Jonathan Horsley - November 2024

Saturday, October 19, 2024 7:08 PM

“MY HANDS HAVE BEEN PLAYING FOR SIXTY YEARS, SO THEY KNOW WHERE THE FRETS ARE!”

Oct 18, 2024

We have Steve Howe to thank for extending progressive rock’s boundaries beyond the horizon. The Yes guitarist’s jazz sensibility and musical curiosity shaped a sound that continues to evolve. His conceptual new solo album Guitarscape comprises a diverse array of chordal-driven guitar instrumentals, recorded with his son Dylan on drums.

What guitar did you learn on?

I think it cost £14. I bought it in King’s Cross, London. It was just a brownish archtop kind of guitar, two f-holes and a bridge. Nothing fancy.

It wasn’t a Framus but it was like that kind of guitar, and that was the first instrument that I owned. I was very grateful my Dad bought it for me. That was in 1959, and I really started in 1960.

How much did you practise in the early days, and how much do you practice now?

The answer is simple. I don’t practice, because I don’t think that practicing in itself is necessary unless I haven’t played for a long time and I want to do some warming up, then yeah, I might do some scales, and I have got an interesting kind of run-up thing that starts quite steady and then gets faster where you go through every note on the guitar.

I love doing those but I don’t do them very often, and usually because I am in touch with my guitar. My hands have been playing for 60 years, so basically they do know where the frets are.

Sometimes I like to play something I wrote to make sure I can still play it. I hadn’t played Clap [his instrumental track from 1971’s The Yes Album] for about two months, and I sat down and picked up a Martin and went, ‘Play Clap,’ and I played the whole thing! That is my confirmation, periodically, if I need it, because I don’t play it a lot.

Who was your biggest influence or what was your biggest motivation as a player?

When I heard Chet Atkins, everything changed. I became more personalised in my ambitions, not just to become a guitarist but a particular kind of guitarist, free to do lots of things, not just Apache! Chet could manage nice things on just about anything, and also he had this marvellous back story of being associated with other great people. I didn’t know that at the time, and it took me a bit of time to realise that I had just read about him on the Everly Brothers records, in the liner notes [Atkins produced the Everly Brothers]. There was more to the man than you see. But playing was the central thing. He was brilliant, absolutely brilliant.

Initially, I didn’t realise how much two guitarists influenced me before I had even picked up the guitar, because I loved the sound they got. That was a guy called Jimmy Bryant, who played on the records my parents had, sung by Tennessee Ernie Ford, and of course Les Paul! My parents had Les Paul records with Mary Ford, so I played those and I thought, ‘That’s pretty wonderful!’ They may have encouraged me towards the guitar. There was this interest in music in the house generally and I got into pop when it came out, Hank Marvin… guitar instrumentals.

What are your non-negotiables when it comes to guitar?

What is crucial now is that I’m playing guitars that I’m very familiar with. I won’t accept being unfamiliar with a guitar, and how it feels has become much more important. It has to feel absolutely right. I perform on performance-level guitars because I need that so much, and I won’t have a hindrance from the guitar. The guitars have to be very well maintained and well-strung, and Simon Thorn is doing that for me now. Simon’s doing great. The setup of the guitar is important.

In terms of technique, what was the last new trick you learned?

Most of what I think up has something new about it to me, although it maybe in the chords or something that I hear. I don’t know that I think about new tricks. There is a lot that you can do on a guitar that sounds really wonderful but is actually quite easy, so in a way, the guitar is a very tempting instrument to explore. Most players probably don’t stop finding nice things.

In your early days, what guitar was the game-changer for you?

My heart was set on a Gibson ES-175, in 1964, which my dad helped me buy. That is the most important guitar in the world to me, and that’s why it is heavily protected! I bought that only four years after starting the guitar, so it was very ambitious of me, but in that time, I’d had two other electric guitars; a Guyatone LG-40, sometimes called an Antoria LG-40, and also a Burns jazz guitar which had two pickups.

What new instruments have you acquired recently?

I got a new pedal steel by Williams and that is brilliant. That’s quite inspiring, too. Last year, I bought a Gibson Tennessean, which is once again a big wave to Chet Atkins because he designed this guitar, and he always sounded wonderful playing them. I mean, I had to get one, inevitably, and I find it wonderful, too. It is the featured guitar on a new track, Secret Mission.

As a player, do you have any bad habits that you worry about?

Well, the lightness of touch that Chet plays electric with – I’m getting there a little bit on the Tennessean, but I could play lighter. I would almost confess that when I hear the original Mood For A Day [his instrumental from another Yes album from 1971, Fragile], I think I am thrashing that guitar to pieces, and I don’t play like that at all anymore. So some of the things that I’ve done before I don’t do the same now, because I get more out of playing it beautifully and respectfully - and that goes for all of that area of performing it and making it right for the moment.

Which is the song or performance that is you’re most proud of?

It’s transient. It’s not the same. In one period, there will be something that grabbed you, but there can’t be an overriding song that I enjoy in that way. I would probably say Clap to be honest! Because that is only me and if I get it right then I am pretty happy. It’s good to have that pressure. I take it for granted that I can perform anything that I have recorded, but some things are easier than others.

What do you play when you are relaxing and just playing for the fun of it?

Basically, I don’t like to feel like there is any reason why I should play anything in particular. I do like to pull out a solo piece and play that, if it is the appropriate guitar to do that on. There might be something musically that I am thinking about, something I played last week. I’ve got my little voice recorder and I might check back.

But I don’t need inspiration from outside. I just sit and play, but what I play… it might be improvised. I might just improvise. That’s what I replaced practising with. Just improvise. It doesn’t matter if you are playing chords or a single line, and you can hear the sort of music that you would hear background, imagining it was there, and jam if you like on a 12 bar. I think that’s the freedom I like – just to have fun.

Is there a piece of music that you wish you could play but can’t?

Loads of things! Thousands of things! I couldn’t even start there, but that’s what I do. I admire music. I admire other people’s music. When I hear Tal Farlow playing Chuckles or something, this is just sheer heavenly delightful jazz guitar – why would I even think I could do that? But there again, I have been influenced by jazz and it has a way of showing me that doesn’t require me going to the extent of specialising in it.

And after all these years, is it still a challenge to play live?

A performer can really beat themselves up if they did something wrong that’s rather apparent or that is dreadful. You can spend days trying to forget it – just that one moment. That happens often. It’s not never. That happens periodically with something you do; you come off and feel hurt.

But you have to remember that this is live performance and you don’t know what’s going to happen when the show starts. All sorts of things can distract you. What we want to do is play the most electrifying shows that we can, but then again, we are not robots. We won’t be the same as the other show. I think that’s why most people come to shows – to see what happens.

Guitarscape is out now.

Brian Hiatt - Rolling Stone Music Now

Saturday, August 24, 2024 11:32 PM

Music Now

The Making of ‘Fragile,’ the Birth of Prog and More with Yes Guitarist Steve Howe

"Too twiddly didn't exist for us": Howe goes deep on the creation of Fragile, why he loves Rush, and more in our in-depth new interview

By Brian Hiatt

August 24, 2024

“Too twiddly didn’t really exist to us, in our minds,” guitar legend Steve Howe of Yes says in the new episode of Rolling Stone Music Now, explaining the musical mission of his band — and of prog-rock itself. “There wasn’t really such a thing. If you could play it, then it obviously isn’t too twiddly — because, hang on, you’re playing it! We wanted to sparkle, we wanted a surprise… We were taking untold risks and gambles and playing about with things.”

A new ultra-deluxe box set Yes’ 1971 classic, Fragile, is out now, and Howe took the opportunity to look back at the making of that album, the early days of the band, why he loves Rush, and much more in our new interview. Some highlights follow; to hear the whole interview, go here for the podcast provider of your choice, listen on Apple Podcasts or Spotify, or just press play above.

Yes was a huge influence on Rush — and Howe is, in turn, a fan of that band. “We much admired them,” Howe says. “This was a very powerful trio. Trios are very rare, that you can do that. ELP, Cream, there’s a handful. So they had a incredible power to do that. And when your drummer is admired as much as he was, and the other guys build up their reputation, Alex [Lifeson] and Geddy [Lee] … and I love the guys very much, particularly Geddy, who I had a chance to spend some time with a little while back. So basically, this is a great band with its own story, but they came from the embryo, if you like, of what ELP and Genesis and Yes started doing in the Seventies. And I say bravo. [Just as] I love Dream Theater’s adventurousness. They took on some of our ideas, and I think it’s quite flattering, more than in any way It could ever be annoying.”

Psychedelic rock — and even taking psychedelics — led directly to prog-rock. “I noticed a lot of great things about music that I loved, during those periods where I took mild amounts of it,” Howe says. “Music was a central part of it. It took your breath away — ‘wow, listen to that!’ There was this other dimension. I think it was highly creative — but not recommendable. It’s too risky. It’s like anything. If you know it’s dangerous, don’t go there.”

