Published on Jan 22, 2004
If progressive rock — that unapologetically pompous subgenre of
rock which worships innovation over form and indulgence over
concision — is, as a genre, a dinosaur, then the venerable wizards
of Yes are surely its T-Rex. No progressive band — not the
eccentric King Crimson, nor the bombastic Emerson, Lake and Palmer,
nor the (toward the end) nearly pathetic Genesis — can match the
Yes-men’s 35-year saga for either its high points or its low
ones.
Through three and a half decades of ever-changing lineups,
producers, styles and levels of quality, the only constant in Yes
(other than bass player/harmony vocalist/co-founder Chris Squire)
has been the persistence of extremes. 1972’s blistering triple-live
set
Yessongs — featuring what still stand as some of the most
remarkable live performances of the era — was followed by the
bloated
Tales From the Topographic Oceans. Four years later, the
return-to-form
Going For the One was followed by its own dark half, the
nearly wretched
Tormato. In the early ’80s, the expired-then-reincarnated
band’s energetic, if overly slick,
90125 was followed by 12 years of band-member infighting and
musical mediocrity.
In 1996, though, something uniquely (and typically) Yes
happened. After the more commerically oriented ’80s group finally
imploded under the weight of long-simmering tensions between
arena-rock guitarist/maestro Trevor Rabin and the more
traditionalist elements remaining in the band, a Yes lineup not
featured since the band’s 1978-79 world tour reunited to play a
series of sold-out concerts in San Luis Obispo. And, defying the
odds for this sort of
“let’s-get-the-old-gang-together-for-one-more-stab-at-glory-before-we-all-retire”
gig, the guys — Squire, Jon Anderson, Steve Howe, Rick Wakeman and
Alan White — have done well by their legacy.
Certainly, on this two-disc set you’ll find the obligatory FM
radio staple “Roundabout” and fan favorite “Starship Trooper,” both
the subject of multiple live recordings already. But both receive
loving and dynamic treatments here from the old masters, and they
are supplemented by some unexpected treats, including a rousing
“Siberian Khatru” (from the landmark
Close to the Edge album), the first-ever live recording of
Tales‘ “The Revealing Science of God,” a strong version of
Paul Simon’s “America” (an early Yes single), and an unexpectedly
pretty re-working of “Onward,” a nearly forgotten footnote from
Tormato.
As an added bonus,
Keys features two new songs from the studio — one (“That,
That Is”) of epic 19-minute girth, the other (“Be The One”) a
tighter 10 minutes. Neither is quite up to the old Yes standards,
feeling somewhat pieced-together rather than flowing, but both
still stand head and shoulders above the majority of the band’s
output over the prior decade.
While falling short of old glories,
Keys to Ascension was the first spark in the
end-of-the-century rekindling of a band that’s been counted out
time and time again, and defied those expectations every time.