Published on Jan 12, 2004
You can take any Yes album from 1969 to 2000 and listen to it
without requiring a contextual structure within which to place it;
except this one. You cannot listen to
Tales (no one calls it
Tales From Topographic Oceans) without first listening to
Close To The Edge twice at the very least, and
Fragile also, if you have the time. If you don’t have the
time for that, then you don’t have the time to learn to appreciate
Tales. Go ahead; I will wait for you…
You’re back? Good, then we may begin.
You need not be a musical genius to appreciate
Tales. Every level of human endeavour is represented in the
Yes fan base. From truck driver to politician (politicians being at
the bottom of the strata of course). All you need is time and a
spirit that has not been hardened against the possibility that
music is not just about watching Britney’s tits bounce. You need
only be open to the possibility that music is an expression of
creativity that encompasses more that what MTV can show you on your
new plasma screen. Really! There is more inside your head than
there is on that screen and
Tales was designed to turn on that light between your ears.
The “topographic ocean” is your own imagination.
No album divides like
Tales. Reviews of this album typically start with, “You
either love it or you hate it.” Bullcrap! You may love parts of it,
you may hate parts of it, but I have yet to meet the human who can
honestly state that they love or hate all of it. But not everyone
has the time for this kind of effort, and if this is true for you
and you hate it all because you have not the time to discover
Tales then go away now. Minor prog albums such as Alan
Parsons’
Tales of Mystery and Imagination await you. On the other
hand, if you love the whole album then you would probably buy
copies of Jon Anderson farting fairy dust and call it art also. You
are a true Yes Fanatic and you have no need to read this review. Be
gone! THE POWER OF COMMON SENSE COMPELS YOU!!!
A work such as
Tales is too large and too all encompassing to fall under
such an umbrella as “love it or hate it”. Eighty minutes of
Herculean effort from the most talented group of musicians ever to
carry a tune await you. Appreciation requires time. Some of it will
pound your impoverished soul with a hammer of emotion that will
leave you breathless.. and yes, some of it sucks.
Four tracks on one double album:
“The Revealing Science Of God (Dance Of The Dawn)” “The
Remembering (High The Memory)” “The Ancient” (Giants Under The
Sun)” “Ritual (Nous Sommes Du Soleil)”
Each track approximately twenty minutes long and each with its
own alternate title. How mysterious… Striking Roger Dean artwork
graces the cover. Designed with some collaboration from the group
and meant to display various ‘mystical’ locations and land marks
from across the globe. Consistently ranked at or near the top of
the most memorable album covers of all time the cover alone has
been known to command considerable respect among the ‘artsy’
crowd.
When creating
Tales lead singer Jon Anderson used the four part Hindu
Shastric scriptures as inspiration. The lyrics are, on the surface,
as enigmatic as most Yes lyrics. However, if you take the time to
listen, what Anderson was thinking will come through; there are
layers to Tales that may take some effort to reveal. If you have
the time to actually listen to the lyrics sung over the gracefully
executed complexities of Steve Howe’s lead guitar then parts of
this album will send you reeling. Particularly enjoyable are the
opening piece “The Revealing Science of God” and the closing piece
“Ritual.”
The chant at the beginning of “The Revealing Science of God” is
all Anderson sound painting, evenly balanced over an increasing
crescendo of power; and, at first glance sound-scape is all that
is. But if you listen closely it is (imho) a description of a four
part awakening of the human spirit. The “dawn” of light, thought,
power and love. Anderson lyrics can be vague. But if you want to
work at it there is often grace and humour in the even smallest
part. For example, a small portion of lyric from this song is:
“We must have waited all our lives for this Moment moment”
We wait all of our lives for every moment that we live.. don’t
we? You wait all of your life for every moment that you live, so
use every moment well. That’s the simplicity and power of Anderson
at his best.
Musically, it is a powerful piece utilizing the virtuoso talents
of the whole band. Squire thunders along gleefully with White. Howe
peels back layer’s of feeling, alternately ripping or cajoling
emotion from the strings of his various instruments. And Wakeman,
on record as a Tales detractor, manages to push his keys with a
mighty good impression of someone who still gives a shit. A tour de
force if ever there was one.
