Yes: The Quest (2021)

 Yes had intended to quickly follow up 2014’s Heaven & Earth but were sidelined by the 2015 death of Chris Squire, and an extended regrouping period (which saw several impressive concept tours), and then the covid lockdowns. Finally, in 2021, a new Yes album emerged. It was the first to feature Billy Sherwood on bass, assuming the role that Chris Squire had held down since the day he founded the band. It was also the first album to feature current Yes drummer Jay Schellen, here in a limited percussion role, alongside the late Alan White (who makes his final appearance on this album). This as also the first Yes album to be produced by Steve Howe, as he now is the captain of the ship. 

The result is a fantastic album, every bit as majestic as the Roger Dean painting on the cover. This is a different Yes, but it is still Yes. There is a lot of prog on this album, especially on side one, with “The Ice Bridge”, as well as the soaring “Dare To Know”, which Howe sings in tandem with Davison, and is accented by an orchestra (recalling Magnification, somewhat). 

Written by Davison & Sherwood, the magnificent “Minus The Man” is a benchmark for the new era of Yes. It takes a few passes before it sticks. Once it sinks in, it really sticks. This is augmented by an orchestra as well as the following, three-part “Leave Well Alone”, written by Howe and sung in unison between he and Davison. This has a feel more in line with what you might hear on one of his solo albums, or maybe ABWH. That said, it is a really solid piece with about forty different sections and one wicked swing. The outro jam (“Wheels”) is stunning. 

Aside from superior production, one big thing that The Quest had going for it was that they weren’t trying to chase a pop single. This is a prog record. These songs are cosmic, they are clever, they are out-there, and they aren’t trying to be anything but what they are. 

“The Western Edge” is a very uplifting, grand little epic that probably treads the closest to single territory of all these songs, while still maintaining the vibe of the album. This leads into the mostly acoustic “Future Memories”, written solely by Davison. This is a moody little song that is very well written, and very deep and personal. It is a bit different for a Yes album but it works and does so beautifully. 

Next up is Howe’s “Music To My Ears” which has some solid moments but is ultimately the weakest song on the album. The band does a noble job making is work, and it definitely has the ability to get stuck in your head, but it’s just a bit juvenile. 

Fortunately that’s not the case for the three-part “A Living Island”, which closes out the main part of the album. Co-written by Davison and Geoff Downes, this is yet another in a series of phenomenal album closers. This features some great, understated playing, including a very light, but incredibly effective drum performance from Alan White, with Jay Schellen’s percussion coloring the background. One of my favorite latter-day Yes tracks. 

Included with the album was a bonus disc, featuring three additional songs from the sessions - on the vinyl edition, it’s just side four. The most successful of these is “Sister Sleeping Soul”, which absolutely could have been a single. And should have. I get how it doesn’t quite fit on the main album but this is one hell of a track. Just complex enough to be intriguing but also catchy as all hell (I am certain to wake up with this in my head tomorrow). 

Written by Steve Howe, “Mystery Tour” is a far-too-literal homage to the Beatles, set to a super catchy, strummy pop song. It’s a fun one but definitely belongs on a bonus disc. As does Howe’s “Damaged World”, which he sings. It’s not a bad song but it’s more of a songy song, and definitely would not fit on the main album. This sounds about as far from pretty much any other version of Yes as ever, but still has that same spirit. 

Sadly, this was to be Alan White’s final work with Yes, before his 2022 death. Up to that point, he had the longest unbroken tenure in Yes (50 years), appearing on every album and tour since he replaced Bill Bruford in 1972. Jay Schellen is an amazing drummer, and I look forward to cheering him on, but Alan will be forever missed. 

This concludes the studio discography. Until May, that is, when the new album, Mirror To The Sky, is released. I am looking very forward to that. It’s been a lot of fun revisiting this catalogue, which I usually do a couple times a year. My best friend turned me onto them in late 1987, when we were 13, and I have stuck with them ever since, no matter the album or the lineup. I look very forward to the new album, and the one after that, and the one after that…

Next up, the live albums.

Yes: Fly From Here - Return Trip (2018)

As mentioned before, following the release of Fly From Here, vocalist Benoit David was forced to leave the band due to medical issues and was replaced by Jon Davison, who remains the Yes vocalist to this day. 

However, in 2018, the mix was totally shaken up with the release of Fly From Here: Return Trip. While the initial 2011 release of Fly From Here featured Benoit David, who did a hell of a job, the album really was Trevor Horn’s baby. Half of the album was based on material that he wrote, some of which he sang with Yes during his time in the band, and the album bears his production stamp. Despite the “No Jon No Yes” detractors, the album was an artistic triumph. 

So when, in 2018, this revised and re-edited version of the album appeared, bearing the subtitle, “Return Trip”, I was intrigued. Horn went back in and trimmed down a lot of the title suite (which initially took up the whole of side one), as well as the rest of the album. 

He also completely wiped Benoit David from the album and replaced the vocals with his own. And, the thing is, it was a totally legit move. This is his project and, more importantly, this effectively reunited the Drama lineup and further validated that short-lived iteration. There is no reason why this should not exist. 

Except that it was a massive dick move. I mean, one of the shittiest things a band has ever done to an ex-member. Now, while it’s always great to hear songs sung by the composer, Benoit did an amazing job on the original album, and his performance is by far the superior of the two. Adding salt to the wound, Benoit was even airbrushed out of the band photo inside the gatefold. Were it not for the eventual release of From A Page, we may never remember that poor Benoit helped to save Yes and was stellar throughout his tenure. 

Not that Horn does a bad job. He is great. Some of the edits in the suite are pretty slick while others make little sense. His mix of the “Sad Night At The Airfield” completely recasts that song as a more ethereal experience and is really cool, despite being inferior to the original. Elsewhere, the fat is trimmed, and there are a few shifts in arrangement here and there. Around three minutes are cut, in total. I don’t think this really improves the piece, but I always appreciate alternative perspectives. 

This truncation allowed for Squire’s lovely “The Man You Always Wanted Me To Be”, to close the first side, rather than open the second. With the extended, jammy outro, this change is fitting. 

This also allows the dark, cinematic “Life On A Film Set” to open side two. This is another piece that is derived from an old Buggles demo, and is one that really benefits from Trevor Horn singing. 

Steve Howe’s “Hour Of Need”, which appeared on Fly From Here as a very pretty, folk-pop song, is given an extended intro and outro on this restored full-length mix. This definitely changes the song, as does Horn’s voice behind Howe’s. It is far cooler, though it’s totally understandable why it was edited to begin with. This outro jam is bangin’.

This leads to Howe’s solo instrumental, “Solitaire”, which is a really cool piece with a nice little chug that, on the original album, would lead right into the epic “Into The Storm”, to close out the album. 

On the Return Trip, however, this leads into a previously unheard song, ironically titled “Don’t Take No For An Answer”.  Written and sung by Steve Howe, there is no question as to why this was cut from the original album. It is, however, one more chance to hear a Yes song with Chris Squire’s bass, and I always appreciate that. 

Fortunately this ends and we get “Into The Storm” to close out the album. This sounds really great, especially the Horn/Squire blend. Is it better than the original? No, that would be impossible. Is it on par? Perhaps. 