Howe admires the amazing Dolby Atmos remix of Fragile by Steven Wilson on the new box set, but will always prefer the original. “There are different mixes and they all have their different values,” Howe says. “And maybe it’s the time I should confess that for me, the original mixes are the original mixes — It’s not possible to surpass them. They’re the end stop… I was there. I know the differences. They’re incredibly small, incredibly slight, but to my ear, I can tell.”

it’s a myth that former Yes lead singer Jon Anderson wrote songs without playing an instrument — in fact, he played some guitar. “Jon knew some chords, and he would vamp about. Jon was an inspirational musician to work with because he was free in his own mind to try lots of different things. The way he found those chords fascinated me because they often had nice twists in them.”

The Yes classic “Roundabout” started with a few simple chords. “I must have played that to Jon,” Howe recalls, “and he thought it was nice.” He’s particularly proud of the song’s intro, a ringing piano chord recorded backwards: “The backward piano, I believe, was my idea. It really gave it a kind of moment. That was a beautiful E minor… flipped on the tape and then lined up so that it would climax backwards with the attack of the chord.”

Download and subscribe to Rolling Stone‘s weekly podcast, Rolling Stone Music Now, hosted by Brian Hiatt, on Apple Podcasts or Spotify (or wherever you get your podcasts). Check out seven years worth of episodes in the archive, including in-depth interviews with Mariah Carey, Bruce Springsteen, Questlove, Halsey, Neil Young, Snoop Dogg, Brandi Carlile, Phoebe Bridgers, Rick Ross, Alicia Keys, the National, Ice Cube, Taylor Hawkins, Willow, Keith Richards, Robert Plant, Dua Lipa, Killer Mike, Julian Casablancas, Sheryl Crow, Johnny Marr, Scott Weiland, Liam Gallagher, Alice Cooper, Fleetwood Mac, Elvis Costello, John Legend, Donald Fagen, Charlie Puth, Phil Collins, Justin Townes Earle, Stephen Malkmus, Sebastian Bach, Tom Petty, Eddie Van Halen, Kelly Clarkson, Pete Townshend, Bob Seger, the Zombies, and Gary Clark Jr. And look for dozens of episodes featuring genre-spanning discussions, debates, and explainers with Rolling Stone’s critics and reporters.

Bill Kopp - Goldmine

Monday, August 5, 2024 8:14 PM

5 Alan White recordings outside of Yes

The drummer extraordinaire made his mark with Yes for many years, but what about his other projects that he was involved in? We give you five great examples.

Bill Kopp
Jul 26, 2024

Alan White was a drummer extraordinaire. He took over the drum seat in Yes when Bill Bruford left (for the greater challenge of King Crimson, so the story goes). But playing in Yes always demanded the power and finesse of a seasoned, world-class drummer, and that description fit White to a T. The Pelton, England native also held the honor of being Yes’ longest-tenured member (1972 until his death in 2022 at age 72).

But Alan White’s drumming career began long before he joined Yes, and even after coming on board with the progressive superstars, he continued to take on occasional session work. During a year in which he would have celebrated his 75th birthday, here are five notable session credits featuring Grammy winner and Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductee Alan White.

“Instant Karma!” single by John Lennon (1970)

White was enlisted by John Lennon for the soon-to-be-ex-Beatle’s first major concert without his band. As part of the Plastic Ono Band (along with guitarist Eric Clapton and Lennon’s old Hamburg pal Klaus Voorman on bass), White played at the Toronto Peace Festival in 1969. Soon thereafter, Lennon called on him again, this time to play on the Phil Spector co-production of “Instant Karma!” Other musicians on the quickly-recorded studio track include George Harrison, Billy Preston and Beatles roadie Mal Evans.

“If Not for You” from All Things Must Pass by George Harrison (1970)

George Harrison famously had a surfeit of excellent material that he wasn’t able to record with the Beatles. So when it came time for him to make his first solo album (not counting Electronic Sounds and the Wonderwall soundtrack), he called in friends from far and wide for the sessions. Owing to the manner in which the sessions were scheduled, each track has its own unique lineup. For the country-flavored reading of this Bob Dylan tune, the lineup was George, Klaus Voorman, Ringo Starr on tambourine, Gary Wright and Billy Preston on keyboards, and Alan White on drums.

“I'm Ready” from Back Street Crawler by Paul Kossoff (1973)

Guitarist Paul Kossoff co-founded Free in 1968 with Paul Rodgers, Simon Kirke and Andy Fraser. The band earned massive success with “All Right Now” in 1970. By 1973 the band had split, with Fraser and Rodgers going on to launch the similar (and even more successful) Bad Company. Meanwhile, Kossoff released his solo debut, Back Street Crawler, in ‘73 before going on to start a band with that name. For the album sessions, Kossoff enlisted the help of a number of musicians; Alan White played drums on two tracks: the popular “I’m Ready” and “Tuesday Morning.”

“Anne of Cleves” from The Six Wives of Henry VIII by Rick Wakeman (1973)

When Rick Wakeman set aside a lucrative career as a session player to join Yes, part of the package was a solo deal. As a non-singer, the keyboard virtuoso decided to make an instrumental album. At first the studio brass were nonplussed, but when it became a hit, they were happy. Wakeman’s conceptual work was inspired by – as the title makes clear – the succession of spouses of England’s King Henry VIII. Wakeman used an assortment of players to suit the demands of each piece, and for “Anne of Cleves” he called upon a group of musicians that included his Yes band mate Alan White.

“Wait a Little Longer” from E.H. in the U.K. by Eddie Harris (1974)

Alan White’s varied talents were applied to music in many genres. Jazz saxophonist Eddie Harris is best known for his collaboration with soul jazz legend Less McCann on the landmark live recording Swiss Movement, but Harris’ prolific solo career yielded many excellent records. E.H. in the U.K. marked something like the 30th album featuring Harris as leader; the album found him working with a variety of well known British musicians, many outside the jazz world. “Wait a Little Longer” featured the keyboard talents of Zoot Money along with others including Alan White on drums.

Gary Graff - Guitar Player

Wednesday, June 26, 2024 3:10 PM

“I was on the toilet with my acoustic guitar and I just started playing the riff. I thought, 'Wow, that’s either something or it’s just a bunch of irrelevant notes'. The next day, the riff came back…"

How Trevor Rabin wrote Yes’s Owner of a Lonely Heart

By Gary Graff
published 20 January 2024

What does the song “Owner of a Lonely Heart” mean to Trevor Rabin over 40 years after Yes recorded it for their 1983 reunion album, 90125? “Age,” the South African–born guitarist and composer says with a laugh. “Forty years. Oh my God! I can’t believe it.”

Yet the song still ranks as the biggest hit Yes ever had. Following a brief breakup in 1981, the band had reunited as Cinema, with Rabin, bassist Chris Squire, drummer Alan White and Yes’s founding keyboardist Tony Kaye.

Once frontman Jon Anderson joined, everyone agreed it was both proper and commercially advantageous to take the Yes name. Ironically, when choosing a producer, the group turned to Trevor Horn, who had replaced Anderson in 1980 and pursued a production career after Yes broke up.

As it happens, “Owner of a Lonely Heart” was written well before the lineup existed. Rabin had composed it years earlier while living in England. The song started life where many great ideas come from.

“I was on the toilet with my acoustic guitar,” he recalls, “and I just started playing the riff. At first I thought, Wow, that’s either something or it’s just a bunch of irrelevant notes. The next day the riff came back. So I thought, That’s gotta be something good, ’cause it didn’t just disappear.”

For Rabin, the song’s sentiment came “from the feeling I’d had when girlfriends dumped me, and I was just driving around with that empty feeling. And it sounds better than ‘broken heart.’ It’s simple as that, really.”

Rabin included the tune on a demo tape he circulated while looking for a record deal in the U.S., where he’d moved in 1978, but it failed to make a positive impression on those who heard it, including famed record exec Clive Davis, who was then at Arista.

“He said, ’We feel your voice has Top 40 appeal, but this song is very weird and left field,’” Rabin recalls. “And that was the end of it with him.”

Despite being written and demoed years earlier, “Owner of a Lonely Heart” was a late addition to 90125. “I think there was a consensus it was gonna be on the album at some point,” Rabin says. “It just took a while.”

Prior to recording the song, Anderson changed the verse lyrics to reflect his belief in self-empowerment. “It got to be this philosophical diatribe,” Rabin says. “‘Owner of a Lonely Heart’ is a pretty simple sentiment, but I think Jon’s lyrics worked with it because they ended up meaning something deep.”

For the recording, Rabin recalls, “We did the bass and drums and guitar first. I said, ‘I want to start with this massive reverb version of the riff, and then go completely dry.’ They thought I was nuts, but I said, ‘That’s what’s gonna kick it off.’ You expect this large thing to carry on, but then it kicks into this dry, almost club funk. It was very dynamic.”

“When it came to the solo, I said, ‘I want to do something a little weird. I’m gonna add notes a fifth above to harmonize with what I’m playing.’ Trevor cranked it so loud in the control room, I almost couldn’t play. The minute I finished, I said, ‘Let’s do a couple more.’ But Trevor said, ‘No, no, we’ve got it.’”