“Ritual” is the best closer ever to grace a Yes album. A perfect
blend of Squire bass and White percussion, backed by towering
Anderson vocals and intriguing Howe string inlay (including a quick
reprise of the theme from Close to the Edge). In true Yes fashion a
pure percussion piece (to call it a drum solo would be like calling
the northern lights just another static charge) breaks out in the
middle of this song and then segues into one of the most haunting
and melodic pieces of Yes music ever recorded; “Nous Sommes du
Soliel.” We are of the sun. As Anderson skips like a pebble on
water over a blend of Howe acoustic and Wakeman piano brilliance,
the song winds down slowly to an end. It speaks volumes that Yes
can do this whole piece in one shot live in concert to this day. It
speaks tomes that I have personally seen grown men of the truck
drivin’ variety weep when they do so.
These two pieces alone could comprise a complete album. But the
need to complete the musical thought is paramount to the Yes
paradigm and sales were never a great concern to Anderson and co.
And so we have the other two pieces of music on this monster of a
concept album. Beware Yes Fanatics, accusations of suckage
ensue…
“The Remembering” has hints of good things in it. Like a fruit
cake that looks good but is just too, too much to actually get
down. Dry and flat; on and on and on it goes. Stop plotting my
demise please. I am not saying that “The Remembering” is not worth
the effort IF you are interested in getting to know Yes in detail.
But the average listener, even the average Yes fan IMHO, will find
that the rumours of padding on this album are not without some
small merit. From close to the edge we’ve gone way over the edge;
here there be monsters.
“The Ancient”: The percussive expression that starts this track
flows throughout most of the song using discordant “punches” which
are echoed later in the final track. A bit padded perhaps but not
much, and “The Ancient” includes the extraordinary sub-song “Leaves
of Green.” But “Leaves of Green” does not fit in here at all. It’s
a great song, there is no doubt, but it does not belong here.
Having said that, I am glad that it made it on any album at all,
for “Leaves of Green” is a text book example of Howe’s outstanding
command of the acoustic guitar and Anderson’s innate ability to
enhance a melody with his angelic counter tenor. Wow.
What Yes were attempting with
Tales was another break out of the box. Limits mean nothing
to Yes and it is well for all of us that this is so. We need
musical explorers to break us out of our cultural tendency to stick
in a musical rut. We sure could use one right now ’cause if I have
to listen to another pop diva stretch a simple two syllable word
into a freakin’ four-octave aria I will start looking for the
bullets. But I digress…
As a whole
Tales expresses what has lately been completely missing from
the crap fed to the dull eyed masses by the marketers of MTV’s
musical sludge; and that missing element is creativity. Most of
Tales is an expression of pure creative talent and taken in
context it becomes an even greater feat. Look at what Yes created
in four years:
The Yes Album 1971
Fragile 1972
Close To The Edge 1972
Yessongs 1973
Tales From Topographic Oceans 1974
This was a creative growth spurt of colossal proportions.
Whether you feel that
Tales is the orgasmic climax after four years of foreplay or
the wet spot on the sheet after
Close to the Edge, Yes should be applauded for trying, and
in most cases succeeding, in pushing beyond boundaries that most
musicians can’t even approach. Tales shattered musical boundaries
completely, leaving the traumatized pundits of musical conservatism
lying in a pretentious heap. “You can’t do that!”, screamed the
critics. “We just did,” answered Yes. It is not in the corporate
music mongers best interest to have you appreciate
Tales. They want you in the box.
It would have been in Yes’ commercial interest to produce an
endless stream of “Roundabout” clones, but that’s not what
‘progressing’ is all about. And while it is true that keyboardist
Rick Wakeman left Yes shortly after
Tales, it is also true that he keeps coming back and plays
tracks from
Tales. Apparently it isn’t bad enough to keep him off the
stage.
In 50 years no one will know who the prefab singing strippers of
the MTV generation were because they are designed by the star maker
machinery to be replaceable.
Tales is quite irreplaceable and that makes this an A
album.