught up in the act of thinking.

So there is a severe psychological trauma that individuals experience if they lose their ability to speak forever, say due to a laryngectomy (surgical removal of the larynx), often necessitated by cancer of the larynx brought on by smoking or drinking. It may follow, then, in a more modest way, for a band like Yes who had recorded and performed for many years with only one singer taking the lead, that that singer became intrinsic to the group's identity, and his loss difficult to accept, at least for the fans, because fans in some way derive their identity from the object of their enthusiasm.

Another problem was that the replacement of two key members took many fans by surprise, either when they purchased their copy of Drama, or when they saw the group in concert. Nowadays, such changes in personnel would be amply broadcast via the internet and social media, which would have provided the opportunity for feedforward, and perhaps a change in plans. At the very least, there would have been more of a chance to break the news gradually, rather than having the experience that many fans had of going to see Yes in concert, expecting to hear Anderson's voice, and getting someone else instead, along with a substitute on the keyboards.

So who replaced Wakeman and Anderson? It was Geoff Downes on keyboards, and Trevor Horn on lead vocals. Both had previously been members of a new wave band called The Buggles. It was considered at odd combination, insofar as new wave, as a more mainstream evolution of punk rock, was seen as a reaction against the excesses of progressive rock, and therefore almost almost diametrically opposed to all that progressive rock was about. Punk and new wave emphasized shorter songs, getting back to the older idea of the 3-4 minute single that fit into the 45 rpm format and was aimed at the Top 40 charts, and relied on more down to earth, often prosaic, sometimes ironic lyrics, less cosmic and preachy, more angry and rebellious, etc. But I hasten to add that at least some of new wave was similar to progressive in being alternative and experimental, intellectual, and reflecting an interest in technology, science, and science fiction. 

So the arrival of Downes and Horn was not at all absurd, and it certainly was not forced on their part, or on the part of remaining Yes members Squire, guitarist Steve Howe, and drummer Alan White. And just in case you're asking, who in the world are or were The Buggles, well, here's their best known song:





Some video, huh? A real tribute to mid-20th century media transitions. And as you may well know, when the cable channel MTV was launched in 1981, this was the first music video that they played (and for those who don't know, MTV originally was devoted almost entirely to playing music videos). The song itself had been included on the first album by The Buggles, The Age of Plastic, released in 1979. If you're not familiar with it, I'd recommend it, and here it is, as a matter of fact:






This video includes 3 bonus tracks not on the original album, which consisted of 8 songs divided evenly on the 2 sides of the record, "Living in the Plastic Age," Video Killed the Radio Star," "Kid Dynamo," and "I Love You (Miss Robot)" on side 1, and "Clean, Clean," "Elstree," "Astroboy (And the Proles on Parade)," and "Johnny on the Monorail" on side 2.

So, anyway, as you might imagine, I like what The Buggles did here especially for their use of media ecological and science fiction themes. I find the music enjoyable, and not entirely inconsistent with the progressive rock approach of Yes. But when it comes to singing, Horn's voice is significantly lower than Anderson's, and while he tried to raise it up higher when he joined Yes, he just wasn't able, and it no doubt caused quite a bit of strain on his vocal cords. Perhaps that had something to do with Horn switching roles from performer or producer, a career change that resulted in quite a bit of success, not the least working with the next version of Yes.



The point being that Drama was an aberration because the band broke up in 1981, so there were no subsequent Yes-Buggle albums made. At least not until 30 years later, in 2011, when Yes released another album without Jon Anderson, who was replaced by Benoît David, while Geoff Downes returned to play keyboards. This time, Anderson's absence was not by his own choice, but due to illness. And once again it was controversial, among the fans, as it was three decades before, but this time also because Anderson argued that he had recovered sufficiently. Downes has remained with Yes as they released their last album with Squire, appropriately titled Heaven and Earth, in 2014, with Jon Davidson as lead singer.