Released on October 24, 1983, two weeks before 90125, “Owner of a Lonely Heart” became Yes’s first and only number one hit on the Billboard Hot 100 and also topped the Hot Mainstream Rock Tracks chart. It placed number eight on Billboard’s 1984 year-end chart, a testament to its impact at the time.

Rabin says he first heard the song on the radio while tanning at home in Los Angeles. “It didn’t sound too good,” he says. “I thought, ‘Ooh, I think we might be in trouble.’ But then I began hearing it all the time on the radio in the car, and I started to think it could be a hit.”

He learned it had reached number one while vacationing in Miami. As he celebrated with a glass of champagne by the hotel pool, a woman whisking down a water slide slammed into him and ruptured his spleen.

The accident required emergency surgery and postponed Yes’s support tour, but once he’d recovered, Rabin sent a souvenir to Clive Davis: a photograph of the Billboard chart showing “Owner” at number one.

Trevor Rabin reveals the origins of the 1983 mega-hit that put Yes on top of the charts

Dave Ling - Classic Rock

Monday, June 3, 2024 1:08 PM

"When I'm not interested or unavailable, I believe that Yes should carry on": Steve Howe on the future of Yes and his new version of Tales From Topographic Oceans

By Dave Ling
(Classic Rock)
published 31 May 2024

Steve Howe on the future of Yes, the band's next leader, and why an Avatar show isn't out of the question

Steve Howe, guitarist and Yes’s de facto leader of the moment, is currently on the road with the enduring progressive rockers. The tour is billed as The Classic Tales Of Yes, and finds the group performing music from last year’s album Mirror To The Sky and, of course, a whole host of Yes’s catalogue standards, including some “rarely played” selections.

Before his death, Alan White, Yes’s drummer for more than fifty years, gave his blessing to his successor Jay Schellen. How do you think Jay is bedding into the line-up?

Those are difficult shoes to fill, but Jay has been in the background with us for a while. On tour, Alan would come out and do the encores, or maybe even the last song, as his capability minimised. Jay was there in the groove and ready to step up. Every musician has goals to reach. Jay has set a few of those for himself and also as part of Yes, but he’s working in to the role really well.

Were you satisfied with the general response to the most recent Yes album, Mirror To The Sky, which was released in May 2023?

Yeah. The band is enjoying moving forwards again. There have been some big gaps between albums, and there were reasons for that, but doing Mirror To The Sky so soon after The Quest 2021 gave us a real platform for development. I was very happy with songs like Luminosity and Circles Of Time.

In that same spirit of industry, how is work proceeding on what would be Yes’s twenty-fourth studio album?

There are elements of material going forward, but we’re in no hurry. Rushing things doesn’t work for any of the team. We’ll go there when we’re ready.

One of the most fascinating things about Yes is the band’s regular changes of leadership. As producer and driving force, you are very much the man in the driving seat at present. How does that responsibility sit with you?

I had no goal of being the leader of Yes. I always joke that when I joined the band there were already two people arguing about it. But yeah at the moment the band does listen to me, though I’m head of a democracy. It’s a two-way street, and it works.

All the best organisations have succession plans. Do you have somebody in mind who might take control of Yes when your turn ends?

I don’t quite follow your question?

Who has it in their locker to become the next leader? As the band’s second longest-serving member, could Geoffrey Downes step up?

That’s far too presumptuous. As I’ve said, it’s not a leadership game. It’s about the person that has ideas and that can project them towards the band, that’s the spirit we’re talking about. Right now it’s me, but I can’t predict who the next guy will be.

Do you envisage a time when you will no longer be able to continue as a member of Yes, or even have the desire to do so?

I haven’t got a crystal ball, I don’t even know how I will feel tomorrow, but at the moment I’m happy going along with it. The band has some style, and it moves at a comfortable pace. But of course I still have external goals, particularly about playing solo guitar, which is why I released my album Motif Volume 2 last year.

Are you proud of the fact that, along with bands like the Stones, Yes are rewriting the rules of rock music? At the outset, a group could hope to last maybe five or ten years at the most.

Absolutely. In the sixties I remember Paul McCartney saying that they The Beatles would be retiring soon. And I never thought that I would be in Yes again after I left in 1981 and Asia came along. It does make me proud that we are still one of those bands that still goes out there and rocks. The Stones still do it, and so do we. I’m not into praising myself, but when I joined Yes in 1970 there must have been some ingredient that enabled me to harmonise with Jon Anderson and Chris Squire.

Here’s a Pseuds’ Corner question: is it important that Yes continues to exist in one form or another?

Yeah, I think that it is. When I’m not interested or unavailable, or for whatever reason, I believe that Yes should carry on. That’s down to the skill of the people that remain.

Like Kiss, when no original members remain could Yes continue as a hologram band?

People seem to really like the ABBA avatar show, and if that’s true I can’t see what’s wrong with it. I believe that if you don’t keep up with technology then you fall behind.

Who picks the set-list for Yes tours?

I don’t like to tell you how. I write a basic list, but it’s democratic. Everybody has to agree on the songs and the running order. This time there are some interesting ideas. We’ve reinvented Tales From Topographic Oceans 1973’s controversial, conceptual double album into a twenty-minute visitation of its key moments. That’s my pride and joy at the moment.

Yes are currently touring the UK. For dates and tickets, visit the official Yes website.

--

Dave Ling was a co-founder of Classic Rock magazine. His words have appeared in a variety of music publications, including RAW, Kerrang!, Metal Hammer, Prog, Rock Candy, Fireworks and Sounds. Dave’s life was shaped in 1974 through the purchase of a copy of Sweet’s album ‘Sweet Fanny Adams’, along with early gig experiences from Status Quo, Rush, Iron Maiden, AC/DC, Yes and Queen. As a lifelong season ticket holder of Crystal Palace FC, he is completely incapable of uttering the word ‘Br***ton’.

Andy Greene - Rolling Stone

Thursday, May 30, 2024 7:56 AM

STARSHIP TROOPERS

Jon Anderson Is Playing Seventies Yes Classics Again — With a Band He Found on YouTube

The former Yes frontman discovered Richie Castellano and his buddies online and is taking them on the road to revive prog epics from the band's heyday

BY ANDY GREENE

MAY 29, 2024

In the summer of 2018, Richie Castellano and his buddies posted a remarkable cover of the 1972 Yes epic “Close to the Edge” to their YouTube channel and watched it rack up over half a million views. “I’m blown away by these comments,” he wrote in response to the outpouring of love by prog fans. “This isn’t a bunch of music snobs showing off. This is genuine love for Yes and their music. We are hardcore Yes fans and this video is not about conquering a song or doing it better than anyone. It’s about the joy of indulging our inner teenagers and being lucky enough to get the opportunity to play our favorite music.”

Castellano has been a multi-instrumentalist in Blue Öyster Cult for the past two decades, and videos like “Close to the Edge” were just a fun way for him to spend time between commitments to the group. But one of the half million people to see the video was Yes lead singer Jon Anderson, right around the time he was in need of a new band. “They were quite amazing, and they looked happy and fun,” Anderson tells Rolling Stone. “I phoned up Richie the bass player and said, ‘Let’s go on tour.’ And he said, ‘What?'”

The tour wasn’t able to take place until 2023 due to Covid and Anderson’s other obligations, but it was worth the wait. Under the banner “Yes — Epics & Classics Featuring Jon Anderson and the Band Geeks,” they delivered a night of Seventies prog masterpieces like “Heart of the Sunrise,” “Yours Is No Disgrace,” and “Awaken” played to absolute perfection. And when it wrapped up, they funneled their energy into a new album, True, that they plan on releasing later this year.

“I can’t even wrap my head around all this,” says Castellano. “I used to go watch Jon in concert and scream at him. Getting to do something like this is just a dream. It’s also been opportunity as a Yes fan to go, ‘OK, we’ve been handed the keys to the kingdom. We have Jon Anderson singing for us. How do we want this to go?'”

Castellano learned about the kingdom of Yes at age 14 when his uncle Phil handed him a copy of Fragile. “He challenged me to learn ‘Heart of the Sunrise,'” he says. “And so I tried it and then I realized, ‘Oh, this is way beyond me musically. I don’t understand what’s happening here.’ Once I learned how to do it, I was converted. I was a fan.”

He first saw Yes when the Talk tour came to the Garden State Arts Center in Holmdel, New Jersey, on Sept. 7, 1994. “As a young guitar player, Trevor Rabin just melted my face,” he says. “I probably saw them seven or eight times after that. I converted all my friends.”

Castellano got a job with Blue Öyster Cult as a sound engineer when he was done with his schooling, which led to occasional opportunities to guest with them at gigs. When bassist Danny Miranda let the band in 2004, they offered Castellano his spot. Three years later, when journeyman bassist Rudy Sarzo joined the group, Castellano took on a new rule as a keyboardist, rhythm guitarist, and backing vocalist.

Sarzo has played with everyone from Ozzy Osbourne and Quiet Riot to Whitesnake, Geoff Tate’s Queensrÿche, and the Guess Who. Castellano was in awe of him. They were in the back of the tour van one day when Sarzo asked him if he had his own YouTube channel. He didn’t. “He said, ‘You’re making a big mistake,'” says Castellano. ‘A guy your age, if you don’t have a YouTube channel, you don’t exist.’ I’ll never forget that.”

