Forgotten Yesterdays
Winter 1984 North American Tour |
Setlist Overview |
Videos |
Yes - "The Making Of Leave It" Part 1/2 | Yes - "The Making Of Leave It" Part 2/2 | Yes - National Radio Press Conference [90125 Tour Promo - 9/2/1983] | YES 9012LIVE Entrevistas - Subtítulos en español |
Tourbooks | Total: 1 |
 North America Tourbook |
Memorablilia | Total: 40 |
Reviews |
Friday, May 2, 2014 5:16 AM
March 17th, 2007:
OK folks... you asked:
I have been thinking about my hesitation in answering in detail about my time with Yes, and have concluded that a full explanation would be incomplete without some understanding of the social background of the London music scene in the "70s and "80s. To give a thorough and honest answer, I would have to get into some very personal recollections and history and I have decided that too many personal details, especially of others, would serve nobody well. So, after 23 years of silence on the matter, here is a somewhat abridged version:
I remember, around 1974 and still a fairly fresh teenage transplant to the South, observing there to be quite a self-congratulatory social club (of which I was not a member) of successful musicians, moneyed hoorays and fashionistas occupying the trendy upper-end London social tier. They drove Bentleys and Aston Martins, lived in very large houses in Surrey (or trendy apartments within a stone's throw of Knightsbridge or Chelsea), belonged to the same charities, and met one another for lengthy alcohol-soaked lunches and dinners at London's most tony restaurants and private clubs. A small subset of this crowd was a sorority of "group wives' who spent large amounts of their husbands' money shopping on the Kings Road and who effervesced at sharing a charity event with Princess Fergie or being invited to a garden party at McCartney's mansion.
As a young musician, this social environment formed much of the elite backdrop to the world of the successful "art' bands (Roxy, Genesis, Floyd, Yes, etc) and I remember vividly,even as Roxy were at the top of their game and at the top of the charts,a strong sense of estrangement from this self-impressed and moneyed social clique. As naïve as it may have been, I really was in it for the music.
However, my Roxy association did allow me some lesser place in the club, and my talent gave rise to many requests for my musical participation, including one call, in 1974, to assess my interest in replacing the newly departed Rick Wakeman in Yes. My impression of Yes was that they were a musically very impressive (and of course, extremely successful) band, but that they, too, were hugely impressed with their own status and were living on a lavishly grand scale. There also was that hippie/cosmic/druggie side that I knew would likely make it even harder for me to connect with them socially. For several years, I had seen Chris Squire showily driving around town in his huge and very distinctive maroon Bentley like some aristocratic Lord, and it seemed obvious that, as dismissively as Roxy and their camarilla were treating me, the Yes milieu would be even more unfriendly to this Northern teenager so I boldly conveyed my "lack of interest' in the Yes gig (in actual fact, I was somewhat excited by the concept of playing with Yes at their peak, but my instincts told me this would be an unwelcoming situation).
Fast forward almost six year! I had extricated myself from that disturbingly self-important London scene completely, from EG Management and Sun Artists (Yes' management,who co-managed "UK') and had happily relocated to the U.S., permanently removing myself from what I found to be an uncharitable world of supercilious people and expensive drug habits. Around the same time, I also disbanded U.K.,as part of the same purge. It was a fresh start, and the Green Album would be my solo venture as an independent free-spirit, surrounded by new friends,dare I say "all good people,' with similar values to mine.
However, in early 1983, toward the end of the Green Album period, I received a call from an executive with Atlantic Records who was with Chris Squire and his new band Cinema in London. Despite my complete lack of interest in joining Squire's new band, the phone conversation went on for several hours as he virtually begged me to participate on their new album (the record that would become 90215) . This time my "lack of interest' was real, I literally had zero enthusiasm for being in Squire's band back in London. So original Yes keyboardist Tony Kaye was invited in for the album recording (which also apparently didn't work out either, as he departed at the producer's request after a very short period, leaving the keyboard duties to the production team.)
Later that year, with the Green Album finally completed, I happened to be visiting London as part of a promotional tour when I received a message (in the U.S.) that "Cinema' was now "Yes,' Jon Anderson had joined the band again, and that the album had come out really well. Oh, and they still needed a keyboard player... When they found out I was actually in London, new boy Trevor Rabin arranged to come round to play me the finished album. Trevor Horn (my favourite producer at the time) had done a fantastic job. All in all, though musically a little superficial, it was a fresh and contemporary recording, and with the "Yes' name, a potential hit song (Owner of a Lonely Heart), Atlantic Records, and a well-funded support team behind it, it was clearly destined for considerably more commercial success than my struggling Green Album. With unlimited amounts of money flying around, my living in Connecticut was no problem; Jon was living in France, and Rabin and the new manager were living in Los Angeles. After all these years, maybe it was time for me to finally join Yes?