The most noticeable difference between these two versions of this album is in the production. The original release was mixed and mastered much louder, or at least it was much hotter, crisper. Return Trip, however, is more refined. The drums are not as up front as before (but nowhere near as distant as on Heaven & Earth). The overall vibe is mellower than the original but everything still sounds incredible. 

While I love the fact that this exists, simply so that there is an official follow-up to Drama (one of my favorite albums ever), it does not compare to the original. Trevor Horn is a good singer but, honestly, Benoit David does a better Trevor Horn than the man himself. There was a lot more vocal muscle on the original.

What irks me is that this was originally intended to be an alternate view of this album but it ended up supplanting it instead. The original is out of print, and it’s not streaming anywhere, and that is a bummer. There is plenty of room in this world (and my collection) for both albums. The more Yes, the merrier. 

Benoit David deserves more.

 

Yes - Heaven And Earth (2014)

 

So now we come to the most maligned album in the entire Yes discography, 2014’s Roy Thomas Baker-produced Heaven And Earth. This album marked the debut of Jon Davison, who assumed the lead vocal spot after Benoit David left in 2012. After touring the Fly From Here album, as well as embarking on a few ”classic album” tours (stay tuned for those), it was time to make it official with an album. 

Unlike Benoit, Davison took the lead in the creative process, flying all over the world and writing individually with each member, as well as writing some on his own. This was a bold move but one that really could have paid off tremendously if they had Any Other Producer On Earth. I don’t know why they chose Baker. It didn’t work in 1979, why try again. His style is very hushed and precise - the opposite of Horn’s larger-than-life capture of the band on Fly From Here. The drums are mixed low and have no umph, despite Alan White playing the hell out of them. As a result, these songs come across as limp, which is really a shame because these are actually good songs. Well, mostly. They deserved more than what RTB had to offer. 

Davison sings in a tenor that makes him capable of singing the classics but is generally on the softer side than his predecessors’. It is quite distinctive, though, and he lets his own character shine on these performances. He’s not there to play a part, and I appreciate the hell out of that. Also, his voice blends perfectly with Squire’s, in a sound that is both familiar and fresh. His writing is clever but not too deep or out-there, and he can also get emotional as well. He’s done a hell of a job and has only gotten better over the years. 

Anyway….so the album kicks off with “Believe Again”, a complex, well-written song that could have been a decent fanfare but instead is muffled and restrained. It was released as a single and I’m not sure that helped the band much. 

“The Game”, co-written with Squire, had everything in place to be one hell of a single, including a killer performance from Davison, a singalong chorus, a nice positive message, but instead it was flattened in the engineer booth. 

While I may rail on the overall sound, the songs and arrangements are generally great. The only real dud moment is “Step Beyond”, which is a decent song that is marred by this really stupid synth loop that runs the whole fucking time. Co-written with Howe, and sung in tandem between he and Davison, this is saved by some great backing vocals from Squire, a few pretty cool sections, and a really fantastic bridge. The best part about this is it leads into “To Ascend”. Co-written by Davison and Alan White, this is one of the most beautiful songs to ever be released under the Yes banner. I defy any detractor to find something wrong with this song. 

Squire provides “In A World Of Our Own”, written with Davison, which has this slippery sort of swampy Beatles groove that is very uncharacteristic for Yes, as is the acerbic, snarky lyric. But it’s also a really cool song, and the last to feature Squire’s name in the credits. 

“Light Of The Ages” is the first to feature a solo Davison writing credit and is majestic, very Yessish. This could have easily fit on any one of their mid ‘70s releases. If only they had called Eddie Offord to produce. 

Steve Howe provides the strummy “It Was All We Knew”, which he sings in a duet with Davison. This is a nice little song but perhaps not necessarily at home on a Yes album. Shoulda been the Japanese bonus track. 

This all leads to the epic “Subway Walls”, which closes the album. Perhaps the proggiest moment on this record, this is a song that absolutely should have been played live. The orchestral intro recalls Magnification a bit, and this features some fantastic playing by Howe and Squire. However, this is another song that is totally screwed over by the production. Had Trevor Horn been behind the board, this would be a classic. 

Sadly, this was to be the last Yes album to feature Chris Squire (the only one who had appeared on them all), who passed away in 2015. While it’s a shame that he had to go out on such a gaffe of an album, he left that album with some of the finest playing of his career.

Yes - Fly From Here (2011)

 

So it came to be that Yes returned from a four year hiatus in 2008 with two new members. Oliver Wakeman filled his dad’s shoes while Mystery’s Benoit David assumed the lead vocal spot, and this new lineup hit the road on a tour they dubbed “In The Present”. Soon after, they hit the studio to begin work on the next Yes album. They got down a number of songs (including several by Oliver Wakeman, which now make up From A Page) before deciding to contact Trevor Horn about producing a new version of “We Can Fly From Here”, a song that dated from his time in Yes, which they never recorded. 

With the arrival of Horn, also came several related pieces of music that date from right after his time in Yes, which expanded that song into a suite. Being that most of this music dated from their time as Buggles, it made most sense to bring Geoff Downes back into the band. Unfortunately, as a result, Wakeman was shown the door, along with most of his contributions to the band’s next album (aside from the closing track, “Into The Storm”, which is one of the best latter-day Yes tracks). 

The resulting album, Fly From Here, appeared in 2011 and was a relative triumph, detractors aside. The title suite took up the entirely of side one and, with few exceptions, was all killer, as was the rest of the album, really. 

Side two features shorter songs, and a lead-vocal-by-committee situation, as Chris Squire lakes the lead on “The Man You Always Wanted Me To Be”, which is a song that does not get enough attention. “Life On A Film Set” is another one that is derived from an old Buggles demo and is performed, to great effect. Steve Howe offers up “Hour Of Need” which is a nice, simple, straightforward song that he sings in tandem with Benoit, marking his first lead vocal on a Yes album (we will later find that this is only part of the actual song). Howe gets in a solo guitar piece, with the lovely “Solitaire”, before “Into The Storm” blows everything wide open. This is expertly crafted and performed. One of the top performances by the core of Howe/Squire/White, in the entire time they played together. An absolutely killer way to close out a fantastic album. 

There are those who dismiss any Yes that does not include Jon Anderson but I do not buy into that. Yes has always been more than just the sum of its parts (one listen to Jon’s solo discography will support that theory) and every version of Yes has something to offer. 

The band sounds incredible here, everyone playing at the top of their game, while also being careful to always serve the song. It is especially nice to hear Squire’s voice in the mix, as well as his bass. He is so sorely missed, as is Alan White, who also sounds great. While Geoff Downes might not possess the skills of either Wakeman, he still plays tastefully and never gets in the way of the songs. 

Benoit David does a hell of a job here. While he always sounded great singing the classics on stage, he was always at his best when he didn’t have to try and mimic Anderson. Of course, much of this album finds him emulating Trevor Horn, so…

Before the band could hit the road to support this album, in a cruel ironic twist, Benoit was sidelined by a respiratory illness and was forced to leave the band. It was a pretty raw deal, but it was nothing compared to him being retconned out of this very album, six years later. We’ll get to that…

Yes: From A Page (rec. 2008/9)

 Yes went on hiatus following the Full Circle tour and had a planned return scheduled for 2008 when Jon Anderson fell critically ill with a respiratory illness. The rest of the band, tired of being off the road, recruited Benoit David, from the Montreal prog band, Mystery, and set off on their merry way on a tour called In The Present. 