With Sarzo’s help, Castellano started his own YouTube channel and began posting videos, including his one-man take on Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” that went viral. He also started a podcast with his musical buddies he called Band Geek. It didn’t long for him to realize that people had far more interest in hearing them play music than just talk about it. “We phased the podcast out,” says Castellano. “And we became Band Geek the band.”

Working alongside a rotating crew of musicians, Castellano tackled songs like “Here I Go Again,” “In the Cage,” “Working for the Weekend,” and “Heaven and Hell.” Whenever they did a Yes song, soprano vocalist Ann Marie Nacchio joined them.

Jon Anderson’s webmaster came across their “Close to the Edge” and put them on the phone together. “I was completely a babbling idiot on the phone,” says Castellano. “Because how often does your hero call you? The person you’ve been idolizing since childhood. He went, ‘You sound like Seventies Yes. Everything is just perfect.’ I was just floating while he was talking. At the end, he said, ‘We should do something.'”

At the time, Yes were divided into two warring camps. Guitarist Steve Howe led Yes with drummer Alan White and Drama-era keyboardist Geoff Downes, while Anderson fronted the spinoff group Yes Featuring Jon Anderson, Trevor Rabin, and Rick Wakeman. For reasons that have never been fully articulated, the Anderson/Rabin/Wakeman incarnation of the group dissolved in 2018. “That band was fun,” Anderson says. “There’s a story there, but I won’t tell it now.”

Whatever the story is, it ends with Anderson as a man without a band. But the instant he saw Castellano and the Band Geeks play “Close to the Edge,” he saw a path forward. “I told Richie I wanted to go on tour,” says Anderson. “He goes, ‘Jon, are you serious?’ I said to him, ‘Yeah, I want to play ‘Gates of Delirium,’ ‘Close to the Edge,’ ‘Awaken,’ and all the hits of the Seventies. If we have to do anything like ‘Owner of a Lonely Heart,’ we’ll do it at the end. But generally speaking, I want to do the music of Yes in the Seventies, the best of it.”

It took a while to sort through the logistics, wait out Covid, and find a hole in the Blue Öyster Cult tour schedule. There was also the matter of Castellano, keyboardist Chris Clark, keyboardist Andy Ascolese, guitarist Robert Kipp, and guitarist-bassist Andy Graziano learning every tiny nuance of these wildly complicated songs.

“We did 48 rehearsals for the first tour,” says Castellano. “And that was just to get all the parts right. Jon eventually started watching us via Zoom. He’d be like, ‘Oh, in this part, change this’ or ‘you sing this part with me.’ He’d be singing along even though it was Zoom. It was really awesome.”

For Castellano, the hardest part was figuring out how to play all 22 minutes of “Gates of Delirium.” “There’s this one bass drum and bass guitar pattern with no repeats in it,” he says. “It’s like one long phrase you just have to memorize. If one of your readers knows what the repeat is, please send it to me because I couldn’t find it. I looked at it from every angle. I eventually had to make up these little mnemonic devices and nursery rhymes just to get the part right.”

Most of these songs were in the Yes live repertoire for decades, which only complicated matters. “Over time, songs morph, tempos change, sections get cut out,” says Castellano. “What’s the right version of ‘Close to the Edge’? The way they played it on the 1973 live album Yessongs? Is it the way they played it in the late Seventies? How about on the 1996 live album Keys to Ascension or the 2000 Masterworks tour?’ I eventually just said to the guys, ‘Every way is correct. The way they played it in 2004 is just as valid as the way they played it in 1974.'”

Anderson insisted they use two keyboard players so they could add in the extra textures from the albums that Yes were never able to duplicate live. “During ‘Close to the Edge,’ right before the band comes in after the pipe organ solo during the beginning of the ‘Seasons of Man’ section, there’s this pipe organ freakout going on under the Moog,” says Castellano. “Yes couldn’t do both of them live, but we can because we have another set of hands.”

The tour was a mere 12 shows concentrated on the East Coast. For Anderson, every night was a revelation. “It felt really exciting,” he says. “I remember thinking, ‘I don’t believe what’s happening! Everyone is just amazing. Let’s go around the world!'”

Before that could happen, Anderson wanted to record new music with Castellano and the Band Geeks to make this something more than a rehash of the past. But that was tricky since Anderson lives in California, the Band Geeks are centered around New York, and Blue Öyster Cult spends significant time on the road every year.

They wound up with a system where Anderson would send them demos via email, they’d flesh them out as a band, and then compare notes on Zoom. “It was like the Seventies where I would suggest ideas to the guys and because they’re musicians, they’d get on with it,” says Anderson. “I can just play four chords and then I’m done.” (Other songs worked in the reverse order where the Band Geeks would send a piece of original music to Anderson.)

A new tour begins May 30 at the State Theatre in New Brunswick, New Jersey. This one is significantly longer than the 2023 run, and there’s already talk of adding shows. Anderson spoke to us shortly before rehearsals kicked off, but he said he imagined the set would be very similar to the one last year. He does plan on removing “Gates of Delirium” to make room for two songs from the new record.

“I don’t want to confuse anyone that thought they were going to get Yes music,” Anderson says. “My dream is that we can do another tour next year and do an hour of new music and an hour of Yes music. Maybe we’d mix them all together. I don’t know yet.”

Whatever happens, Anderson says he’s going to stick with the Band Geeks for the foreseeable future. Castellano still has a hard time processing the whole thing. “If you would’ve told me this when we started the Band Geek podcast, that we were going to end up being a band that plays with Jon Anderson, I would’ve said, ‘Fuck you,'” he says. “I have no idea how this morphed into this.”

Grant Moon - Prog - #146 - January 2024

Friday, May 17, 2024 10:02 PM

“Isn’t it the best when you get into a band and they happen to have so much material to discover?” Yes’ Jon Davison fell in love with the Moody Blues by falling in love with John Lodge’s daughter

By Grant Moon
Prog #146
January 2024

Singer has a soft spot for Tom Waits' melancholy first album and tree-hugger activities - and he’s in a band with his prog hero

Jon Davison has been the lead vocalist of Yes since 2012, and has gone on to sing on the band's three most recent releases, 2014's Heaven & Earth, 2021's The Quest, and Mirror To The Sky, which came out in 2023. Below, he gives us a glimpse into his prog world.

Where’s home?

Blighty! I met my now wife, Emily, daughter of John Lodge, on the 2019 Cruise To The Edge, and not long after I moved to England to be with her.

Earliest memory of prog?

One of the counsellors at a church youth weekend retreat had a copy of Rush’s Exit Stage Left, and he invited a few of us to stay up late and listen. There was false talk in these circles of Rush being an acronym for ‘Running Upon Satan’s Hand’!

First prog album you bought?

It was 2112, but my truly classic prog album purchase was a two-on-one Yes cassette, with Fragile on one side and Close To The Edge on the other. Can you think of anything better?

And the last?

I’ve recently gotten into King Gizzard And The Lizard Wizard. They really do weave an interesting blend of styles in such a fresh and unexpected way.

Your first prog gig?

Rush on their Power Windows tour at the Pacific Amphitheatre in Costa Mesa in California, May 25, 1986, near where I grew up.

And the latest?

Father John Misty in Austin. He has a dulcet-toned voice enveloped by a moody melodic sort-of indie sound, and he’s quite the clever wordsmith. He’s not really prog, but his music is quite imaginative and elaborate just the same.

The best prog gig you ever saw?

My first Yes concert, again at the Pacific Amphitheatre, during the Big Generator tour March 1988. I have this vivid memory of listening to And You And I from the grassy hilltop on a perfectly warm, breezy evening. I was absolutely transfixed.

Your latest prog discovery?

I was never really exposed to Moody Blues’ music until I met Emily and John. I’ve since dived deep into their extensive catalogue and have genuinely fallen deeply in love with their dreamy, romantic music. Isn’t it the best when you get into a band and they happen to have so much material to discover?

Your guilty musical pleasure?

I have a definite soft spot for Tom Waits ballads, particularly those from his first album, Closing Time. My melancholy side just loves that album.

Your favourite venue?

The Royal Albert Hall. I’ve performed there with Yes four or five times now and it’s always as surreal as it was the very first time. What an atmosphere!

Your prog hero?

Steve Howe. I’m so blessed to be in his close company quite often and I therefore absorb so much of his musical insight and inspiration. He truly is a master: one who has an innate musical gift and who’s achieved so much.

Outside of music, what do you enjoy doing?

Exercising in nature, and wild swimming whenever I get the chance. I’m a tree hugger at heart. I try and make more effort to meditate, which definitely puts things in proper focus for me. I also thrive on attempting to satisfy Emily’s almost insatiable thirst for travel. Living so close to Europe means we have quite an interesting playground within convenient reach.

Ever had a prog-related date?

No. Where I grew up – Laguna Beach, CA – you had a fighting chance at getting a girl if you most definitely did not mention prog in any way, shape or form! Emily just patiently smiles in remote appreciation whenever prog music comes up...