A couple of days later, we got together in a rehearsal room and thrashed through a few tunes, including "Roundabout' (actually not knowing the song too well, I had to figure out Rick's tricky keyboard parts on the spot no easy task). But everyone seemed happy, so I returned to the U.S. as a full member of Yes and with a world tour only two or three months away. There was virtually no contact with anyone for several weeks as I learned all the Yes material in my home studio, although I did attend the mastering of the album with Rabin in New York. In fact, now I think about it, not one single band member ever called me, for any reason, during my entire stint with the group (or since).
The illusion of "equal membership' soon became apparently false, especially once the filming of the "Owner of a Lonely Heart video took place. Lord Squire's indulgences (and the ubiquitous Bentley) were back in my face, and money was being squandered at an alarming rate. It was time-warp back to the 1970s. Roadies followed you around making sure you never had to lift even the smallest bag, and Chris was insisting on a private Boeing 707 for the tour! The grand lifestyle was being funded once again and egos were newly inflated. Despite my considerable experiences with Roxy, Zappa, UK, and Tull (a wonderful group of guys who treated me with considerable respect), and with more than 30 albums and a self-managed solo career under my belt, no one was interested in any wisdom I may have been able to impart, on any subject" even on the keyboard rig design which had already been decided upon. It was an inflated "Spinal Tap' on so many levels, and I had unwittingly been sucked back into almost the same world of disregard that I had rejected so many years earlier. But I had made a commitment and I wanted to see it through.
Several weeks later, back in the U.S. where I continued to work on the considerable Yes repertoire, I did finally receive a phone call from someone,it was the manager who had been given the unceremonious task of informing me that Tony Kaye was re-joining the group and would be sharing keyboard duties with me. No discussion, no conferring a done deal. And the reason? They needed three original members to put to rest a dispute with Brian Lane (their old manager), Steve Howe and Rick Wakeman regarding the legitimacy of the new band using the "Yes' name. My youthful instincts were reawakened, there were red flags waving, and sirens going off... why was I doing this exactly? Still no call from anyone in the band, no discussions of alternate remedies, no apologies, just take it or leave it so I hearkened to the words of their own song and chose to "leave it.'
Of course, the album and world tour went on to enormous success; Tony Kaye's playing was supplemented by another player hidden off-stage; and the embarrassingly lame video had to be edited at the insistence of the BBC (to remove the disgusting "maggot' scene), during which time they also removed as many of my scenes as possible.
Thanks, guys. All in all, the most disrespectful and unpleasant of all my band experiences (as brief as it was), and, with the occasional derisive remark from Squire or Allan White still showing up on the internet, one that still causes me undeserved anguish, embarrassment, and regret.
Post-script 1: The above description of the smug coterie that made up much of the British music-business elite in the "70s and "80s also serves the purpose of explaining much of the ill-feeling left percolating in the memories of more than a few of us more music-focused professionals. It also explains, in some part, the continuingly rude behaviour of some of that scene's most indulgent subscribers (not mentioning any particular Arschlock by name, of course). It is ironic that those most included in that most exclusionary clique, now seem to be the most embittered and malicious.
Post-script 2: Some might ask why I would have a Yes page on the website. My answer is that I don't have a category for "Bands I Didn't Join and Should Have' or for "Bands I Did Join and Shouldn't Have.' It was not a Guest Appearance; I was a member; there is a long history of connectivity (from Bruford to Asia); I am still in the video; I have pictures; it is part of my story.
Post-script 3: Jon Anderson has always been friendly, welcoming and respectful. His only culpability in this hurtful episode was in being so passive.
OK folks... you asked:
I have been thinking about my hesitation in answering in detail about my time with Yes, and have concluded that a full explanation would be incomplete without some understanding of the social background of the London music scene in the "70s and "80s. To give a thorough and honest answer, I would have to get into some very personal recollections and history and I have decided that too many personal details, especially of others, would serve nobody well. So, after 23 years of silence on the matter, here is a somewhat abridged version:
I remember, around 1974 and still a fairly fresh teenage transplant to the South, observing there to be quite a self-congratulatory social club (of which I was not a member) of successful musicians, moneyed hoorays and fashionistas occupying the trendy upper-end London social tier. They drove Bentleys and Aston Martins, lived in very large houses in Surrey (or trendy apartments within a stone's throw of Knightsbridge or Chelsea), belonged to the same charities, and met one another for lengthy alcohol-soaked lunches and dinners at London's most tony restaurants and private clubs. A small subset of this crowd was a sorority of "group wives' who spent large amounts of their husbands' money shopping on the Kings Road and who effervesced at sharing a charity event with Princess Fergie or being invited to a garden party at McCartney's mansion.
As a young musician, this social environment formed much of the elite backdrop to the world of the successful "art' bands (Roxy, Genesis, Floyd, Yes, etc) and I remember vividly,even as Roxy were at the top of their game and at the top of the charts,a strong sense of estrangement from this self-impressed and moneyed social clique. As naïve as it may have been, I really was in it for the music.