So, more than a little actual drama associated with the release of Drama. And returning to "Tempus Fugit" I'd say that it was not only Anderson's voice that was missed, but also his lyrics. Anderson had a certain way with lyrics that made them cryptic, a cool medium in the tradition of Symbolist poetry (as Marshall McLuhan would say), modernist in that sense as opposed to the postmodernist sensibility of The Age of Plastic. Postmodern self-reference and self-reflexivity can be seen in the repetition of yes and yes, yes in the lyrics of "Tempus Fugit," something Anderson would never do. And while that sort of thing became commonplace in rap and hip hop, it went against the loftier sentiments associated with progressive rock.

Simply put, "Tempus Fugit" is not one of my favorites, and in my view, not one of the best songs Yes recorded, which is to say that it is a good song, just not outstanding. It is certainly an interesting piece, a product of an interesting period in their history. And without a doubt, it is very good instrumentally, and on the power of the bass line alone, a memorable composition, one of the best examples of why Squire was in a league of his own as a bass guitarist. Oh, and by the way, the previous posts in this series are Yes, Squire, Yes Again, Squire, and Squire's (Not So) Silent Wings, in case you missed any of them and want to catch up. 

Squire's (Not So) Silent Wings

In two of my previous posts, Yes, Squire and Yes Again, Squire, I wrote about the recent passing of bass guitarist Chris Squire and about the group he co-founded and played with for almost half a century, Yes. And I included two of their songs that especially showcased Squire's unique approach to turning the bass into a lead instrument, "Heart of the Sunrise" and "Starship Trooper," both of which are among their better known songs, from two of their most popular albums, Fragile and The Yes Album, respectively.


This time around, I want to share a lesser known song recorded several years after those two, and included on their 1978 album, Tormato. As the album cover makes clear, tormato is a variation on tomato, presumably as rendered through a British dialect. And while it suggests a bit of self-deprecating humor, it also reflects the fact that the band was less than satisfied with the album. And while it may not have been completely panned when it was released, Tormato did meet with a mixed reception. Simply put, it was not as good as their earlier stuff that you could listen to on The Yes Album (1971), Fragile (1971), and Close to the Edge (1972).

The band's line-up on Tormato was almost the same as on Fragile and Close to the Edge, with Squire, guitarist Steve Howe, Jon Anderson on vocals, and Rick Wakeman on keyboards. The only difference was the drummer, Alan White taking the place of Bill Bruford, Bruford having left the group after the release of Close to the Edge. White remained with the group ever since, substituting a solid rock beat in place of Bruford's more jazz-influenced drumming. For the most part, it was a difference that made significantly less of a difference for fans than the times when other musicians took the place of Anderson, Howe, or Wakeman. Bruford only returned briefly to play Yes music with the breakaway group, Anderson Bruford Wakeman Howe circa 1988-1990, and together with White for the Union album and tour, circa 1991-1992.

I can only imagine that it must be strange for White to be the longtime drummer for Yes, for approximately 45 years, and yet to somehow always be in the shadow of Bruford, who played with the group for only a few years, but appears on their best known and most popular albums.

But I digress.  The end of the 70s was the time when punk rock had hit the peak of its popularity, and the related genre of new wave was coming into its own, and they represented an approach to rock music that was almost diametrically opposed to that of progressive rock. Interest in concept albums, complex compositions, and fusions of classical, jazz, and rock was at an all time low, which was bad news for Yes. Progressive rock still had its enthusiasts, and Yes their die-hard fans, but Tormato was, in its time, a disappointing album, and stands as the end of the group's classic era, as Anderson and Wakeman left the band a year after the album's release. It was the end of an era. 