What’s the most important piece of prog music?

Either Close To The Edge or Firth Of Fifth.

Recommend a good book to us.

Autobiography Of A Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda offers deep insight into a whole new world of being. George Harrison once said he had a stack of copies and would pass them out to friends whenever one of them felt they needed ‘regrooving’. Its footnotes also inspired much of the Tales From Topographic Oceans’ lyrical outline, and it was apparently the only book Steve Jobs had on his iPad.

The prog musician you would most like to work with?

Steve Hackett. Although I’ve spent a little time with him and his lovely wife, Jo, I’ve never had the proper chance to fully express to him my immense appreciation of his guitar playing, and for his monumental contribution toward what is best in Genesis music.

Which proggy album gets you in a good mood?

Jethro Tull’s Songs From The Wood. Great album.

Your favourite prog album cover?

Most likely the one Roger Dean will design for Yes’ next new studio album! But I’ve always thought Rush’s cover for Permanent Waves was quite clever. There are too many to list.

What are you up to at the moment?

Yes are on the verge of heading out across the US on our Classic Tales Of Yes Tour, which will promote our enthusiastically received new album, Mirror To The Sky, plus highlight much of the diverse canon of Yes music. We will definitely be bringing this show to the UK in 2024, which I can now proudly say is in my own back yard!

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A music journalist for over 20 years, Grant writes regularly for titles including Prog, Classic Rock and Total Guitar, and his CV also includes stints as a radio producer/presenter and podcast host. His first book, 'Big Big Train - Between The Lines', is out now through Kingmaker Publishing.

Goldmine

Sunday, May 12, 2024 9:44 PM

See new YES video, which coincides with announcements of expanded LP and tour

"Mirror to the Sky" video coincides with the announcement of a new limited 2-CDBlu-ray Digipak edition of the album and U.K./European tour.

Goldmine Staff
Feb 23, 2024

It has been almost a year since the band YES — who are now Steve Howe, Geoff Downes, Jon Davison, Billy Sherwood and Jay Schellen — released their latest studio album Mirror to the Sky. And now a new limited 2-CDBlu-ray Digipak edition of the album will be released on April 5. This edition features the full album, plus the Blu-ray including Dolby Atmos, 5.1 Surround Sound and instrumental mixes of the album.

Plus, following their U.S. tour late last year, the band will resume in the U.K .and Europe for ‘The Classic Tales of YES Tour 2024.’

To coincide with this, YES have launched a brand new video for an edited version of the album’s title track, and you can watch that below.

‘The Classic Tales of YES Tour 2024’ promises many tracks from the YES back-catalog covering 50-plus years. The tour will also include a celebration of the 50th Anniversary of Tales from Topographic Oceans as well as music from their current album Mirror to the Sky.

“We're all excited to be bringing our show home to Europe and the U.K.!” says Steve Howe, “We've selected a new playlist of Yes music but with some firm favourites in there too, of course! To keep our performances fresh, we 'now' carry our own lights, so we can present a consistent show each night, designed for us by William Succuso ........ Looking forward to seeing you out there!”

"We are very much looking forward to the 2024 European leg of our YES Classic Tales Tour. Having recently completed the US, we are now really excited to bring that out to all our fans in the UK and Europe. It promises to be one of our most interesting sets to date, scanning through much of YES’s history and with some previously unheard pieces as well as music from our latest album, ‘Mirror To The Sky’. Bring it on and see you all out there!" Best, Geoff Downes

Eclipsed Rock Magazin - #259 - April 2024

Tuesday, April 9, 2024 1:48 PM

YES 50 years of "Relayer" - More war than peace

April 8, 2024

The overkill of the pompous Yes double album “Tales From Topographic Oceans” had left wounds, which is why keyboardist Rick Wakeman left the prog flagship in May 1974. It was only late that an equal replacement was found in the form of the Swiss Patrick Moraz. With “Relayer”, they released a single album in the format of “Close To The Edge”, whose twenty-two minute “The Gates Of Delirium”, which is based on Tolstoy’s “War and Peace”, formed the centerpiece. Musically, Yes dared to explore even freer forms of expression and approached jazz fusion more aggressively than ever before. We shed light on the creation of this special Yes album, asked guitarist Steve Howe and artwork artist Roger Dean about it, as well as about the upcoming Yes tour and exhibition. In addition, we analyze the playing techniques of Rick Wakeman and Patrick Moraz.

August 1974. Perhaps the tires squealed when Yes manager Brian Lane almost accidentally ran over Patrick Moraz, who had just flown in, in the first week of August. Lane picked Moraz up to take him to the Farmyard Studio for an audition. The Swiss remembers: “I was on the way to rehearsals and Brian Lane almost ran over me in his car. It was late, it was raining, and he didn't recognize me." The collaboration with the new Yes keyboardist began so dramatically, whose time in the band was only to last for this one album. This was preceded by an arduous search for a replacement for the already legendary Rick Wakeman, who had made history in the golden cape.

1974 was still an extremely fruitful year for prog with albums like “Red” (King Crimson), “Crime Of The Century” (Supertramp) and “The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway” (Genesis), like those two or three Years before that represented the zenith of the experimental genre. Yes even climbed to the throne of the British album charts for the first time in December 1973 with “Tales From Topographic Oceans”. However, the overambitious double album with four twenty-minute long tracks (not all of which lived up to their promise) paved the way for the genre's decline in the second half of the 1970s. Since it turned out to be too esoteric, self-absorbed and self-indulgent, it slowly but surely turned critics and music fans against Yes and the excesses of prog. Someone who was there himself saw it the same way: Rick Wakeman decided with a heavy heart that he no longer wanted to take part in Yes's musical excursions in the future.

Star keyboardist leaves Yes mothership

Rick Wakeman had just released his solo album "Journey To The Center Of The Earth", which reached number 3 in the US charts and even shot to number 1 in the UK - just on Wakeman's twenty-fifth birthday. “When I left Yes it made me very sad. It was May 18, 1974. I was sitting all alone at home in Devon. In fact, it was my birthday. I had called the Yes office the day before and said that I had made up my mind... I wanted to go." This is how Rick Wakeman sums up his momentous decision, which he was able to afford due to his own success. This was preceded by a long period of discomfort. Wakeman had made no secret of his dissatisfaction with the material in Tales From Topographic Oceans, to which he had contributed little. He had already announced his focus on what he described as a “free jazz form” in the UK press: “Yes were moving towards avant-garde jazz rock, and I had nothing to offer there.” However, he later made it clear , that his criticism was directed at the fact that the song material had been unnecessarily blown up into a double album...

Johnny Sharp - Prog

Tuesday, April 9, 2024 12:40 PM

“The fans understood I was the price they had to pay to hear the band they loved, so they put up with me. It’s not like you’re joining the Sex Pistols”: Trevor Horn on fronting Yes – and how it later made 90125 possible

By Johnny Sharp

Prog #147
February 2024

Producer recalls making his colleagues feel “embarrassed and amused at the same time” as he begged them not to give up on Owner Of A Lonely Heart

Six decades into his career, Trevor Horn has released a third album under his own name. Echoes – Ancient & Modern finds the musician and superproducer infuse a second collection of reimagined pop songs with his magic. He discusses reworking 80s anthems with Steve Hogarth and Robert Fripp, the Yes years and why he loves nothing more than making mischief.

“I always try to put two things together that don’t normally fit,” says Trevor Horn by way of trying to sum up a hugely diverse career as producer, musician and songwriter. That would explain the latest release to bear his name, which sees a number of curious marriages of artists and repertoire on a new album of covers.

Who else would commission Toyah Willcox and her prog-aristocrat husband Robert Fripp to tackle Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s Relax? Or persuade Rick Astley to take on Yes’s 1980s prog-pop chartbuster, Owner Of A Lonely Heart? Elsewhere, Steve Hogarth offers his reading of The Cars’ haunting, Live Aid-associated lament Drive, alongside numerous other curious match-ups.

It’s a convenient jumping-off point from which to discuss a career that has been reliably unpredictable. He may be best-known to most as tThe now 74-year-old’s new project is Echoes – Ancient & Modern, something of a follow-up to his 2019 set Trevor Horn Reimagines The Eighties, which also featured Hogarth among the line-up and also included a take on Owner, on that occasion with Horn on the mic. The impetus behind it was Deutsche Grammophon.

“We were talking about doing an acoustic record,” Horn explains. “But then I thought, ‘There’s plenty of other people that can make boring acoustic records, and I don’t need to join them.’ So I went back to do what I normally do, and although quite a few of the songs start out quite sparse, they then build up into something else.”

he producer who helped define the 80s with a string of ingeniously engineered pop releases – while wearing none-more-80s horn-rimmed specs – but he also played a notable cameo role in the history of prog as singer, then producer, of Yes.

The now 74-year-old’s new project is Echoes – Ancient & Modern, something of a follow-up to his 2019 set Trevor Horn Reimagines The Eighties, which also featured Hogarth among the line-up and also included a take on Owner, on that occasion with Horn on the mic. The impetus behind it was Deutsche Grammophon.