However, my Roxy association did allow me some lesser place in the club, and my talent gave rise to many requests for my musical participation, including one call, in 1974, to assess my interest in replacing the newly departed Rick Wakeman in Yes. My impression of Yes was that they were a musically very impressive (and of course, extremely successful) band, but that they, too, were hugely impressed with their own status and were living on a lavishly grand scale. There also was that hippie/cosmic/druggie side that I knew would likely make it even harder for me to connect with them socially. For several years, I had seen Chris Squire showily driving around town in his huge and very distinctive maroon Bentley like some aristocratic Lord, and it seemed obvious that, as dismissively as Roxy and their camarilla were treating me, the Yes milieu would be even more unfriendly to this Northern teenager so I boldly conveyed my "lack of interest' in the Yes gig (in actual fact, I was somewhat excited by the concept of playing with Yes at their peak, but my instincts told me this would be an unwelcoming situation).
Fast forward almost six year! I had extricated myself from that disturbingly self-important London scene completely, from EG Management and Sun Artists (Yes' management,who co-managed "UK') and had happily relocated to the U.S., permanently removing myself from what I found to be an uncharitable world of supercilious people and expensive drug habits. Around the same time, I also disbanded U.K.,as part of the same purge. It was a fresh start, and the Green Album would be my solo venture as an independent free-spirit, surrounded by new friends,dare I say "all good people,' with similar values to mine.
However, in early 1983, toward the end of the Green Album period, I received a call from an executive with Atlantic Records who was with Chris Squire and his new band Cinema in London. Despite my complete lack of interest in joining Squire's new band, the phone conversation went on for several hours as he virtually begged me to participate on their new album (the record that would become 90215) . This time my "lack of interest' was real, I literally had zero enthusiasm for being in Squire's band back in London. So original Yes keyboardist Tony Kaye was invited in for the album recording (which also apparently didn't work out either, as he departed at the producer's request after a very short period, leaving the keyboard duties to the production team.)
Later that year, with the Green Album finally completed, I happened to be visiting London as part of a promotional tour when I received a message (in the U.S.) that "Cinema' was now "Yes,' Jon Anderson had joined the band again, and that the album had come out really well. Oh, and they still needed a keyboard player... When they found out I was actually in London, new boy Trevor Rabin arranged to come round to play me the finished album. Trevor Horn (my favourite producer at the time) had done a fantastic job. All in all, though musically a little superficial, it was a fresh and contemporary recording, and with the "Yes' name, a potential hit song (Owner of a Lonely Heart), Atlantic Records, and a well-funded support team behind it, it was clearly destined for considerably more commercial success than my struggling Green Album. With unlimited amounts of money flying around, my living in Connecticut was no problem; Jon was living in France, and Rabin and the new manager were living in Los Angeles. After all these years, maybe it was time for me to finally join Yes?
A couple of days later, we got together in a rehearsal room and thrashed through a few tunes, including "Roundabout' (actually not knowing the song too well, I had to figure out Rick's tricky keyboard parts on the spot no easy task). But everyone seemed happy, so I returned to the U.S. as a full member of Yes and with a world tour only two or three months away. There was virtually no contact with anyone for several weeks as I learned all the Yes material in my home studio, although I did attend the mastering of the album with Rabin in New York. In fact, now I think about it, not one single band member ever called me, for any reason, during my entire stint with the group (or since).
The illusion of "equal membership' soon became apparently false, especially once the filming of the "Owner of a Lonely Heart video took place. Lord Squire's indulgences (and the ubiquitous Bentley) were back in my face, and money was being squandered at an alarming rate. It was time-warp back to the 1970s. Roadies followed you around making sure you never had to lift even the smallest bag, and Chris was insisting on a private Boeing 707 for the tour! The grand lifestyle was being funded once again and egos were newly inflated. Despite my considerable experiences with Roxy, Zappa, UK, and Tull (a wonderful group of guys who treated me with considerable respect), and with more than 30 albums and a self-managed solo career under my belt, no one was interested in any wisdom I may have been able to impart, on any subject" even on the keyboard rig design which had already been decided upon. It was an inflated "Spinal Tap' on so many levels, and I had unwittingly been sucked back into almost the same world of disregard that I had rejected so many years earlier. But I had made a commitment and I wanted to see it through.
Several weeks later, back in the U.S. where I continued to work on the considerable Yes repertoire, I did finally receive a phone call from someone,it was the manager who had been given the unceremonious task of informing me that Tony Kaye was re-joining the group and would be sharing keyboard duties with me. No discussion, no conferring a done deal. And the reason? They needed three original members to put to rest a dispute with Brian Lane (their old manager), Steve Howe and Rick Wakeman regarding the legitimacy of the new band using the "Yes' name. My youthful instincts were reawakened, there were red flags waving, and sirens going off... why was I doing this exactly? Still no call from anyone in the band, no discussions of alternate remedies, no apologies, just take it or leave it so I hearkened to the words of their own song and chose to "leave it.'