Only in retrospect could the album be said to be, not one of their best, but a respectable contribution to their discography. Or at least, I'll say it. Others may disagree. But I think most would agree that the album has at least one or two cuts worthy of note. Which brings me back to the point of all this, the lesser known song (as compared to "Heart of the Sunrise" and "Starship Trooper") that features Chris Squire's bass, and I should add that Squire also played an important role in providing backing vocals to Jon Anderson. The song I am referring to is "On the Silent Wings of Freedom," and it is credited to Jon Anderson (for the lyrics) and Chris Squire. Here's a quote about the song from its Wikipedia entry:

The song is the final and longest song on the album. On this particular track, as with most of the album, Squire sends his bass through his foot pedal controls to give it a more harmonized sound. Thus, the bassline had a different tonality to it from previous albums, yet was still able to retain his signature "growl". Most Yes fans favour this one song, as it is the closest track to other fan favourites like "Close to the Edge", "Heart of the Sunrise" and "Awaken". It also foreshadows the harder rock sound the band would move to on Drama.

Drama is the album the group released after Tormato, minus Anderson and Wakeman, and I'll leave that off for another day. I will reinforce the entry's point, that this song has the same sort of quality we find on their big three albums, The Yes Album, Fragile, and Close to the Edge, while it also incorporates more of a hard rock sensibility than their earlier work. The track also highlights Alan White's powerful drum playing, and there is some very nice interplay between Squire and White here, and also between Squire and Wakeman. Only Steve Howe's guitar playing moves a little bit into the background here, as compared to much of their other material, which opens up more room for Squire to shine.








As was the case in the previous two posts, this YouTube video, featuring the album cover art of Roger Dean, comes courtesy of vzqk50HD Productions. And here are Anderson's lyrics:

On the silent wings of freedom
Where I offer myself midst the balancing of the sun
On the winds of celestial seasons
That would carry me on, midst the balance of being one
On the dream of our love eternal
That will eventually bring our living once more with you

Where we are coming from
Or where we go
We only know we come with sound

Where we are coming from
Or where we go
We only know we go around and around

On the back of your forty-second screamdown
Do you choose to be lost midst the challenge of being one
On the flight of regardless feelings
As you hurtle to fear midst the challenge of everyone

On the darkest night so painful
Do you hunger for love midst the torture of being one
On the passing light of easing
Have you seen you inside midst the being of everyone
To the common goal of freedom
Where we offer ourselves midst the balancing of the sun

Where we are coming from
Or where we go
We only know we come with sound

Where we are coming from
Or where we go
We only know we go around and around

I very much like the line, "we only know we come with sound," which strikes me as quite media ecological in its insight.

And the song also strikes me as a fitting memorial, the silent wings of freedom as a metaphor for release from pain and sickness, and for passing on from this earthly plane.

Yes Again, Squire

So this is a follow-up to my previous post, Yes, Squire, where I related my longstanding affection for the music of the progressive rock band Yes, on the occasion of the recent passing of their bass player Chris Squire. That post included one of the band's songs that highlight Squire's unique ability to turn the bass into a lead instrument, "Heart of the Sunrise," which appeared on their fourth album, Fragile, released in 1971.

Fragile came out in November of 1971, while earlier that year, in February, Yes released their third album, The Yes Album. Their first two albums were interesting, but this third was the breakthrough that defined the group as a progressive rock band. The album featured 3 songs that were approximately 9 minutes long, and a fourth that was almost 7 minutes, all of them exhibiting the kind of complexity that served to define the progressive genre.

The Yes Album was the first to feature guitarist Steve Howe, who had replaced original member Peter Banks. And it was the last, at least for many years to feature keyboard player Tony Kaye, who was replaced by Rick Wakeman on Fragile. Consequently, the keyboards are less prominent on The Yes Album than on Fragile, allowing for more emphasis on the interplay between guitar and bass. Along with Squire, Howe, and Kaye, the album featured Jon Anderson as the lead singer, and Bill Bruford doing percussion.