“We were talking about doing an acoustic record,” Horn explains. “But then I thought, ‘There’s plenty of other people that can make boring acoustic records, and I don’t need to join them.’ So I went back to do what I normally do, and although quite a few of the songs start out quite sparse, they then build up into something else.”

A case in point being his bossa nova-tinged reimagining of Joe Jackson’s jazz-inflected 1982 synthpop hit Steppin’ Out, with Horn’s old protégé Seal fronting a less urgent affair than the original. “The original is very fast,” Horn says. “A bit like: ‘You’ve just done a line of blow and you’re going out in New York.’ This new version is more like: ‘You just took some magic mushrooms and are going out in LA.’”

More radical overhauls ensue, such as Tori Amos’s repurposing of Kendrick Lamar’s Swimming Pools and Lady Blackbird’s loungey torch-song interpretation of Grace Jones’s Slave To The Rhythm. But it’s Toyah and Fripp’s camp strut through Relax that’s probably the most startling moment, the result of Horn’s approach of ‘if it ain’t broke, fix it anyway and see what happens.’ “At least it’s different, you know?” he says. “And I love Fripp’s guitar solo on it.”

As a long-time Yes fan, was he also a King Crimson devotee in his formative years? “I really liked In The Court Of The Crimson King, and I liked Starless And Bible Black and Red; I bought both of those. Then, probably like a lot of people, I lost track of them for a while. But then I saw them a couple of years ago and I’d never heard such expertly orchestrated chaos in my life!

“I’ve got a lot of respect for Robert Fripp,” he adds, “because when he goes out on the road with his band, he really looks after them. And that’s quite a rarity for artists to be so considerate to their musicians.”

And there we were, imagining Fripp to be a schoolmasterly presence conducting his charges with ruthless precision, the prog answer to James Brown, rapping his band’s knuckles for the slightest hint of a bum note... Horn grins. “You’re confusing him with Roger Waters.”

OK, then. The storied producer’s appreciation of Steve Hogarth, who fronts Drive on this album and tackled Joe Jackson’s It’s Different For Girls on Trevor Horn Reimagines The Eighties, has been a recent development. “My girlfriend’s a big Marillion fan, and I’ve grown to like them too,” he reveals. “I’m kind of a connoisseur of voices and I think Steve’s got a great one. He’s also a lovely fella. I think one of the reasons Marillion are still going is because of him.”

The presence of Owner Of A Lonely Heart on both those albums is a reflection of its prominent place on Horn’s CV. The version of the track sung by Rick Astley is a relatively faithful rendition of the song; the Yes original was a masterpiece of progressive pop – even if its birth was a traumatic one to say the least. By that time, though, Horn had earned the respect of the band, after having previously been a full member – frontman, in fact, for a faintly surreal spell.

After he and Geoff Downes shot to brief fame as the Buggles via their deathless 1979 chart-topper Video Killed The Radio Star, the manager they shared with Yes, Brian Lane, had the startling idea of the pair replacing Jon Anderson and Rick Wakeman after the latter two had walked out of Yes during early studio sessions for Drama in March 1980.

As it turned out, it was something of a youthful dream come true. A bass player by trade, Horn had long been in awe of Chris Squire in particular. “I thought he came up with more original bass lines than any other player. The first time I met him was pretty memorable. He was so big, like 6’5” or something. And he had a way of talking, kiiiind of liiike thiiis... and I thought, ‘Oh my God! Is he thick?’ Of course, I was totally wrong. It was just a way he had of disarming people.”

Although the newcomer held his own creatively in the band, he always felt daunted by stepping up to the same mic as his predecessor. “Jon Anderson’s a hell of a singer, you know? He must have a range beyond mine. Still, it was one of the great experiences of my life. And what a moment, being in a rehearsal room and listening to Alan White, Chris Squire and Steve Howe play close up. I never heard anything like it. I mean, the intensity of it...”

Contrary to some accounts (Rick Wakeman once quoted Chris Squire as having told him it was “an absolute nightmare from start to finish” due to their fans’ adverse reactions), Horn doesn’t remember receiving much flak. “I think people were reasonably accepting. I think they understood that I was the price that they had to pay, you know, to hear the band they loved. So they put up with me. I mean, they’re a pretty civilised lot, Yes fans. It’s not like you’re joining the Sex Pistols!”

Yes splintered further after the tour, with Downes and Howe leaving to form Asia. Meanwhile, Horn met the increasing demand for his services as an innovative producer, helping to sculpt post-modern pop par excellence with Dollar and ABC while also mentoring a new Liverpool band called Frankie Goes To Hollywood, signed to his own label ZTT.

Around the same time, though, he was working with the band renamed Cinema by Squire and White, who had now hooked up with South African guitarist Trevor Rabin and original Yes keyboard player Tony Kaye. And when Anderson returned to the fold and they readopted the Yes name, Horn retained a significant creative input.

“I would never have been able to have the input I had as producer on 90125 if I hadn’t previously been in the band,” he says now. “They kept trying not to do Owner Of A Lonely Heart. One day, when I got to the studio, there was a deputation waiting for me saying, ‘We’ve all decided that we’re not doing it.’

“I got on my hands and knees on the floor, pulled at everybody’s trouser legs and made a noise and shouted, ‘Pleeease pleeease, please have one more go. Let me programme the drums! It’s got to be simple. It’s just got to go, “Boom, chick, boom boom, boom boom” – it can’t go “doo de doop dook doop, doo dook, chick chick doop boof...”’ like everything we’d been trying.

“I made such a fuss, saying, ‘I only took this album because you said you’d do this single!’ They were so embarrassed – and maybe amused at the same time – by my display that eventually, they grudgingly agreed to have one more go. This time, programming it. I could never have done that if I hadn’t been in the band.

“At the time I took that job on I was probably one of the most successful producers in the world. And I would never have worked with Yes again if I hadn’t loved them, because they were a pain in the neck! But, when I listen to that record now, I am so glad I did it because they were also fuckin’ brilliant, you know?

“Alan, the drummer, all that stuff he did with the samples in the middle of Owner Of A Lonely Heart. A talented musician is a talented musician, it doesn’t matter if he’s on a sampler or a fucking banjo. And they were great, Chris and Alan. Trevor Rabin was no slouch either; he played all the keyboards and all the guitars.”

That wasn’t the end of the conflict surrounding that landmark single – Horn walked out on the project for around six weeks in a stand-off over a snare sound in the final mix, until legendary producer Ahmet Ertegun stepped in on his side and demanded the band reinstate Horn’s version.

But that’s a story for another day. Fast-forward to the present, and while we await the verdict of Horn’s former bandmates on Rick Astley’s version of Owner, another guest from the prog world who is set to feature on a bonus track on forthcoming expanded editions of the album is King Crimson’s Jakko Jakszyk. He takes on Visage’s 1980 synthpop noir classic Fade To Grey. “We changed it quite drastically,” is all Horn will say about that one, joking, “because the original was quite sketchy.”

Meanwhile, the musician in Trevor Horn still keeps his hand in. The band he formed as Producers in 2006 with Lol Creme and initially Chris Braide, which made 2012’s very tidy prog pop album Made In Basing Street, is now The Trevor Horn Band, and Horn reports that the LP is to be reissued at some point this year. “We’re talking about maybe doing a couple of shows together. I’ve got to try and persuade Lol...”

He has also toured recently with tribute act Dire Straits Legacy, and admits that being onstage is a very different thrill to the buzz he gets from his studio work. “Performing is like instant gratification,” he says. “You have total control in the studio; live, it’s a car crash and when it actually works it feels kind of like a minor miracle.”

He even opened for Seal recently alongside erstwhile Yes colleague Geoff Downes as Buggles, and in their set was Owner Of A Lonely Heart and Horn’s Art Of Noise hit Close To The Edit. That title’s reference to his former band was probably lost on pop-pickers in the 80s. But that’s Horn all over.

“I like to make a bit of mischief sometimes,” he says with a grin. You can take the boy out of prog.

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Johnny is a regular contributor to Prog and Classic Rock magazines, both online and in print. Johnny is a highly experienced and versatile music writer whose tastes range from prog and hard rock to R’n’B, funk, folk and blues. He has written about music professionally for 30 years, surviving the Britpop wars at the NME in the 90s (under the hard-to-shake teenage nickname Johnny Cigarettes) before branching out to newspapers such as The Guardian and The Independent and magazines such as Uncut, Record Collector and, of course, Prog and Classic Rock.

Chris Catchpole - Mojo

Friday, January 26, 2024 2:39 PM

Jon Anderson Interviewed: “I still think I’m part of Yes”

Jon Anderson speaks to MOJO about the possibility of a Yes reunion and his new project with Fraiser star Kelsey Grammar

By Chris Catchpole | Published January 25, 2024

Speaking in the latest issue of MOJO, Jon Anderson has revealed that the door is open for a reunion with his former Yes bandmates Rick Wakeman and Steve Howe.

“I was talking to [Anderson’s current touring band] The Band Geeks and said, Hopefully we can play in London and Steve will get up and do a couple of songs with us, maybe Rick too…” Anderson tells MOJO’s Mark Blake. “It just means talking. When I’m out there singing on my own I still think I’m part of Yes. They still feel like my songs.”