Of course, the album and world tour went on to enormous success; Tony Kaye's playing was supplemented by another player hidden off-stage; and the embarrassingly lame video had to be edited at the insistence of the BBC (to remove the disgusting "maggot' scene), during which time they also removed as many of my scenes as possible.
Thanks, guys. All in all, the most disrespectful and unpleasant of all my band experiences (as brief as it was), and, with the occasional derisive remark from Squire or Allan White still showing up on the internet, one that still causes me undeserved anguish, embarrassment, and regret.
Post-script 1: The above description of the smug coterie that made up much of the British music-business elite in the "70s and "80s also serves the purpose of explaining much of the ill-feeling left percolating in the memories of more than a few of us more music-focused professionals. It also explains, in some part, the continuingly rude behaviour of some of that scene's most indulgent subscribers (not mentioning any particular Arschlock by name, of course). It is ironic that those most included in that most exclusionary clique, now seem to be the most embittered and malicious.
Post-script 2: Some might ask why I would have a Yes page on the website. My answer is that I don't have a category for "Bands I Didn't Join and Should Have' or for "Bands I Did Join and Shouldn't Have.' It was not a Guest Appearance; I was a member; there is a long history of connectivity (from Bruford to Asia); I am still in the video; I have pictures; it is part of my story.
Post-script 3: Jon Anderson has always been friendly, welcoming and respectful. His only culpability in this hurtful episode was in being so passive.
Michael DeMichele:
Well for some reason I put on the 90125 disc today and it brought my mind back to the tour which I loved so much I saw 2x. The first was close to the oppening at the Philadrlphia Spectrum,then again in Hershey Pa. I remember the music was great and being one of my first concerts-I compareed all future concerts to these. Ok -so I've now seen some 100-150 major shows and these are still my favorite. Rush does stay close, but 90125 in the Spectrum was still the best ever.
James Tull:
I just want to state for the record, that there WAS a tour program for the 90125 tour. I purchased mine at Kansas City's Kemper Arena show on Monday, March 12, 1984. I am looking at it now. It is just as many other posts have described.
I imagine it is possible that certain venues did not have them available (or only in very small quantities). I remember getting to the arena early so that my friend and I could make sure we were in our seats before showtime (no opening act...Bugs Bunny cartoons!) I made my t-shirt and program purchase as soon as we were inside. Subsequently, before and just after the show, I did have several people ask where I bought mine. Another post I've read here would support the theory that, while they did have the guides for sale at this show, they sold out rather quickly.
I hope this is helpful!
I imagine it is possible that certain venues did not have them available (or only in very small quantities). I remember getting to the arena early so that my friend and I could make sure we were in our seats before showtime (no opening act...Bugs Bunny cartoons!) I made my t-shirt and program purchase as soon as we were inside. Subsequently, before and just after the show, I did have several people ask where I bought mine. Another post I've read here would support the theory that, while they did have the guides for sale at this show, they sold out rather quickly.
I hope this is helpful!
pat crowe:
I have seen this band four times. Tormato, the first the best,Reunion also in the round, 90U812 the absoloute worst and orchestral,all in Vancouver. Chris is the most talented, entertaining bassplayer in the biz but why does the band continue to allow him to dress himself, hey Chris how bout high top sneakers with springs on them to really go over the edge? Jon quit displacing excited first rowers with your groupie and never ever cross your arms again, if i can whisper to my wife next to me so as not to bother the people behind, and she can hear me no problem, than i will have to keep the money in my jeans for the dvd and rock out with my alltime favourite band at home.Never quit, keep it loud and tight, don,t tour without Rick,in the round is alchemy....next tour how bout starting with another bands cover, saaay hows about The Musical Box.
Gary Brown:
Yes - Things better for Yes the second time around
The Asbury Park Press - Jan 1984
The Associated Press
Mary Campbell
NEW YORK - They were a cult group of the last decade, holding the official record for the act that played Madison Square Garden the most - 16 times.
Today, the British rock group, Yes, after trying another name, has regrouped, taken back its old name and started the year with its biggest selling LP ever and its first hit single.
"Yes never actually had a hit single," says bassist Chris Squire, an original Yes member in 1968. "The single, 'Roundabout,' from the 'Fragile' album in the early 1970s has been constantly played on radio. But it never really was a very big hit in the charts."
The group's Atco Records LP, "90125," is its first in three years. It was No. 11 and climbing on the best-selling record charts as 1984 began. The first single released from it, "Owner of a Lonely Heart," was No. 4 and climbing.
"There was tension in some phases of making the album," Squire said. "We were all trying to pull the best out of each other to create the thing. I think probably getting back together is usually a panic situation."
Yes will start a 50 or 60-show tour in Cleveland Feb 6 that will keep the British group in the United States for about three months.
In the beginning, Yes was known for the classical influences in it rock. It's still there.
"We always lean toward the more arty side of it," Squire says.