Also absent was Rick Wakeman, who bowed out for health issues of his own. In his place was his son, Oliver, who very ably filled his father’s shoes. This tour produced a live album, also called In The Present. 

Soon, it was time for this lineup to hit the studio, with Wakeman providing a number of songs that the band ended up recording for their next album. 

However….

After bringing in Trevor Horn to produce a resurrected song from his time in the band, it was decided that Geoff Downes should return to the fold as well, since he was just as responsible for that music. 

So then poor Oliver Wakeman, and his songs, were sent packing, and nothing was ever spoken of it again. Until 2019, when the live album was reissued. 

With the band’s blessing, Oliver completed those shelved recordings, which were added as a bonus disc and released as a vinyl EP, to the shock and surprise of their entire fanbase. 

And.….this is fantastic. An entire little hidden chapter in the band’s history, a version of Yes from the point of view of the one member to never appear on an album. There are four songs on this set, the best of which is “To The Moment”, which is one of the finest post-Anderson tracks. Likewise, “Notes On A Page” is stunning, one of the most beautiful choruses I’ve ever heard, while the 10-minute “The Gift Of Love” is cinematic in nature.  The band sounds great on these tracks. This is material that they clearly spent some time and effort on. It is wonderful to see it get its turn to shine. 

“From The Turn Of A Card” is a song that was on the slate for the album, but not recorded then, so is instead featured in a newly recorded version, featuring Oliver and Benoit. It’s a really pretty song. There always has to be one of those and it’s nice for them to get the spotlight they deserved, especially since they both were given a raw deal. 

This set of course piques my curiosity - how many more little detours like this exist in the vault? Surely there must be a lot, the way this band constantly shifts. A few tracks with Eddie Jobson, perhaps? A few with Roger Hodgson, maybe? However, if the answer is none, From A Page is more than sufficient. Thank you to everyone involved in getting this out. 

Above all that, the best part of this EP is, being that it came out four years after Chris Squire died, we are able to hear “new” Yes music featuring his distinctive bass and voice, and that is a friggin’ blessing.

Yes: Acoustic (2004)

 

Yeah I know this isn’t vinyl, and not really an album, but the tracks on this acoustic bonus EP from 2004 represent the final recordings by the “classic” lineup of Yes, which is where we are at this point. 

Celebrating the 35th anniversary of Yes, Rick Wakeman rejoined Jon Anderson, Chris Squire, Steve Howe, and Alan White for the Full Circle Tour. There was a new compilation released and the band recorded this session as a fun extra for the set. “Roundabout” gets an interesting swing reboot, while the epic “South Side Of The Sky” gets pulled from the mothballs and given new life. Steve Howe recasts his “Australia” as an instrumental, and Chris Squire rearranges part of Dvorak’s ”New World Symphony” for bass and that is pretty fun. 

The real highlight is “Show Me”, the last song Jon Anderson would bring to Yes. An absolutely gorgeous strummer with a poignant, emotional lyric, it’s a fitting coda to his time in the band. 

I really wish they would release these tracks on vinyl.

Yes: Magnification (2001)

 Following the departure of Billy Sherwood and Igor Koroshev in 2000, Yes opted to not replace them but instead decided that their next album would utilize an orchestra, in lieu of keyboards. Thirty years prior, they recorded their second album, Time And A Word, with an orchestra. In the case of that album, the songs were already there and the orchestra just doubled what someone else was already playing (or replaced, on occasion, a practice that crated a rift that ultimately led to the departure of a Peter Banks). This resulted in a cluttered, unfocused album. In the case of Magnification, however, the songs and segues were devised with the orchestra in mind. This way, all of the elements could coexist, without getting in each other’s way. 

The density in this album comes mostly from the songs themselves. After some recent flirtations, there seemed to be a conscious effort to steer away from cheesy shit. Occasionally, they get close but always manage to dodge it just in time, by detouring into some kind of new territory. Unconventional was the theme of this record and they totally pulled that off.

 

There is a little bit of pop on this set - “Don’t Go” was a great single - but most of this was born much closer to the prog end of the spectrum. Songs like “Give Love Each Day”, “Dreamtime”, “We Agree”, and “In The Presence Of” are every bit as intricate as the most classic Yes material. 

The title track mixes prog and pop and is pretty magnificent, especially the way the orchestra leads the band into the wicked “Spirit Of Survival”, which is one of the most impressive tracks from this era. 

The 1981 XYZ sessions (Squire/White + Jimmy Page) were mined once again for “Can You Imagine”, which finds Squire taking the lead vocal spot quite ably. Elsewhere, “Soft As A Dove” beautifully fills the “pretty song” quota, which is further stretched with the hypnotic singalong, “Time Is Time”, which closes out the album. 

The string arrangements were done by the great Larry Groupé, and his charts are every bit a part of these songs as the voice and band instruments. That collaboration no doubt inspired the band’s writing which is more sophisticated than ever. The result is a one of the most unique album, in a discography full of unique albums. 

Magnification would ultimately become the last Yes album to feature Jon Anderson, as his health forced him to leave the band, which has long since moved on without him. His absence has created the greatest rift in their fanbase (who is infamous for bickering over everything) but I don’t buy into it. I champion every lineup and will forever support whoever is keeper of the flame. As far as I’m concerned, Yes is a brand, a style, a musical ideology, and it has been ever since the day Peter Banks got the shaft. Many different captains have steered the ship and kept the message alive, and it’s always been up to the present incarnation to not only perpetuate the legacy, but to add to it as well. So long as the official lineup remains part of the same evolutionary thread then, as Rick Wakeman predicted in 1991, Yes could go on for 100 years or more. 

Of course, it would be great if somehow Anderson were able to return in some capacity but if that never happens then Magnification is a most triumphant way to go out.

Yes: The Ladder (1999)

 After the 1997 Squire/Sherwood-helmed Open Your Eyes, Yes’ next course of action was to take up residence in Vancouver and write the next album as a band. Working with veteran producer Bruce Fairbairn (on what turned out to be his final project) the resulting album is one of Yes’ most stylistically diverse, and one where each individual player had their say. 

The prog returned in full force on epics such as “Homeworld (the ladder)” and “New Language”. The former was written for a video game while the latter features a particularly impressive performance from keyboardist Igor Koroshev. 

There is also a fair bit of pop on this album, including the uplifting “It Will Be A Good Day (the river)” and the energetic “Finally”.  “If Only You Knew” is extremely cheesy but also very well-written; a perfect love song that could have been a massive hit if it had been marketed as such. 

The afrobeat-inspired “Lightning Strikes” is very well done if perhaps something that would have been better suited for a solo Jon Anderson release. “Can I?” is a bizarre reboot of “We Have Heaven”, with a tribal vibe. This would be a wtf moment it it didn’t lead so brilliantly into the propulsive “Face To Face”. One of the great underrated Yes songs (and one that features a bit that sounds like “Rebubula” by moe.), this is one of several from this album to be played live by the band on the accompanying tour. 

While there are many highlights on this record, perhaps the best is “To Be Alive (hep yadda)”, one of the most perfect Yes songs ever. All of this album’s various styles and influences all come together on this super positive affirmation of life that could only come from a band called YES. 

The album-closing “Nine Voices (longwalker)” is another campfire gem, in the vein of “Holy Lamb” and “Wonderous Stories”, and is one that has been performed by more than one school choir (and never fails to bring the goosebumps). 