Although he has previously toured with Wakeman in 2010 and 2017, Anderson hasn’t worked with Howe or under the Yes banner since the band’s 35th anniversary tour in 2004

“We’re still friends but we’re not connected,” says Anderson. “The first time I realised it wasn’t going to continue was when I discovered you could send MP3s on the computer. So I e-mailed Steve and Chris, saying, Why don’t we send music to each other – we’re on the same planet? And they never replied. Maybe they never got the e-mail.”

Chances of a reunion of the classic ‘70s Yes line-up passed with the deaths of founding bassist Chris Squire in 2015 and drummer Alan White in 2022.

“Life is full of experiences and meeting people, and you look back and think, I used to know him so well, but not anymore,” reflects Anderson of his former bandmates. “Alan was best man at my wedding [to second wife, Jane, in 1997]. I’ve had dreams about them both. I was in Maui when I dreamt about an angel pointing upwards and there was Chris looking up into the sky with tears running down his face. I found out the following day he’d left the earth.”

Elsewhere in the interview, Anderson recalls getting signed to Virgin at the same time as prog rocker turned pop star, Phil Collins and how he might be reviving a shelved solo project into a musical with Fraiser star Kelsey Grammar.

“I met Richard Branson on his boat and he signed me the same week they signed Phil Collins. All of a sudden there’s Phil making Face Value, one of the greatest solo albums of all time, and Virgin are sending two punks with dyed black hair and eye make-up down to the south of France to see what I was doing,” says Anderson.

“[I was] writing music for an album about the great [French-Russian] artist Marc Chagall, and another piece based on a book called A True Fairy Tale by Daphne Charters. These guys didn’t like what they were hearing. There was nothing wrong with the music, but they just weren’t interested. I said, OK, but this is what I want to do. So I paid the advance back. I’m working on it again, though, and we’re looking at a possible musical or film, The Story Of Chagall. [Frasier actor] Kelsey Grammar is interested and has talked about directing it.”

“There was me speeding away like a lunatic – Come on everybody, let’s try this!” Pick up the latest issue of MOJO to read the interview in full and hear more about Yes’ musical explorations, the time Vangelis almost replaced Rick Wakeman in the band and how Anderson nearly abandoned music to play for his beloved Accrington Stanley FC.

More info and to order a copy HERE: [Link]

Andy Greene - Rolling Stone

Sunday, January 14, 2024 3:20 PM

UNKNOWN LEGENDS

This Prog Rock Wizard Has Kept Yes Alive for the Past 30 Years
Billy Sherwood took on the impossible job of replacing bassist Chris Squire in Yes in 2015, but his role in the band goes back decades earlier

BY ANDY GREENE

JANUARY 14, 2024

Rolling Stone interview series Unknown Legends features long-form conversations between senior writer Andy Greene and veteran musicians who have toured and recorded alongside icons for years, if not decades. All are renowned in the business, but some are less well known to the general public. Here, these artists tell their complete stories, giving an up-close look at life on music’s A list. This edition features backup bassist Billy Sherwood.

If you saw Yes on the 1994 Talk tour and then again anytime during the past seven years, you were essentially seeing two different bands. The only musician in both incarnations of the band is prog wizard Billy Sherwood. He was a utility player on the Talk tour that stood unobtrusively near the back of the stage, helping out on rhythm guitar, percussion, and keyboard. And he returned to the fold in 2015 for the near-impossible task of replacing the late Chris Squire on bass.

For the 58-year-old, whose love of Yes goes back to his childhood in the Seventies, the gig remains a dream job even after all these years. “It’s a blessing and I don’t take it for granted,” Sherwood tells Rolling Stone via Zoom from his home in Las Vegas. “There are nights onstage where I look over at Steve [Howe] when we’re playing a song like ‘Going for the One’ and I’ll think, ‘How many times did I listen to that record as a kid?’ I’d play it over and over and think to myself, ‘How is he doing those guitars parts?’ And now I can see how he’s doing it every night.”

Sherwood has been in show business as far back as he can remember since he’s the child of big band leader Bobby Sherwood and singer/drummer Phyllis Dorne. He grew up in Las Vegas where his parents spent their nights headlining in the Landmark, the Sahara, the New Frontier, the Dunes, and other casinos across the town. “The town was really like the [Martin Scorsese movie] Casino back then,” he says. “One of my earliest memories is playing with my Hot Wheels cars underneath my dad’s grand piano in the living room while he was rehearsing with my mother and his Dixieland jazz band. They were working all the time.”

He was originally drawn to R&B acts like Earth, Wind & Fire and Chaka Khan. “My first concert was Earth, Wind & Fire at the Sahara Hotel,” he says. “It was the original lineup, and they just blew my mind as a young kid. My brother Michael actually had tickets to see Yes on the Relayer tour that night. He said, ‘You’ve got to come with me.’ I said, ‘I think I’m going to see Earth, Wind & Fire.'”

The next day, Michael’s childhood buddy Jimmy Haun came over. They told Billy he made a big mistake missing out on the concert, and they played him Close to the Edge in its entirety. “I said, ‘I don’t get what you guys see in this,'” he says. “‘This is confusing and chaotic.'” But the music stuck in his head. A couple of days later, he asked to hear it again. “From that moment on forward, I just became a lifelong devoted Yes fan,” says Sherwood. “They became my favorite band. Jimmy and Michael led me into all those other progressive things that were out there to discover. And once I started going down that path, I just never looked back.”

Sherwood’s parents divorced when he was a teenager. He moved to L.A. to live with his mother. She’d taught him how to play drums, hoping he’d follow in her footsteps. By that point, Haun and his brother Michael had put together the rock group Lodgic. Billy sat in on their early rehearsals. “Jimmy kept stopping me since the drums were too loud for them,” he says. “He said, ‘Get rid of the drum kit and buy a bass. I’ll show you some stuff. And play along to Yes records. It’ll help you a lot.'” [Haun became an accomplished prog rock guitarist that played on the 1991 Yes album Union.]

Sherwood joined Lodgic as their bass player, never even contemplating a career outside of music. “My brother was a musician and he went on tour with Tony Orlando when I was a younger,” Sherwood says. “He also had his own band with Lodgic and they would play at various Vegas hotels and revues where they served as the house band. I just never questioned it. I knew it was the path for me.”

Lodgic toured hard throughout the early Eighties and opened for Supertramp at a handful of California shows, but they dissolved after their 1985 LP Nomadic Sands failed to find an audience, and their label dropped them. In the aftermath, Sherwood formed the new group World Trade and signed a publishing deal with Warner Bros. Their demos captured the attention of former Gentle Giant singer Derek Shulman, who was working an A&R job for Polydor. “Derek played the demos to Chris Squire,” says Sherwood. “He said, ‘Check out this band I’m signing. They kind of have a Yes vibe.'”

The timing was fortuitous since Yes were in the midst of a civil war with Squire, drummer Alan White, keyboardist Tony Kaye, and guitarist Trevor Rabin on one side, and singer Jon Anderson, guitarist Steve Howe, drummer Bill Bruford, and keyboardist Rick Wakeman on the other. The latter team was touring and recording under the moniker Anderson Bruford Wakeman Howe. The other side informally called themselves Yes West since they were stationed on the West Coast of America. They were in need of a singer.

Shulman told Sherwood that Squire wanted to meet up for dinner. “I said, ‘Oh my God, are you serious? He’s like my hero. Of course,'” Sherwood says. “So Chris and I went to this fancy restaurant in L.A. and we had an amazing time. And he said, ‘Do you want to get together and write a song and see what happens?'”

It was the beginning of Sherwood’s four-decade saga in the Yes universe that continues to this day. Along the way, he’d join the Chris Squire Experiment and Asia, work with Toto and Motörhead, record a prog rock record with William Shatner, cut tribute albums to Queen, Pink Floyd, the Beatles, and Queen, ultimately becoming the only person besides Squire to play bass in Yes since the group’s formation in 1969.

What happened after that first dinner with Squire?
We got together shortly after that and we wrote a song called “The More We Live – Let Go,” which is on the Union album. That was the first song we wrote together, and it was a really good one. Chris and I looked at each other after and said, “Well, this is going somewhere. Do you want to continue this relationship?” Which we did. During that period, we wrote other songs that have ended up on the Yesyears box set, including “Love Conquers All” and “Say Goodbye.”

But during this period, what I didn’t realize was they were really courting me to become the lead singer of Yes. And that kind of started gaining speed and it started becoming an idea that the label was into, and the lawyers were into and the managers and the band, and everyone was into this concept, except for me. I just didn’t want to do it.

Why?
I was young and I’d just made my first album. I also knew in my heart that Jon Anderson would be coming back eventually. So why am I going to step in front of this train and just get completely mowed down once that takes place?

I told Chris, “I dig you. You’re my hero, you’re now my friend, but as far as a career goes, this isn’t something that I want to pursue.” And sure enough, months later, he said, “You were right. This is coming around. We are putting together the Super Yes.”