Yes started in 1968 with vocalist Jon Anderson, Squire, Keyboardist Tony Kaye, guitarist Peter Banks and drummer Bill Bruford. Rick Wakeman replaced Kaye in 1971, was replaced by Patrick Moraz in 1973. Wakeman replace Moraz in 1976.
Anderson and Wakeman had left the group, and been replaced, by the time the LP, "Drama," was made in 1980.
"That band was supposed to go on to make another album. There were internal problems," Squire said. "We decided we should just have a break."
"Yes had been very heavily toured and we'd made at least a dozen albums in the 1970s. We were working all the time. I personally sensed a little bit of the edge was going on the creative level, toward the end of that time."
Squire says he spent 1981 doing not much work, spending time with his family, which includes three daughters.
"Alan White, the drummer, and I kind of stuck together at that time, " he said. They worked together writing music and recorded a Christmas single, "Run with the Fox."
Eventually they had to decide if they should remain a double act or put a band back together.
"We decided to get involved with other musicians again," Squire said. "We were introduced to Trevor Rabin, our new guitarist. We got on well with him. I got Tony Kaye, who was our original keyboard player, to come back. I saw there would be a very good compatible style between Trevor's and Tony's playing."
They rehearsed, tried different songs and would up calling themselves Cinema. Music Television announced the group.
"About two weeks later, we got a letter from a lawyer in San Francisco saying a group there was already called Cinema," Squire said. "Two weeks later, we got a letter like that from Iowa and then came one from Minneapolis. There was a fourth one, too, all threatening to sue."
They went back to Yes.
Trevor Horn, who had been the singer in the 1980 version of Yes, heard the group and wanted to do an album.
"We though that would be great, too," Squire said. "We laid down tracks for the whole album. The intention was that Trevor Rain and myself would share lead vocals. I've sung harmonies for years and some lead vocals, but it was a daunting prospect."
Anderson joined them. "I'd told him I thought we'd go under another name, sort of a brave new attitude kind of thing," Squire said. "When he sang, it sounded just like Yes. We thought, people are going to think we're stupid if we don't call this Yes."
The rewrote some of the lyrics and made the album.
I'm thrilled about it because we tore the bones apart and put it together again in a way that took a lot of effort," Squire said.
"And that's where we are now." Yes.
The Asbury Park Press - Jan 1984
The Associated Press
Mary Campbell
NEW YORK - They were a cult group of the last decade, holding the official record for the act that played Madison Square Garden the most - 16 times.
Today, the British rock group, Yes, after trying another name, has regrouped, taken back its old name and started the year with its biggest selling LP ever and its first hit single.
"Yes never actually had a hit single," says bassist Chris Squire, an original Yes member in 1968. "The single, 'Roundabout,' from the 'Fragile' album in the early 1970s has been constantly played on radio. But it never really was a very big hit in the charts."
The group's Atco Records LP, "90125," is its first in three years. It was No. 11 and climbing on the best-selling record charts as 1984 began. The first single released from it, "Owner of a Lonely Heart," was No. 4 and climbing.
"There was tension in some phases of making the album," Squire said. "We were all trying to pull the best out of each other to create the thing. I think probably getting back together is usually a panic situation."
Yes will start a 50 or 60-show tour in Cleveland Feb 6 that will keep the British group in the United States for about three months.
In the beginning, Yes was known for the classical influences in it rock. It's still there.
"We always lean toward the more arty side of it," Squire says.
Yes started in 1968 with vocalist Jon Anderson, Squire, Keyboardist Tony Kaye, guitarist Peter Banks and drummer Bill Bruford. Rick Wakeman replaced Kaye in 1971, was replaced by Patrick Moraz in 1973. Wakeman replace Moraz in 1976.
Anderson and Wakeman had left the group, and been replaced, by the time the LP, "Drama," was made in 1980.
"That band was supposed to go on to make another album. There were internal problems," Squire said. "We decided we should just have a break."
"Yes had been very heavily toured and we'd made at least a dozen albums in the 1970s. We were working all the time. I personally sensed a little bit of the edge was going on the creative level, toward the end of that time."
Squire says he spent 1981 doing not much work, spending time with his family, which includes three daughters.
"Alan White, the drummer, and I kind of stuck together at that time, " he said. They worked together writing music and recorded a Christmas single, "Run with the Fox."
Eventually they had to decide if they should remain a double act or put a band back together.
"We decided to get involved with other musicians again," Squire said. "We were introduced to Trevor Rabin, our new guitarist. We got on well with him. I got Tony Kaye, who was our original keyboard player, to come back. I saw there would be a very good compatible style between Trevor's and Tony's playing."
They rehearsed, tried different songs and would up calling themselves Cinema. Music Television announced the group.
"About two weeks later, we got a letter from a lawyer in San Francisco saying a group there was already called Cinema," Squire said. "Two weeks later, we got a letter like that from Iowa and then came one from Minneapolis. There was a fourth one, too, all threatening to sue."
They went back to Yes.
Trevor Horn, who had been the singer in the 1980 version of Yes, heard the group and wanted to do an album.