Really this album’s only misstep (aside from that one super cheesy song) is “The Messenger”, a reggae-tinged tribute to Bob Marley that, while well-intentioned, comes across a bit like a book report and was not terribly necessary. 

Sadly, Fairbairn died before the sessions were completed, but the band soldiered on and dedicated the album to him. The Ladder was no smash but it was popular with fans (especially in hindsight) and the ensuing tour featured a heavy dose of this album on stage. 

The following year, Yes would undergo their first real “thematic” outing: the Masterworks Tour, where they played nothing but the epics. By the time that tour ended, the band was reduced to a quartet (with the loss of Koroshev) and they were plotting their next move, which would be among their boldest.…

Yes: Open Your Eyes (1997)

 After the fiasco that was 1996’s Keys To Ascension project, Yes found themselves without Rick Wakeman (yet again) and so they regrouped and co-opted a Chris Squire solo album, picking up veteran collaborator Billy Sherwood along the way. Featuring a more radio-friendly sound than Keys To Ascension, and less input from Anderson & Howe, this is one of the band’s most polarizing albums. It is also one of my all time favorite Yes albums. 

When this album came out, I really hated it, just like I hated Talk. A die-hard Yes fan, I realized that this was a me-problem and, to combat it, I made a tape with this album on one side, and Talk on the other. I then removed all music from my car, except for that tape, and listened to nothing but that tape until I finally got it. Once it clicked, I could never again understand why I ever hated those albums. 

Of the two, Open Your Eyes is the one that I have latched onto the most (love Rabin but prefer Howe), and it has gone on to become one of my favorite albums of all time. Every song is accessible, memorable, tuneful, well written, and expertly performed and produced (seriously, this album sounds incredible). 

Some of these songs, like the title track and the monumental “Universal Garden”, stand among my favorites of Yes’ entire run, but really every song from this album is fantastic (aside from the last song, ”The Solution” - that stinker should have remained in the vault). This is definitely “pop” Yes. This is a band trying to get played on the radio. Not a lot of prog here, except perhaps in the arrangements. But it still clearly sounds like Yes (in fact, this album is far Yessier than it ever gets credit for being). In a far better world, songs like “Love Shine”, “Fortune Seller”, and “Wonderlove” would have been smash hits. This album kinda reminds me of what Big Generator might have sounded like if Steve Howe was on it. 

As this began as a Squire/Sherwood project, and was very quickly recorded as a Yes album, there’s not a lot of Anderson or or Howe in the creative realm (they are both amazing throughout, but on material already written). To make up for it, they provide the acoustic/vocal duet “From The Balcony” which is one of their prettiest songs ever.  

With a sleeve that pays homage to Yes’ first album, Open Your Eyes itself marks a new beginning, the next phase of Yes. Their next album would be far more collaborative and a far greater success, but I will always love Open Your Eyes more.

Yes: Keys To Ascension (1996)

 After the tour for 1994’s Talk wrapped up, Trevor Rabin and Tony Kaye handed in their notices which opened the door for the return of Steve Howe and Rick Wakeman. This would mark the first time since 1979 that the “classic” Yes lineup worked together, and their first course of action was to perform three shows, near Jon Anderson’s home in San Luis Obispo, which would be recorded for a live album. 

Their next move was to enter the studio and record their first material together in almost two decades. This new music was a step aside from the commercial stylings of the last several albums, and instead featured the return of extended, multi-sectioned pieces, and complex prog arrangements. Some of this sits among the best music ever created under the Yes name. The fact that it was created by this particular lineup made it even more special. 

And then they took this material and stashed it away as bonus tracks on the above-mentioned live album, which was then split into two volumes, released over a year apart. Much of this came down to their label, who felt that fans would be more apt to buy a new album for the live tracks. That was a naïve stance that totally backfired, ensuring that what could have been a triumphant comeback would be relegated to footnote status, at best. 

This fumbled rollout also featured the cancellation of a tour, which then led to Wakeman leaving the band for the fourth time, and Yes swiftly moving on from this debacle. They would soon co-opt a Chris Squire solo album and hastily turn it into a Yes album, which became Open Your Eyes, and then tour on the back of that with a retooled lineup, leaving the Keys era long behind. 

To add further insult to injury, the bulk of this was held back by label bullshit and not released until the following year, three weeks before the release of Open Your Eyes. This just led to confusion and hurt both albums in the process. 

It’s a shame because this material is outstanding. Some of the most collaborative music to come under the Yes banner for decades. Had fans gotten the opportunity to experience this music on the merits of itself alone, rather than present it alongside live performances of the band’s most classic pieces, I think this would have been incredibly successful. 

The 18-minute “Mind Drive” takes a riff that was born during the 1981 “XYZ” sessions and expands it into one of this lineup’s most impressive pieces. A singular giant while, at 19 minutes, the multi-sectioned “That, That Is” plays more like a song cycle than a unified piece but is no less astounding. “Foot Prints”, despite being almost ten minutes, is really catchy, and could have been a single. Anderson’s signature cosmic, hippy dippy, new age sentiments are all over these songs, especially the bouncy “Bring Me To The Power” and the epic “Children Of Light”, which originally started life as an unreleased ABWH track called “Distant Thunder”. Closing it all is a rare Howe/Wakeman collaboration, on the dreamy instrumental, “Sign Language”. 

All in all, this a killer album that is absolutely worth the extended effort required to access it. To date, this is the only Yes album to never be released on vinyl and that is something that drives me absolutely batshit crazy.

Yes: Talk (1994)

I loved both 90125 and Big Generator and had high hopes for this album when it came out but then really hated it when I heard it. It took a good deal of time and effort before I finally cracked the code. Once I did, it all made sense. This is actually a fantastic album, and one that I now adore a great deal. 

This was one of the first commercially released albums to be recorded entirely on Pro Tools. It’s really loud - Alan White’sdrums are pushing way into the red for sure. This one is just begging for a Steven Wilson remix that it will never receive. 

The songs are a mixed bag, but they all shine in one way or another. Some are absorbed instantly while others take time. ”Real Love” is one of the best Yes tracks of all of the ‘90s, while “The Calling” is a single that should have been a hit (along with “Walls”, a personal favorite). “I Am Waiting” has strong elements of cheese, mixed with clever badassery, while “State Of Play” is a killer track with an odd, sort of New Jack beat to it, and the hypnotic “Where Will You Be” sounds more like a Jon Anderson solo track than a Yes song, but it has some really cool sections, and ample room for Trevor Rabin to shred. 

Capping the album (and this era) off with the 15-minute “Endless Dream” was a total boss move. One of the most impressive works by this lineup (or by any lineup). 

It’s interesting to note that, after the passing of Alan White last year, there is no one on this album who is in the current incarnation of Yes, but both lineups can be directly linked via an unbroken evolution. Unlike many, I find this to be very cool. 

Unfortunately, given the musical climate in 1994, this album already sounded dated the day it was released and, being on an indie label, it totally sank. Had this come out two or three years earlier, on a major, I think this could have been a pretty big deal.

