Published on Sep 25, 2002
To many people, Rick Wakeman’s time in Yes was
the definitive period for the band in terms of popularity.
Replacing Tony Kaye in 1971, Wakeman added a classical touch to his
playing, as well as the occasional bit of jazz flair. Some have
even suggested that Wakeman
was Yes at this juncture in their career – casually
forgetting the influences of Steve Howe, Chris Squire and Jon
Anderson.
But there is no denying that Wakeman’s keyboard work shaped
Yes’s sound – and, in fact, might have held back Wakeman’s ability
to branch out. His 1973 epic
The Six Wives Of Henry VIII is ample proof of this. A
mixture of all sorts of influences and styles, this disc, with rare
exception, demonstrates how good progressive rock could be without
falling into any of its inherent traps.
Wakeman challenges the listener throughout the 36 minutes of
this disc – most notably in keeping the melodies he structured for
each wife in historical context. More than a brief knowledge of
history is really needed to capture this essence, though even a
neophyte like myself, with the liner notes sitting in front of me,
can occasionally put one and one together to see where Wakeman was
going with some of these pieces.
The listener is also challenged by Wakeman’s refusal to be bound
by any strict categorization. One moment, he’s performing a
souped-up prog lick from a keyboard; the next moment he’s on an
acoustic piano pulling out some incredibly haungint melodies. These
two examples occur in the opening track, “Catherine Of Aragon,”
showing that the listener needs to not only be patient with this
disc, but also paying attention.
What keeps
The Six Wives Of Henry VIII going successfully is partially
because of Wakeman’s tight songwriting – but also because of the
intense energy one feels in the performance of these six songs.
“Catherine Parr” – one which I became familiar with again thanks to
watching the DVD of
Journey To The Centre Of The Earth (more on that soon) –
feels like it’s switching genres every 30 seconds or so, but it all
seems to be a natural progression. Only a skilled tunesmith can
accomplish this feat.
From reviews I read at the “Rick Wakeman Communications Centre,”
there is some debate over the track “Anne Of Cleaves,” with many
people claiming this one doesn’t fit the mood of the album, or that
it is the weak link. I disagree – in fact, it is the outward
jazziness of this track that sucks me in each time I listen to it.
Wakeman’s willingness to just let the music take him wherever it
wants to go is infectious, and you can’t help but smile and tap
your foot to this one.
Weaknesses? They’re all pretty much subjective. “Catherine
Howard” occasionally suffers from an unbalanced mix, leaving
guitars buried in the mix. (Anyone else catch the partial “Morning
Has Broken” riff in this one?) Likewise, “Jane Seymour” sometimes
has the feeling that we’re missing much more than we’re physically
hearing – and that ends up hurting the overall track. Still, these
are minor points.
It had been many years since I dug this one out of the Pierce
Memorial Archives, and it will probably be some time before it goes
back (though I’ve given this one about five spins just prior to
writing this – and I
still don’t feel I’ve captured all the nuances). Where Yes
was a strictly prog-rock outfit following the musical visions of
Squire and the lyrical inspiration of Anderson,
The Six Wives Of Henry VIII shows without a doubt that
Wakeman was a force to be reckoned with.