"We though that would be great, too," Squire said. "We laid down tracks for the whole album. The intention was that Trevor Rain and myself would share lead vocals. I've sung harmonies for years and some lead vocals, but it was a daunting prospect."
Anderson joined them. "I'd told him I thought we'd go under another name, sort of a brave new attitude kind of thing," Squire said. "When he sang, it sounded just like Yes. We thought, people are going to think we're stupid if we don't call this Yes."
The rewrote some of the lyrics and made the album.
I'm thrilled about it because we tore the bones apart and put it together again in a way that took a lot of effort," Squire said.
"And that's where we are now." Yes.
Joe Prisco:
I bought my tourbook at the March 30th show, so they were evidently available as early as that. Mine is as Michel Forest describes the Montreal edition, and contains the same spurious quotes listed below. A friend of mine had a thick book of the band's personal history which I dearly wish I could find; it was issued about 1981 and is similar in size and thickness to the book of YES music issued about that time. Much more informative than the capsule sound-butes offered in the program ....
Christopher Currie:
It still strikes me as odd that the band would have needed backstage help on the _90125_ material, I admit. It's been clarified that "Casey" played lead through one side of the channel, while Kaye played lead the other side and the centre zone. It's never been clarified why this was deemed necessary, and suspicions about Kaye's basic abilities by 1983 can't help but surface accordingly.
J.D. Mack:
"Leave It" was hardly live on this tour. I think Jon and Trevor's lead vocals were the only parts performed live. Everything else is backing tracks. Just compare any two bootlegs or KBFH shows, and you'll notice how similar the erformances are. I think the fact that Tony Kaye sang on that song in concert, and the fact that there are more than five vocal parts are sufficient evidence.
Michel Forest:
The 90125 tour DID have a tourbook (I saw two contradictory posts about it). I used to have it (it's lost now). It wasn't much really, the usual photos + bios of the band members, some ads for the back catalogue and for Sparkomatic car sounds. The cover was the same as the cover for the *9012live* LP. The pictures were clearly taken during the first leg of the tour. I guess it was available during the second leg of the tour. I bought mine in Montreal in August 1984.
Chris West:
I didn't understand the comment about there being no tour programme for the 90125 tour, because I've got one. It contains some classic Yes rewriting of history (Tony left the group [in 1971] "for personal reasons, I don't properly remember now", Jon - "I never left Yes - I just took a leave of absence") and some downright inaccuracies (Alan joined after their third album). Maybe it wasn't ready for the American leg of the tour. I got it from the British tour.
There's nothing much else apart from tour credits, a couple of sentences about each band member and the obligatory ads for the new album and the back catalogue. I can't remember what I paid for it but I'm sure I was ripped off!
There's nothing much else apart from tour credits, a couple of sentences about each band member and the obligatory ads for the new album and the back catalogue. I can't remember what I paid for it but I'm sure I was ripped off!
David Larson:
The 90125 tour didn't have a tour book -- Sparkomatic gave out quad-fold which on the first two pages had a photo and some Yes propaganda, and on the full four-page poster inside had a Sparkomatic ad.
Yesman Lee:
BAM
June 1, 1984
Half of the Yes 1984 tour show was the new album, and half old Yes classics like "Yours Is No Disgrace," "I've Seen All Good People," "And You And I," "Roundabout," and "Starship Trooper." "We picked the good old songs, and we try to do them as today as possible. The new stuff is more snappy and maybe popy and shorter." [Anderson]
Shorter for Yes means they're finally getting them down to five or six minutes.
"Well, not exactly three minutes," Kaye says. "We even extend 'Owner Of A Lonely Heart' onstage, in the Yes tradition."
When Kaye was with the original Yes band in the late '60s, he relied mainly on one keyboard the organ. Today with Yes he works with one of the most sophisticated keyboard setups touring. "I use basically two systems," he says. "A lot of the Fairlight stuff that was done on the album is being played on a Yamaha DX-7. We have what we call the Oberheim system, and the Yamaha system. They are MIDI interfaced with a lot of other keyboards that are backstage. You only see two keyboards onstage, but they're driving a lot of different synthesizers. And a mixture of analog and digital synthesizers mixed together so that we've got quite a different sound, really. And I'm using Emulator, Kawai grand piano, and a Korg hammond, a Korg organ. The synthesizers are programmed so we've got multi-layered multi-tracked sounds. So it's given us a lot of scope, and we can put all kinds of different sounds in so that you don't get that really kind of boring synthesizer sound that doesn't really please me too much."
