Something or other got me thinking today about Yes \u2013 the art-rock band that had its fame and glory in the early 1970s (Yes is still around in one incarnation or another, playing at state fairs and local art centers). I was specifically thinking about the opening routine Yes used in concert back in the early 70s, which was captured perfectly on their first live album, Yessongs. I was hearing it all in my head this morning, and remembering the time or two that I myself experienced a Yes show back in my youth.<\/p>\n
Ah yes, Madison Square Garden in New York. The opening act started at 8, but was mostly just a distraction. They got off stage around a quarter to nine, and everyone in the seats got restless. Then just before 9, the lights went out, the arena went dark \u2013 and you could feel electricity pulsing thru the crowd. You could see hundreds of yellow light spots amidst the crowd \u2013 young people toking up. And then, very quietly at first, you heard the opening notes of the lead-in theme song. That was a recording of the finale to Stravinsky’s Theme From Firebird Suite<\/strong>. <\/p>\n The Firebird went on, resonating in the darkness for another 2 or 3 minutes, growing in volume and intensity. On the dark stage, if you looked closely, you could tell that a set of musicians were getting ready. It was Yes. The crowd started cheering, as Firebird reached its pompous crescendo and then trailed off. Suddenly, a single stage light was shining on keyboardist Rick Wakeman, who took over with a 30 second slow dirge. And then, POW. All the lights came on as lead guitarist Steve Howe blasted out the opening chords and started plucking the leit motif of the opening song, Siberian Khatru<\/strong>. And then everyone else in the band joined in, leading to Jon Anderson’s semi-falsetto vocals. And the main event was under way, with 19,500 or so other Yes fans happily cheering.<\/p>\n Ah, sweet memories. But I look back on it now and wonder, was it really worth remembering? In reality, it was a capitalist endeavor. Someone was making a bunch of money entertaining spoiled suburban Baby Boomer youth. The band was trying to be artistic, even poetic and mystical. Jon Anderson’s lyrics were often \u201cimpressionistic\u201d, especially in Siberian Khatru. As one reviewer<\/a> on the web said, Khatru is “Impressionistic and not literal. One of the greatest songs about nothing ever written. Totally impressionist work that only succeeds if you don’t think about it and just feel it.\u201d Especially, I might add, if you were high on some intoxicating substance (which I generally wasn’t; I never got into pot or anything worse than beer and an occasional mixed drink). <\/p>\n Here are a few lines from Khatru, just to give you the feel of a classic Yes tune:<\/p>\n Sing, bird of prey; beauty begins at the foot of you – I’m looking back introspectively from 35 years later. I wonder what a historian looking back from 350 years in the future would make of a big Yes concert (back when Yes could fill a big venue like MSG; now they appear at much smaller venues, and a new generation of performers uses Madison to entertain their fans, including the dreaded Lady Gaga). As I said, it was capitalist in a big way. It used an incredible amount of carbon-based energy and required cutting-edge technology (cutting edge in 1972, anyway). It made a lot of young people feel good about Mother Earth and nature and art, giving them the impression of a new and better world evolving. But in reality, it was the same old world they inherited from their parents. Ah, to be young and self-deluded again.<\/p>\n But then again, no one got hurt. An historian might compare an art-rock concert to the big public events in Rome during the Empire. Plenty of stimulation and titillation for the masses, but no gladiators or Christians were going to the lions. <\/p>\n
\nDo you believe the manner?
\nRiver running right on over my head.
\nWarm side, the tower; Green leaves reveal the heart spoken Khatru.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n