Yes: Union (1991)

 

After the success of the first ABWH album, the band headed back in to create a follow-up. A lot of songs were demoed and recorded but they didn’t quite have a single. So Jon Anderson called up Trevor Rabin, who was still in the official Yes lineup, and asked if he had a song to kick over. Trevor agreed, but not without conditions. And so it came to be that ABWH and Yes came together to form a sort of Mega Yes, for an album called Union. The ABWH material was remixed and bolstered by a trio of Rabin-led Yes songs, as well as one outstanding track from Chris Squire & Billy Sherwood. 

However, it must be mentioned that this album was a total sham. At no point were there all eight members of the band on the same track. At most, Anderson lent his vocals to Rabin’s songs, and Squire added harmonies to the ABWH songs. That was it. In fact, thanks to producer Jonathan Elias, you are not always hearing Wakeman & Howe’s parts, as others were brought in to redo them. A total fiasco, drummed up in a boardroom, designed to sell. And it did. “Lift Me Up” was a pretty successful single and the album made a respectable dent in the charts. 

The thing is - and I might be biased as this album came out during my junior year of high school and was an album that I played to death - but this is actually quite a good album. A few songs could be better, but the one-two punch of the opening “I Would Have Waited Forever” and “Shock To The System” find ABWH exploring more commercial territory, and doing so quite well, while “Miracle Of Life” sees the Rabin-led Yes going into a more prog direction (that intro is one of the raddest things to grace a Yes album since “Sound Chaser”). “Without Hope You Cannot Start The Day” has a vibe that carries over a bit from the first ABWH album, and is magnificent, while “Take The Water To The Mountain” sounds more like a solo Anderson song, and is a lovely way to close out the album. “The More We Live - Let Go”, from Squire & Sherwood, is a beautiful, thoughtful, underrated song, but then Rabin’s “Saving My Heart” is one of the corniest pop songs the early ‘90s had to offer. ABWH’s “Silent Talking” points the way toward the late ‘90s Yes sound but that same lineup’s “Dangerous” is no doubt the most dated song on this set. 

It would be easy to slag this album on principles alone but, the thing is, Union sounds and plays really well. There might be far too many cooks in the kitchen but there are some true hidden gems on this album and it deserves to be acknowledged more.

Anderson Bruford Wakeman Howe (1989)

 After 1987’s Big Generator, Jon Anderson left Yes for the second time. Tired of butting heads with Trevor Rabin, Anderson had a plan to get the Fragile-era lineup back together. Excluding Chris Squire, who was still in Yes, this new band featured Bill Bruford, Rick Wakeman, and Steve Howe. This was a marketer’s dream come true and Arista was quick to snatch up this new development, releasing the debut album from Anderson Bruford Wakeman Howe in 1989. Touring the Yes classics, especially at a time when the official lineup was out of the public eye, was perfectly-timed. 

Musically, while this is a retreat from the commercial-leaning sounds of the prior Yes albums, this is still no throwback to the early days. The songs are multi-sectioned, and go through a variety of styles, but the players have grown and changed and that is reflected in the music. Bruford sticks to electronic drums, which more or less dates and defines this album, while Wakeman’s keyboards are far less flashy and intrusive as they have been in the past, but Steve Howe’s playing is as distinctive as ever and while his guitar does not dominate it does color the tracks in a way that sets this album from anything Yes had ever done. 

Four of the songs on this album are multi-sectioned suites. Of these, “Brother Of Mine” is the best, and was a relatively successful single (in a heavily edited version). “Order Of The Universe” is a cool little suite that plays more like four separate songs than a unified whole, as does “Quartet”. The shorter songs are mostly great, especially “Fist Of Fire” and the dark, powerful “Birthright” which is, hands down ABWH’s finest moment. “The Meeting” (which foreshadows the 2010s Anderson/Wakeman collaborations) and “Let’s Pretend” are both nice, simple songs that calmly close out each side, while the chipper, Caribbean-styled “Teakbois” almost throws the wheels off the whole thing (how this song made it to the album and the amazing “Vultures” was relegated to a b-side is a mystery that shall never be solved). 

Given that the entirety of this band was in Yes, this is basically a Yes album, for all intents and purposes, and I always file it as such, and it’s a damn fine Yes album from a very weird time. It would get weirder.…

Yes: Big Generator (1987)

After the blockbuster success of 90125, the heat was on for Yes to craft the mother of all follow-ups. Trevor Horn was brought back in to produce but, after butting heads with Trevor Rabin one time too many, he split and left them to it. Rabin tinkered endlessly on this album, and a creative rift grew widely between Anderson and Rabin, whose grip on this lineup continued to tighten, which would lead to Anderson leaving the band for the second time. 

This album gets a lot of shit, and is often ignored, but really it is a fantastic album that is squarely of its time. Again, they flirt with pop, on the album-opening “Rhythm Of Love” and the catchy “Love Will Find A Way” (both sizable hits at the time), while they get in Floyd territory with the majestic “Shoot High Aim Low”.  “I’m Running” was salvaged from the 1981 XYZ sessions, and turned into a brilliant Yes epic, which brilliantly follows the equally epic “Final Eyes”, a love song that, while a bit cheesy at times, harkens back to an early Yes sound and could have been a single. Alan White offered up the upbeat “Almost Like Love”, a hyperactive soul rave-up, and Anderson’s closing “Holy Lamb” is one of his most beautiful offerings to this world. 

This was the band’s current release when I first got into Yes, in 8th grade, and this album is one of those that shaped the era for me, and offers nothing but the fondest of memories. I get why some of the more “selective” fans may not dig this but I absolutely adore this album.

Yes: 90125 (1983)

 

After the tour for 1980’s Drama, the hybrid Yes/Buggles lineup found itself splintering. Trevor Horn pursued a career in production, Steve Howe & Geoff Downes went off to form Asia, leaving Chris Squire & Alan White, who released a holiday single as a duo and tried to form a band with Jimmy Page (called XYZ) before linking up with Trevor Rabin, from Rabbitt. Initially, they were to form a band called Cinema, recruiting founding Yes keyboardist Tony Kaye along the way, and setting forth on recording an album. At the boards was Trevor Horn and the album was gearing up to be big. A chance encounter led to Jon Anderson returning to the band and at that point there’s no choice but to call it Yes. However, this was a completely different Yes, yet one that featured more original members than any other incarnation since Kaye left in 1971. 

While this album has a mid-80s AOR vibe, it runs so much deeper than simple radio rock. This is radio rock, fed through the Yes filter. Arrangements are tight and twisted, time signatures flying all over the place. Some songs, like “Our Song”and “Hearts”, recall Yes’ earlier eras, while others like  “Leave It” and the smash “Owner Of A Lonely Heart” find the band taking pop music and perfecting it. The band gets down and dirty on “City Of Love”, Trevor Rabin shines on “Changes”, offering a whole new vocal palette for the band. Squire’s “It Can Happen” is upgraded to a mini masterpiece, the instrumental “Cinema” offers a nod to this album’s beginnings, and “Hold On” is Yes at their most anthemic.  

So-called “purists” really looked down on this album, and the era, but it seems to have grown in popularity over the decades. As it should, because this is an absolutely flawless album that sounds just as impressive (if not more) now as it did 40 years ago.

Yes: Drama (1980)

 In 1979, sessions for a follow-up to the patchy Tormato crumbled, personally and creatively, and when the smoke cleared, Anderson and Wakeman were gone. After some time spent regrouping as a trio, a chance encounter led to Squire, Howe, and White teaming up with Horn and Downes, otherwise known as the Buggles. This was, quite possibly, the biggest WTF moment in all of prog history. 