If you listen closely to "Owner of a Lonely Heart", you may realize that what sounds like horn punches are actually vocalist Jon Anderson. "We put the voice through a kind of electronic gadget which makes it sound like a trumpet," says the singer. "The voice is a very capable instrument. It can do a lot of things. These days you can get the kind of effect that makes it sound like a double bass. You sing into it, and all of a sudden you don't know if it's you or the double bass. "
Trevor Rabin plays a normal Fender Stratocaster with a DiMarzio pickup. "I also have a pedalboard built by Pete Cornish of London, who's excellent," Rabin says. "He has buffer amplifiers between each stage. It's mostly MXR equipment in there. Then I have a rack backstage with various effects an MXR reverb unit, delay unit and pitch transposer. That's basically it, and then that goes through a Marshall 50. That's what is miked up and that's what I monitor from. On Chris' side of the stage, his guitar monitor, we have a Marshall 100 which is slaved to where it's a double lead. One goes into my 50, one goes into his 100, and that goes to Chris' side of the stage. So he has a much cleaner sound.
"Chris' pedalboard was made by another guy in London. And it's all programmable, so you can put fuzz, echo and flange on one pedal, go to the next pedal and something else is programmed on that. He goes through a Marshall 100, and I think we're still using Crowns to slave it through. The main thing is, the PA system we have crosses over at 30 cycles on the bass bins, so you've got all this power coming from the bass bins."
Squier, now 35, is the only Yes member to appear on all fifteen of the group's albums, and his trebley, crackling bass sound has long been one of the group's trademark sounds. He is still using a Rickenbacker bass most of the time. He has recently begun playing a couple of numbers with a green custom-made bass that is as outrageous with its body design as the tattered, feathery full-length coat Squier wears during the show.
The 90125 tour is Rabin's first of America. The guitarist, whose boyish good looks bring to mind Paul McCartney, admits to only the slightest bit of nervousness in stepping into the Yes spotlight. "I was curious as to what the reception would be, but my sentiments have been from the beginning on that if there's a couple of guys who really wanted to see Yes as it was, I wasn't going to let that affect me. I get up there and enjoy myself. If people like it, great, if they don't, I've done my best. So far, so good.
"One thing I never wanted to do was just get onstage and play Steve Howe licks," Rabin continues. "I have a Gibson 175 at home, but I certainly wasn't going to go on the road with the Steve Howe guitar. I was going to change the guitar arrangements and put my style into it. Otherwise there would be no point. I'm not interested in filling someone's shoes. And the great thing was that the rest of the band was really into it and said, 'you can change what you like.'
"I've kept some of the Steve Howe licks, I've just put a different sound to them. If the song is written and there's a melody that is essential to the song, why change it for the sake of change? I've changed a lot, but a lot is still there. I try to put a different sound to it. I also play it all on one guitar as opposed to tons of different guitars all night. Steve used to play a 12-string on certain songs. I get that feeling from effects and try to modernize it without having to go to a 12-string. I'm trying to get that effect with a bit extra on it."
June 1, 1984
Half of the Yes 1984 tour show was the new album, and half old Yes classics like "Yours Is No Disgrace," "I've Seen All Good People," "And You And I," "Roundabout," and "Starship Trooper." "We picked the good old songs, and we try to do them as today as possible. The new stuff is more snappy and maybe popy and shorter." [Anderson]
Shorter for Yes means they're finally getting them down to five or six minutes.
"Well, not exactly three minutes," Kaye says. "We even extend 'Owner Of A Lonely Heart' onstage, in the Yes tradition."
When Kaye was with the original Yes band in the late '60s, he relied mainly on one keyboard the organ. Today with Yes he works with one of the most sophisticated keyboard setups touring. "I use basically two systems," he says. "A lot of the Fairlight stuff that was done on the album is being played on a Yamaha DX-7. We have what we call the Oberheim system, and the Yamaha system. They are MIDI interfaced with a lot of other keyboards that are backstage. You only see two keyboards onstage, but they're driving a lot of different synthesizers. And a mixture of analog and digital synthesizers mixed together so that we've got quite a different sound, really. And I'm using Emulator, Kawai grand piano, and a Korg hammond, a Korg organ. The synthesizers are programmed so we've got multi-layered multi-tracked sounds. So it's given us a lot of scope, and we can put all kinds of different sounds in so that you don't get that really kind of boring synthesizer sound that doesn't really please me too much."
If you listen closely to "Owner of a Lonely Heart", you may realize that what sounds like horn punches are actually vocalist Jon Anderson. "We put the voice through a kind of electronic gadget which makes it sound like a trumpet," says the singer. "The voice is a very capable instrument. It can do a lot of things. These days you can get the kind of effect that makes it sound like a double bass. You sing into it, and all of a sudden you don't know if it's you or the double bass. "
Trevor Rabin plays a normal Fender Stratocaster with a DiMarzio pickup. "I also have a pedalboard built by Pete Cornish of London, who's excellent," Rabin says. "He has buffer amplifiers between each stage. It's mostly MXR equipment in there. Then I have a rack backstage with various effects an MXR reverb unit, delay unit and pitch transposer. That's basically it, and then that goes through a Marshall 50. That's what is miked up and that's what I monitor from. On Chris' side of the stage, his guitar monitor, we have a Marshall 100 which is slaved to where it's a double lead. One goes into my 50, one goes into his 100, and that goes to Chris' side of the stage. So he has a much cleaner sound.