One of those 9-minute songs is called "Starship Trooper," a name taken from the Robert Heinlein novel, Starship Troopers, published in 1959. Heinlein, a science fiction writer heavily influenced by general semantics, used the novel to express his own views concerning military service, meritocracy, and individualism, conservative views that have been subject to some criticism. The novel served as the basis for the somewhat satirical, postmodern science fiction film directed by Paul Verhoeven and released in 1997, also called Starship Troopers. It's a very interesting film, and successful enough to have spawned a couple of not so interesting sequels. 


.........................................



But that's really besides the point, as the song bears no relation to Heinlein's narrative, aside from the title. And while the title suggests a science fiction theme, and the song has often been thought of in that regard, the lyrics actually have very little to do with that genre, and are more spiritual in nature. But the music does lend itself to a sense of flight and space travel, especially due to Squire's booming bass.

The song is credited to Jon Anderson, Steve Howe, and Chris Squire, listed in alphabetical order. And it's listed on the album as divided into 3 parts:

a. Life Seeker

b. Disillusion

c. Würm

The parts are not credited, although some sources say that "Life Seeker" is primarily by Anderson, "Disillusion" by Squire, and "Würm" by Howe. Some may find this manner of listing the song as pretentious, but it does speak to the complexity of the music, the interweaving of different themes and types of music into a seamless whole. I supposed you could consider side 2 of the 1969 Beatles album, Abbey Road, as a precedent for that sort of thing, as Yes did take pieces that previously were separate and mix them together to create "Starship Trooper." but on Abbey Road the different songs are very distinct, more of a medley than a merging, whereas the transitions that Yes work out are not so much jump cuts as they are a unified montage.

Anyway, this song does not single out Squire's bass as much as "Heart of the Sunrise," but I think you can see how powerful it can be working together in the ensemble. As in the last post, credit goes again to vzqk50HD Productions for the video's visuals:






And here are the lyrics:

Sister bluebird flying high above
Shine your wings forward to the sun
Hide the myst'ries of life on your way
Though you've seen them, please don't say a word
What you don't know, I have never heard

Starship trooper, go sailing on by
Catch my soul, catch the very light
Hide the moment from my eager eye
Though you've seen them, please don't tell a soul
What you can't see, can't be very whole

Speak to me of summer
Long winters longer than time can remember
The setting up of other roads
To travel on in old accustomed ways
I still remember the talks by the water
The proud sons and daughter
That knew the knowledge of the land
Spoke to me in sweet accustomed ways

Mother life, hold firmly on to me
Catch my knowledge higher than the day
Lose as much as only you can show
Though you've seen me, please don't say a word
What I don't know, I have never shared

Loneliness is a power that we possess to give or take away forever
All I know can be shown by your acceptance of the facts there shown before you
Take what I say in a different way and it's easy to say that this is all confusion
As I see a new day in me, I can also show it you and you may follow

Speak to me of summer
Long winters longer than time can remember
The setting up of other roads
To travel on in old accustomed ways
I still remember the talks by the water
The proud sons and daughter
That knew the knowledge of the land
Spoke to me in sweet accustomed ways

Clearly, this is not really a science fiction song, but it does convey a sense of the celestial, and that is very much what Yes is all about it, at least when they are at their best.

Yes, Squire

So it goes, as Kurt Vonnegut would say. I know the title of this post sounds like a line from Monty Python, but it concerns another group of talented Brits, the progressive rock group Yes, and in particular their founder and perennial anchor, Chris Squire, who passed away this past Saturday, June 27th, at 67 years of age. I bring this up because Yes is one of my favorite bands of all time, and Squire was the only member of the band to appear in all its incarnations, from its founding in 1968.

And I know that the music of Yes is not to everybody's taste, and I'm not trying to push it onto anyone who doesn't care for it, but as a late baby boomer, witnessing the passing of members of the early baby boomer generation that had an influence on me during my formative teens is more than a little significant. And of course, we've lost quite a few along the way, and will lost many more to come.