The crazy thing is.…it worked. The resulting album, Drama, is among the highlights of the band’s vast catalogue. As with pretty much every era of Yes, this was not without its share of controversy, and there was a bit of backlash due to the absence of Anderson (it still happens). Musically, this is still Yes but it moves in directions never before explored, and Trevor Horn’s voice blends perfectly with Squire and Howe. 

The ten-minute “Machine Messiah” opens the album and is among the heaviest and most intricate songs the band ever attempted. “White Car” is just Horn and Downes (so, basically, a Buggles track). “Does It Really Happen” has roots that go back to the Tormato sessions, while “Run Through The Light” was the lone piece salvaged from the aborted 1979 sessions. The Buggles’ presence took those tracks to the next level. 

The reverse was true with the epic “Into The Lens”, which began as a Buggles song (later recorded and released as “I Am A Camera”), infused with enough Yes to make it a vital part of the canon. 

The showstopper is the album-closing “Tempus Fugit”, with its rapid fire bass lines - this riff became the centerpiece of Squire’s live showcase, “Whitefish”, during the time when this song was off the table. The song - time flies - it’s brilliant. It started as a jam by the trio and that rawness makes its way into the song. Trevor Horn puts in a hell of a performance, as does Alan White, and the rest of the band, really. 

Rarely has a band been able to rally so quickly, and so definitively, following a devastating blow. Unfortunately the press and public were not entirely kind to them and it quickly took its toll, as the band was to split following the tour. 

Howe and Downes went on to form Asia, Horn moved into production, while Squire and White moved through a couple of projects before a whole more thing presented itself….

Yes: Tormato (1978)

 1977’s Going For The One found the reformed Anderson/Howe/Squire/Wakeman/White lineup of Yes capture lightning in a bottle. This hastily-created follow-up proves that you won’t necessarily do it twice. This album relies totally on shorter songs that move through several different moods and vibes, with varying degrees of quality. A few of these songs are totally badass - “Release, Release”, “On The Silent Wings Of Freedom”, and “Arriving UFO” are all fiery little masterpieces. However there are others like “Don’t Kill The Whale” which, while well-intended, sounds like it was written by a 12 year old, and the trite “Circus Of Heaven” which is possibly the worst song in the entire Yes catalogue. “Madrigal” is one that floats right by but Squire’s “Onward” is one of the cheesiest yet most beautiful love songs ever written. 

Legend has it that Rick Wakeman threw a tomato at the cover photo when he first saw it. Whether that is true or not, this does boast one of the worst album covers in of all rock & roll history. 

While the album is much better than the sleeve it is still a bit of a mess and can be considered the first true mis-step in the band’s development. 

Unfortunately it would all go downhill from here, as this band would splinter while in the midst of recording what was shaping up to be a most terrible album. And then bounce back in the Yessiest of fashions.…

Yes: Going For The One (1977)

 

Back to the standard originals. I wish Steven Wilson would remix this. Even without the upgrade, this album is still phenomenal. Definitely the best of the Anderson/Howe/Squire/Wakeman/White lineup. Still not the biggest fan of “Turn Of The Century” but it is a beautiful piece and the rest of the tracks are super tight, especially the monumental “Awaken”. The title track is one of Yes’ best short songs, “Wondrous Stories” is Yes at its prettiest, and Squire’s “Parallels” points the way to the Yes of the ‘80s, and is a song that should have been a hit.

All in all, a killer album that is only marred by the absence of Roger Dean’s art on the cover. Hipgnosis made some great sleeves for other artists but their aesthetic does not suit Yes. The music, however, is perfect.

Yes: Relayer (1974) - Steven Wilson Remix

 

Wrapping up the SW remixes with this amazing album. The only album to feature Patrick Moraz on keyboards, this release finds the band in jazzier, more obtuse territory than ever before. Styled like Close To The Edge (one side-long track followed by two half-side tracks on side two) but it’s musical polar opposite. This music is dark, dense, and weird. Some of the coolest music ever released under the Yes banner. 

This new mix is is gigantic yet crystal clear and I love being able to zone in on Squire’s bass….he’s playing like a demon on this record. Some of the best playing of his career. The entire band is sounding amazing, and that energy is brought to life by this new mix, as well as all of the other remixed albums in this set. 

Unlike the other albums in this set, the Relayer artwork is unchanged from the original.  Just spiffed up a bit. 

I would love if Steven Wilson remixed the rest of the Atlantic albums. Especially Going For The One - “Awaken”, yeah. He could maybe even make Tormato sound good, maybe smooth off some of the edges of the early albums. 

While this may have been one of my most irresponsible record purchases there are zero regrets here. This is everything I hoped it would be and was worth every penny. This entire package, from the box to the sleeves to the mixes to the songs themselves, it has just caused me to love Yes more than ever. 

Anyone on the fence who needs a devil on their shoulder, I’m yer guy.

Yes: Tales From Topographic Oceans (1973) - Steven Wilson Remix

 

Continuing on with the Steven Wilson remix of Tales From Topographic Oceans. This is fucking phenomenal. I can’t really say anything else. My face is sufficiently melted.

Yes: Close To The Edge (1972) - Steven Wilson Remix

 

If I were to list my three all-time favorite, most-perfect-always albums, it would be Abbey Road, A Love Supreme, and Close To The Edge. Three absolutely flawless records that, even after thousands of spins, never get old. 

Steven Wilson’s updated mix of Close To The Edge takes what was already a perfect album and improves it even further by adding a sense of depth and clarity that makes it possible to zero in on every nuance with a level of intimacy never before offered. 

Of all of Roger Dean’s updated album covers, this is the most dramatically changed, but is one that makes so much more sense than the original faded green. The painting in the gatefold is the same but they did not recreate the original inner sleeve, which is minor but still a bummer.

Really it’s all about the music and this new perspective further illustrates the genius of this band.

Yes: Fragile (1971) - Steven Wilson Remix

 

Continuing on with Steven Wilson’s remix of Fragile. This is a beautiful thing. While there are not a lot of Easter eggs in the mix, it’s the revelations in depth and clarity that are most stunning, especially the middle of “South Side Of The Sky”…..wow. 

This new mix of “Roundabout” opens the song up. 

This new mix of “The Fish” is just plain phenomenal. 

This new mix of “Heart Of The Sunrise” is fucking apocalyptic. 

To accompany these spiffy new mixes, Roger Dean created new versions of his cover paintings. While the original cover of Fragile is iconic, this makes that one look like a sketch. I love so much that he is still around, still creating, and still affiliated with Yes. He is as much a member of this band as anyone else, and this was one hell of an introduction.

Yes: The Yes Album (1971) - Steven Wilson Remix

 

Starting in on the SW remixes. I listened to “Yours Is No Disgrace” from my original copy, for reference, before dropping the needle on this crisp update. At first, I didn’t notice much but once the band really kicks in, the difference is clear as day. A lot of the brashness of the original is tamped down while the new mix adds greater depth and separation between the instruments that reveal layers never before noticed. I have listened to this album thousands of times, over 36 years, and I have never really heard it until now. 

I can’t wait to see what the rest of this series has to offer.

Yes: Time And A Word (1970)

 

After making their debut in 1969, the initial incarnation of Yes tried their hand at making an album with an orchestra (just like everyone else at the time). The result was this weird, cluttered record that downplayed Peter Banks’ guitar (which untimely led to the first lineup change) and is one that could most benefit from a remix. 