"Chris' pedalboard was made by another guy in London. And it's all programmable, so you can put fuzz, echo and flange on one pedal, go to the next pedal and something else is programmed on that. He goes through a Marshall 100, and I think we're still using Crowns to slave it through. The main thing is, the PA system we have crosses over at 30 cycles on the bass bins, so you've got all this power coming from the bass bins."
Squier, now 35, is the only Yes member to appear on all fifteen of the group's albums, and his trebley, crackling bass sound has long been one of the group's trademark sounds. He is still using a Rickenbacker bass most of the time. He has recently begun playing a couple of numbers with a green custom-made bass that is as outrageous with its body design as the tattered, feathery full-length coat Squier wears during the show.
The 90125 tour is Rabin's first of America. The guitarist, whose boyish good looks bring to mind Paul McCartney, admits to only the slightest bit of nervousness in stepping into the Yes spotlight. "I was curious as to what the reception would be, but my sentiments have been from the beginning on that if there's a couple of guys who really wanted to see Yes as it was, I wasn't going to let that affect me. I get up there and enjoy myself. If people like it, great, if they don't, I've done my best. So far, so good.
"One thing I never wanted to do was just get onstage and play Steve Howe licks," Rabin continues. "I have a Gibson 175 at home, but I certainly wasn't going to go on the road with the Steve Howe guitar. I was going to change the guitar arrangements and put my style into it. Otherwise there would be no point. I'm not interested in filling someone's shoes. And the great thing was that the rest of the band was really into it and said, 'you can change what you like.'
"I've kept some of the Steve Howe licks, I've just put a different sound to them. If the song is written and there's a melody that is essential to the song, why change it for the sake of change? I've changed a lot, but a lot is still there. I try to put a different sound to it. I also play it all on one guitar as opposed to tons of different guitars all night. Steve used to play a 12-string on certain songs. I get that feeling from effects and try to modernize it without having to go to a 12-string. I'm trying to get that effect with a bit extra on it."
Yesman Lee:
Los Angeles Times
March, 25, 1984
According to Rabin, part of that rebirth has been acquiring a new audience "The other night Jon (Anderson) was telling me that in the old days the crowd was 99.9% guys, with long hair and beards. But now the audience is hipper. There's a whole new audience of young people who are hearing Yes for the first time. They've heard the new album and liked it. They liked 'Owner of a Lonely Heart' and the other dance tunes and they come to dance. So now we get some girls in the audience and some blacks too.
I'm really excited about having blacks in the audience. Coming from South Africa, that means something special to me."
How about the old Yes fans who come to hear Yes oldies?
"There's something for them too," Rabin insisted. "We play some of the old stuff but we bring a new sound and style to it. I think most of the old fans have accepted the fact that Yes isn't what it used to be. But I'm sure there are some who resent the changes. We can't really worry about those people. We hate to lose them but what can we do?"
March, 25, 1984
According to Rabin, part of that rebirth has been acquiring a new audience "The other night Jon (Anderson) was telling me that in the old days the crowd was 99.9% guys, with long hair and beards. But now the audience is hipper. There's a whole new audience of young people who are hearing Yes for the first time. They've heard the new album and liked it. They liked 'Owner of a Lonely Heart' and the other dance tunes and they come to dance. So now we get some girls in the audience and some blacks too.
I'm really excited about having blacks in the audience. Coming from South Africa, that means something special to me."
How about the old Yes fans who come to hear Yes oldies?
"There's something for them too," Rabin insisted. "We play some of the old stuff but we bring a new sound and style to it. I think most of the old fans have accepted the fact that Yes isn't what it used to be. But I'm sure there are some who resent the changes. We can't really worry about those people. We hate to lose them but what can we do?"
Jeff Smith:
In 1984, there was a keyboardist named Casey Young hiding under the stage, fleshing out Kaye's sound. (See the July 1984 KEYBOARD magazine.)
'90125Live - The Solos' album sleve:
Mickey Heyes
Assistant Tour Manager
In March of 1984 this long overdue show went on the road. Aside from seeing three continents, three tour managers, one small army of Argentinian security, encountering numerous threats, one ticket office bombing, some minor bickering and moaning, one squadron of flying saucers over Denver, lots of vodka and surviving two international escapes, the tour went smoothly and without incident. In spite of, or perhaps as a result of all this, what ensued was a series of shows that delighted audiences everywhere.
Assistant Tour Manager
In March of 1984 this long overdue show went on the road. Aside from seeing three continents, three tour managers, one small army of Argentinian security, encountering numerous threats, one ticket office bombing, some minor bickering and moaning, one squadron of flying saucers over Denver, lots of vodka and surviving two international escapes, the tour went smoothly and without incident. In spite of, or perhaps as a result of all this, what ensued was a series of shows that delighted audiences everywhere.
Tom Neumann:
I saw the 90125 tour and was very depressed afterwards because the band was not tight at all.