But Yes was my favorite when I was in high school and college, and remained one of my favorites ever since. And the one constant in every incarnation of the band was Chris Squire. More than anyone else, it was his band. And that's not to say that they simply cannot go on without him. But it does mean that they will never be able to go back to any of their early, classic line ups ever again. And it does mark the end of an era.

As mentioned, Yes is a progressive rock group, really one of the bands that helped to define that genre of popular music. Within progressive rock, their music was sometimes labeled as classical rock, not to be confused with the much broader category of classic rock. Classical rock represented a reversal from the earlier roll over Beethoven aesthetic, incorporating aspects of symphonic and other types of classical music into rock formats. Yes sometimes did this directly, while also drawing on jazz, rhythm and blues, and acid rock and psychedelia, and of course the music of the earlier British invasion bands, the Beatles having been a major influence on them. 

But what stands out most about the British group is the complexity of their music, and the virtuosity of their members. They were interested in doing something far greater than appropriating bits and pieces of classical music. They aspired to create songs that were on a par with classical music.

And maybe you find them to be over the top. That's not uncommon. For myself, I have found their music to be intellectually engaging, as well as emotionally and spiritually moving, and that is why I have been listening to them for four decades.

And what distinguishes Chris Squire was his ambition to transform his instrument, the bass guitar, from a bottom dweller than simply kept the beat into a lead instrument. And he succeeded. He was an innovator, as well as a major influence on many other bass players. Much has been made of the fact that the bass player of The Who, John Entwistle, died on the same day, June 27th, over a decade ago, in 2002. Some are now saying that Squire and Entwistle were the two greatest bass players in rock history. And maybe that's true, although I think Phil Lesh of the Grateful Dead would also belong in that number.

But by way of a tribute, let me include a high quality recording of their studio track "Heart of the Sunrise" for their

1971 album, Fragile. This is one of many songs that displays Squire's unique abilities, and the potential he introduced of how the bass guitar could perform as a lead instrument. 

Arguably, "Heart of the Sunrise" is one of the best examples of what progressive rock is all about, with Squire's bass complemented by the ethereal singing and lyrics of Jon Anderson, balanced by the amazing drum work of Bill Bruford (the song is credited to Anderson, Bruford, and Squire), and also the keyboard wizardry of Rick Wakeman, and the brilliant lead guitar of Steve Howe. The video itself is very nicely done, all credit to vzqk50HD Productions. 

And here are the wonderfully poetic lyrics:

Love comes to you and you follow
Lose one on to the Heart of the Sunrise
SHARP-DISTANCE
How can the wind with its arms all around me

Lost on a wave and then after
Dream on on to the Heart of the Sunrise
SHARP-DISANCE
How can the wind with so many around me
Lost in the city

Lost in their eyes as you hurry by
Counting the broken ties they decide
Love comes to you and then after
Dream on on to the Heart of the Sunrise
Lost on a wave that you're dreaming
Dream on on to the Heart of the Sunrise
SHARP-DISTANCE
How can the wind with its arms all around me
SHARP-DISTANCE
How can the wind with so many around me
I feel lost in the city

Lost in their eyes as you hurry by
Counting the broken ties they decided

Straight light moving and removing
SHARPNESS of the colour sun shine
Straight light searching all the meanings of the song
Long last treatment of the telling that
Relates to all the words sung
Dreamer easy in the chair that really fits you

Love comes to you and then after
Dream on on to the Heart of the Sunrise
SHARP-DISTANCE
How can the sun with its arms all around me
SHARP-DISTANCE
How can the wind with so many around me
I feel lost in the city

Immediately following the conclusion of "Heart of the Sunrise" this particular video includes the brief reprise of Jon Anderson's "We Have Heaven" that comes at the very end of Fragile, which is altogether fitting in the context of a tribute to the memory of Chris Squire.



Again, I recognize that we all have different tastes in music, and all I want to say is that this music meant, and means something to me, which is why it deserves a place here on Blog Time Passing. And this is a topic I'll come back to in future posts.