Song-wise, this took the sound of the first album and expanded upon it, maybe getting a little bolder, and a little more out-there than before. Songs like “Then”, and the monumental “Astral Traveler” find the band in full psych glory while “The Prophet” points toward the prog directions the band would soon take. At the same time, the catchy “Sweet Dreams”, and the exquisite title track show that Yes is also capable of hooks. 

Like the debut, this features two radically rearranged cover songs, both of which are among the most sophisticated pieces of music this version of the band ever performed. Richie Havens’ “No Opportunity Necessary, No Experience Needed” was infused with the theme to Big Country and was a live showstopper at the time, while the Buffalo Springfield’s “Everydays” is taken to its most logical space/jazz direction. 

It is a shame that things with Banks went sour - he was a hell of a guitarist and, at least on stage, his playing defined the band - but time has proven that Steve Howe was (and still is) the right dude for the gig. 

In fact, as Banks’ dismissal was before the American release of this album, it is Steve Howe who appears with the band on the cover (despite having not played a note). 

This initial era is terribly overlooked and has always been very dear to me. Things would go next level very soon. 

Anderson/Banks/Squire/Kaye/Bruford

Yes: Yes (1969)

Gearing up to give the Steven Wilson mixes their maiden spin so I figured I’d start at the beginning. Here, in 1969, the band is very new - some of this material originated in their precursor band, Mabel Greer’s Toy Shop, and some were cleverly arranged cover songs. The original songs were quite different from what was to come but they also sounded like no one else. This uniqueness would put Yes in its own league for the next half-century. An overlooked gem of a debut. 

Anderson/Banks/Squire/Kaye/Bruford

 

Grateful Dead: Steal Your Face (rec. 1974)

 

October 1974, after slogging for a decade, the Dead retired from the road, and did so after a blowout Winterland run, where they filmed a movie and recorded the whole thing. During what turned out to be just a break, the band put out this double album of songs from that run, emblazoned with (and titled after) the bands already iconic logo. This would turn out to be their last regular release for Grateful Dead Records. 

I refrain from calling this a collection of highlights because these tracks are anything but that. What this album presents is a band that sounds tired, and maybe they did that deliberately, so make a point. But what it also does is distill what was arguably the Dead’s greatest year as a live band into a flat, flawed, plodding set that was referred to by most as “Steal Your Money” 

Despite the fact that Phil and Bear mixed and compiled this album, there are no big guns or improv centerpieces here, nothing even remotely resembling weird. The only thing weird is how haphazard the sequence is. The only parts that seem to get it right are the opener (“Promised Land”) and the closer (“Casey Jones”). Everything in between is just oddly placed. If I was a fan at the time, and unsure if they would ever come back, this album would have pissed me off too. 

A much better example of this run of shows (featuring none of this material) can be heard on the 5CD Grateful Dead Movie Soundtrack, and that is well worth seeking out.

Grateful Dead: Portland Memorial Coliseum (5/19/74)

Pointing the compass back to 1974 we have this set, which is getting its maiden spin. One of their tightest years as a live band, the playing was ferocious night after night. This set finds the band still adjusting to the Wall Of Sound, and is pretty tight. But where are the vocals? They are barely echoes, most of the time, which i guess is fine because Jerry keeps forgetting the words anyway. (Edit: they come back and then are super loud, ha). The mix on this recording is brutal (at least in the first set…we’ll see if it improves). Not sure why they picked this one to put out as the pricey box set, except that there are some legendary jams (and one of only three performances of Weir’s folly, “Money Money”). Then again, all of their music is precious so it is most welcome addition to the collection.

Buddy Holly: The Great Buddy Holly

 

One of my record digging rules is that anytime I see a Buddy Holly set that I don’t already have, and it’s less than $10, I buy it. So I snagged this today and so much of this is either songs I have never heard or unfamiliar versions. As with Hendrix, every piece of tape we can preserve of Buddy Holly is worthwhile, and pretty much every collection will be fantastic (Buddy never recorded a bad song, but managed to commit a shitload of music to tape in such a short time). 

Five bucks so very well spent.

Metric: Grow Up And Blow Away (rec. 2001 / rel. 2007)

 

Finally snagged a copy of Grow Up And Blow Away, which completes my Metric studio album collection. This was the first album that Metric recorded, though this was not released until after their second album. The band on display here is young, and just figuring out their identity. Even at this early stage, this is instantly recognizable as Metric and, just like everything else they’ve done, this is fantastic.

Grateful Dead: Aoxomoxoa (original mix) (1969)

 

This has long been one of my three favorite GD albums but today is the day that an original copy of the 1969 mix finally enters my collection, and my ears for the very first time. I can’t believe it’s taken until now to make that happen. 

In 1971, to appease their label and appeal to new fans, Jerry & Phil created new mixes for both Anthem Of Sun and Aoxomoxoa. The former was not that drastic but the latter, it’s like a totally different album. I had always heard about this original version of the album but I had no idea how different the two are. The songs are the same but the instrumentation is stunning. This mix is super dense, and there are so many elements that were stripped, or downplayed at least, in the 1971 remix, but then also several areas where it’s clear that parts were redone for that mix, especially the vocals (Jerry’s vocal on “Dupree’s Diamond Blues” is a hoot). There is a lot going on, much of the time; much more psychedelic than the ‘71 mix. 

There are times where this difference is jarring. Like, holy hell, the choir on “Mountains Of The Moon”?! It totally changes the vibe of that song. And then “What’s Become Of The Baby” is like a totally different song (you can make out the words!! and there’s instrumentation on it??!) and it’s ten times as fucked. 

The way the various elements swirl and swell, this version of Aoxomoxoa is quite unsettling at times. But you really get to hear everything that went into this album, and all the descriptions I’ve read all make a lot more sense now. While I may always prefer the remix, for both aesthetic and nostalgic reasons, I have great respect for the artistry of this version and I will be spending a lot of time with this.

The Monkees: Pool It! (1987)

 

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For some reason, “She’s Movin’ In With Rico” just popped into my head, where it had been hiding for about 35 years, so I figured I would give this little nugget a spin. Pool It! was a totally contrived 1987 reunion album where the Monkees updated their brand by lending their vocals to a collection of slick, safe, shiny pop songs that were written and performed behind the scenes. It does what it intends to do and there certainly are some decent moments here but mostly, this is plastic. It could be anyone singing these songs (except for Peter Tork’s lone original, “Gettin’ In”, which is the best thing on here). It pretty much all sounds like it should be in some cheesy ‘80s, USA Up All Night b-movie. This album does take me back though. If not always the songs themselves, but the vibe. All of a sudden I’m 13 and hanging out at the mall, Sam Goody bag in one hand, Orange Julius in the other. I appreciate the throwback even though this album is pretty terrible.

Grateful Dead: Ready Or Not (rec. 1992-1995)

 

While Built To Last was the Dead’s last studio album, it wasn’t intended to be. In the early ’90s, the band began unveiling new songs, all of which became mainstays in the rotation, until the band ended. Over that time, attempts were made to record these songs for a new album but, by this point, there was no way the Dead were going to be able to focus on something like that. And so it went down, that the Grateful Dead ended their run with a “lost” final album. 

There had been several attempts, in the bootleg world, to assemble hypothetical versions of that final album (I have even come up with a couple myself). Finally, in 2019, came this collection. Produced by the band and their master archivist, Dave Lemieux, this is a pretty solid set, and a great postscript to the band’s career. 

Missteps are abound but there are only two things wrong with this album:

1) “Samba In The Rain” is the worst song ever. Pretty much every Deadhead will agree with that.

 

2) there are no Phil songs. He had three new originals (his first in 15 years) and one of them was really good. One of them was decent. And one of them was horrible. The really good one is “Childhood’s End”. That song deserved more attention. The decent one was called “If The Shoe Fits”. It’s a very goofy song but for some reason I have always dug it. Which leaves us with “Wave To The Wind”, one of the most nonsensical and boring songs in the band’s entire catalogue. None of that matters since they are not here (I’m assuming that it has to do with the rift between Phil and the rest of the band…bummer). 

What we do have here, however, is a mostly-fantastic collection of late-period Dead songs that are all as vital as anything else they’ve done. 

That being said, Bob Weir offers up three songs, all of vastly debatable quality. I have grown to dig (or at least appreciate) them in time but, back then, I hated all of them. Especially “Corinna”, which still kinda sucks, but it always led to some amazing jams onstage. This version is not among the best, at least during the song portion, but it works. “Easy Answers”, we always called “Cheesy Answers”, but it has a cool vibe and it sounds like it was a fun song to play. The best one is “Eternity”(mostly due to the Willie Dixon co-write). One of Weir’s darker and more mysterious songs, and one that usually went to some cool places during the jam. 

Vince Welnick delivers two songs, the only originals he brought to the table (both co-written with Robert Hunter). “Way To Go Home” is actually pretty badass. Not fantastic but it was always a fun one, and it’s got that dark & dirty late GD vibe so it’s super cool too. “Samba In The Rain”, however, is just obnoxious and bad. Really bad. It sounds like that one random original song from some poolside band on a low rent cruise ship, and Jerry’s MIDI does it no favors either. Across the board, without a doubt, the worst song ever released under the Grateful Dead name. 

Fortunately that song ends and we are treated to one of the greatest songs ever released under the Grateful Dead name: Jerry’s super pensive, super poignant “So Many Roads”. This song has the power to reduce me to tears, and the version played at the band’s last show never fails to do so. The version here is from 1992, when the song was still relatively new. Honestly, not the best version that I’ve heard, but it still put on the waterworks (especially Jerry’s singing in the outro….kills me). 

Elsewhere, Jerry gives us the bouncy, catchy “Lazy River Road”, which might have been the single, had they actually made that album. It’s a fun one, for sure, in that “Ramble On Rose” sort of way. The album opens with “Liberty”, a song that almost exclusively resided in the encore slot. Definitely one that would get us headed to the gate early. As an opener, however, this song soars and could also have been a single (perspective is a funny thing). 

Closing the album, however, is Jerry’s pièce de résistance: “Days Between”. 

This was the final song written by Garcia/Hunter and it really feels like it too, almost like they knew (despite writing it more than two years before the end). This song is basically an ode to life - birth, death, and all the days between those points. This is all set to a very haunting, almost ghostly musical arrangement, and is a song that led to (and, often, out of) some phenomenal jams. One of Garcia’s all time greatest offerings. 

Who knows how the final album would have turned out. Maybe more songs would have cycled in by that point, pushing out the bad ones. Surely there would have been a Phil song, at least one of the three (I recall him mentioning a fourth one, called “Red”, but it never appeared). Perhaps they would have hired an outside producer (like Daniel Lanois, Bob Ezrin, or maybe even Rick Rubin) and made a really killer LP. 

Then again, just like Europe ‘72, maybe this material was destined to be presented on a live album. Despite being released 25 years too late, this set pulls it off. While I feel they could’ve used a few better performances, this offers a pretty clear snapshot of where the Dead were, creatively, at the end of their run.

Grateful Dead: Built To Last (1989)

 

After the massive success of 1987’s In The Dark, the band capitalized on their wave…by taking the opposite approach, from all sides, on what turned out to be their final LP. The result is an album that I happen to hold very dear, but one that often appears on worst-album-ever lists. 

For starters, rather than record the album as a band, as they did before, they chose to completely track every instrument separately, from the ground up, with each player reacting on their own, to whatever was already on tape. More like architecture than a jam. This is a very interesting approach for a band like the Dead, and a most democratic one, but it also can lead to sterility, and Built To Last is definitely guilty of that (it was 1989, after all). That said, it gives this album a distinct mood and, while mine is not a popular opinion, I really love this album. 

When this came out, I was still the most casual of listeners, usually drawn in by interesting packaging more than anything else. I came across an edition of Built To Last called “Dead In A Deck” that came in a box that looked like a giant deck of cards, and it actually came with a deck of GD playing cards (wish I still had ‘em). I thought the album was okay…I bought this on the same day that Presto by Rush came out and that’s the album that got the most play…but I dug this one. 

In retrospect, this is a far weirder album than it’s known for being. There is some really dark music here, from Phil’s spooky bass on Brent Mydland’s greatest-ever song (“Just A Little Light”) or Weir’s edgy “Victim Or The Crime” (one of his most underrated) and his mildly bombastic rocker, “Picasso Moon” (this song totally rocks but wtf is this one about). 

But then Garcia offers up “Foolish Heart”, one of his poppiest songs ever (yet also one that turned into a badass live tune), and gets super pensive on the beautiful title track, as well as the melancholy “Standing On The Moon”. Through most of this album, Jerry’s guitar tone takes on this distant, robotic timbre that he was messing around with at the time, and that has a lot to do with the mood of this album. Some people don’t like it but I do. It’s some pretty spooky shit. Also, his playing is totally on point throughout, with some of his best solos on a studio album. 

Mydland offers up three songs (four on the CD and tape), his most prolific moment in the band. Aside from the phenomenal “Just A Little Light”, we have “Blow Away”, which may tread a bit close to Richard Marx territory but is actually an incredible song that was a fantastic live tune. Jerry’s solo at the end of this is one of his best to grace a studio album. 

Closing out the program is the lullaby-esque “I Will Take You Home” which was not really a good song….until Brent died, at which point this song became a gut-wrencher. Listen to this song while looking at the photo of Brent playing onstage with his daughter looking up adoringly (from Without A Net) and even though you know this song sucks you will bawl your eyes out. 

Not on the vinyl, but on all other formats (and the b-side of the “Foolish Heart” single) is a fourth Brent song, “We Can Run”. A pretty cheesy lyric from Barlow but a nice, environmentally conscious sentiment, and pretty decent music to boot.  Sadly, this would be Brent’s final offering, as he died the following year. 

In fact, this would be the entire band’s last studio offering. Despite entering the mid-‘90s with a double album’s worth of new material, they just never could get it together to finish anything in the studio before Garcia died. Too bad. They had some great songs (and a few not-so-great ones too). Jerry’s offerings, in particular, were spectacular. We’ll get to that soon. 

Of course, the Grateful Dead is not a band whose career is measured by albums, so it doesn’t really matter that this was their last album, only that there weren’t any more. 

It’s been fun revisiting all of these albums, many of which were finally just now being acquired on vinyl (including this one - the songs are in a completely different order and it kinda freaked me out). I look forward to spinning more live sets but I will revisit these often.