They were also talking to Roger Hodgson of Supertramp about possibly taking the job too, right?
Yes. They were talking to Robbie Nevil too. I said to Chris, “Can’t I be involved in another capacity?” Which I ended up being in terms of a songwriter and playing on those songs that are now on those records, which I’m really proud of, but it just wasn’t in the cards in my head. That was not where fate was taking me at the end of the day and I just felt that strongly.

A few years later, you were in the Chris Squire Experiment.
The Chris Squire Experiment was the beginning of what turned into ultimately Conspiracy, which was me and Chris at the core. But that was a blast. That tour was so much fun because we played all kinds of cool music, original things, some Yes stuff. Chris even let me do a double bass solo with him. I remember thinking, “How the hell did I end up onstage doing a double bass thing with my favorite bass player on the planet?”

You somehow worked with both Toto and Motörhead in 1992. Those are two real extremes in the rock world.
Yeah. I also worked with Paul Rodgers on his Muddy Waters tribute album Muddy Waters Blues as a producer. The album was nominated for a Grammy. It kicked up enough dust that I started having credibility as as producer. One thing led to another and I found myself working with Matt and Motörhead. Lemmy was an experience that is very hard to describe, but one that I cherish.

How did you wind up touring with Yes in 1994?
The first person who called me up was [Yes guitarist] Trevor Rabin. I was quite surprised. I said to him, “Yeah, I’d love to do it. Are you kidding?” I was hired as a multi-instrumentalist. I played keys, guitar, percussion, I sang, and I played bass. When we played “Endless Dream,” Chris called me to the front of the stage to play double bass with him. He played an octave, and I played an octave under him on five-string. It was an amazing moment every night. And then I’d go back up to my station and play guitar and play keys and sing.

I really, really enjoyed doing that tour. And it was my first major tour and it was a really good one. It was also my first experience dealing with Yes politics on the ground up close and personal, which was an education as well.

It was a really interesting time for the band. “Owner of a Lonely Heart” came out just 11 years earlier, but it might as well have been 111 years. The rock scene had changed in so many ways.
Yeah. The genre had changed, but Yes has always been a constant through all those changes because it stayed true to itself. I mean, we were playing Madison Square Garden, so I couldn’t complain. I was like, “If it gets better than this, that would be great. But this is fine for me.”

What did you mean about learning about Yes politics on that tour?
Well, it’s no secret that they broke up right after that tour. And so needless to say, without getting into any of the details, I saw what was happening and why it was happening and where it was leading to. And it was disturbing to me as a Yes fan to watch. But I understood as a musician how this business works, that the groove is a delicate thing. It was fracturing, and I could see it.

When we got off the plane at the end of the tour at LAX, no one really said goodbye to anyone. Everyone walked their separate ways. And I thought, “Wow, so that’s that. I guess I go back to my civilian life now.” It was just bizarre. But, yeah, I saw a lot of things that were life-changing in terms of understanding how Yes works and really seeing behind the magic curtain, as they say.

It still must have been surreal to play in your favorite band every night.
Yes. And every time I’ve ever interacted with Yes, I never sought it out. It seemed to come at me. In other words, I got the call, “Do you want to meet Chris Squire?” “Yeah, sure.” And I got the call, “Do you want to come tour?” “Yeah, definitely.” And every time that I’d have an intersection with them, when it was over, I would think, “Oh my God. Well, I’m honored and blessed and amazed that that happened and I’m good.”

And then I’d go back to my life doing things and then the phone would ring and there’d be another opportunity. And so it was shortly after that when the 90125 lineup broke up officially that they reformed what they call, the classic Yes lineup.

This is when Trevor Rabin and Tony Kaye left, Steve Howe and Rick Wakeman returned, and they cut Keys to Ascension.
Yeah. My buddy Tom Fletcher engineered the live recordings of Keys to Ascension. And I guess he was busy doing something else, and he couldn’t mix the record. So Squire calls me and says, “Look, do you want to mix this record for us, because Tom can’t do it?” And I said, “Yeah, I’d love to do that. Why don’t you come to my studio?” I had a big studio in L.A. at the time.

The band was really happy with what I did. And shortly after that, I got a call from Chris. He said, “Look, we’re going to make a second Keys to Ascension record, but it’s going to be a studio record. We’d like you to produce it, and we’ll do it at the studio.” And I thought, “Wow. Yeah, definitely. For sure.”

Here I was sitting there with the classic lineup thinking, “Oh my God, I’ve got the Tormato lineup in my studio. I love this.” But I was never thinking I’ve got to join this band. So we made Keys to Ascension II, which I think is a really cool record, “Mind Drive” and some of the other songs on there are quite good.

One day the phone rings in the studio and Jon answers it. I said, “Is everything okay?” He goes, “Well, Rick just quit.” And I thought, “Oh my God, I’ve not even done mixing this record yet.”

What happened next?
Jon split, and it’s just me and Chris sitting there sort of in shock. And I said, “Well, what do we do?” Chris said, “Let’s finish mixing this record.” And so we finished mixing the record, but now me being a Yes fan, it was in my heart and my soul that I felt like, “Oh my God, I’m a diehard and this band can’t end in my studio. This would be tragic.”

So I said to Chris, “What can we do here, man? We can’t just watch this thing end. Do you want to write some things and just see what happens?” And he said, “Yeah, let’s do that.” So we started writing with the notion that perhaps this could be Yes, but in the event it’s not, at least we’re heading towards a Conspiracy record and we’ll have material.

This was the start of Open Your Eyes.
Among Yes fans, I know that is a contentious record. You either dig it or you don’t. There’s no middle ground. But we wrote this material and called up Alan to come play on it. That took everything to another level. And then Jon heard what we were doing. He went, “Oh my God, this is great. I want to sing on this. Send me the tapes.”

How about Steve?
Steve was a little apprehensive at first because he was like, “I’m in England and I don’t understand what’s happening here.” And Chris was kind of the ambassador of goodwill there and was saying, “Look, we’re evolving. We’re changing. We’re just trying to keep the band going here.” And one thing leads to another. We’ve got an album. And there’s no record company at this point. I own the studio, and I funded the project since we’re at my studio and we’re making an album. I played keyboards on some of the songs.

Was there talk of you playing keyboards on the tour?
No way. A man’s got to know his limitations. And that was it for me. I said, “I’ve played a lot of rhythm guitar on this record, and Steve’s done all the leads. I’m happy to just play rhythm guitar.” And they said, “That’s kind of a good idea. Let’s get a keyboard player.” So it’s at that point that Jon Anderson found Igor Khoroshev, who was a fantastic keyboard player, and we had a lineup.

They asked me to join the band. It was at that point that I really thought, “Oh my goodness, this life is just tripping me out. Because I’m now a member of my favorite band.”

How was your role on that tour different than your role on the Talk tour?
On the Talk tour, I had a station with multiple instruments. So it was a bit different than when I was just standing there playing guitar all night. And I don’t think it’s a mystery that there was tension between Steve and Trevor back in those days. They’ve sorted it out a long time ago now, but back then it was kind of tense. Steve was really not interested in playing a lot of the 90125-era material that the band was still playing at that point.

We would start rehearsing and Steve would say, “I just don’t want to play that part of the song.” And Jon Anderson pointed at me and said, “Well, then he’ll play it.” I was thinking, “I don’t want to play it. I’m happy to play rhythm.” So I’d say, “Steve, play it.” He said, “No, I’m not interested.” So I ended up playing a lot of the solos from those eras.

They made The Ladder next and brought in Bruce Fairbairn to produce it.
The band said to me, “Look, now that you’re in this, we need you to be on the other side of the glass with us when we’re recording and let someone else take the wheel to produce and engineer.” And I said, “I understand that completely.”

Bruce was a happening producer. We went up to Vancouver and wrote that record together in this old church that we rented for quite a while. We wrote it all together and put it all together and played it live in the studio together for the most part, with the exception of a few overdubs here and there. And then we went out and toured that and had a very successful run.

Why did you leave in 2000?I felt like I had done as much as I could in terms of my participation, and there was a lot of tension at that point in the band. I always had a sixth sense about what was coming for Yes, like Squire used to call “the crystal ball.” And I could see that the classic lineup was reforming. I could just see it on the horizon coming and I got out of the way of that train. It’s similar to why I didn’t take the gig in the first place as the lead singer. I just knew that this version with Igor over there and me onstage was going to change.

So I stepped out of it in 2000, and I had an amazing opportunity to go work with, ironically, the other producer of Union, who was Jonathan Elias. He was a really talented musician, producer, and also the owner of one of the most prestigious, popular jingle houses that there was at the time in L.A. and New York, Elias Arts.

I did the jingle thing for about two years. And honestly, not that well, because I don’t work so well in 30-second chunks. When you’ve been working on progressive rock music where the criteria is, “How long is it?” to trim that down to a 30-second jingle or four notes is tricky. And I just didn’t have the flare for that. I landed a few car commercials and some Nintendo ads and stuff, but I wasn’t hitting the bell as hard as the other guys in there.

I did that for a couple of years and then decided, “I’m going to go back to what I know and love, and that’s making records with people and artists and bands.”

Tony Kaye told me you pulled him out of retirement.
I did. Right after that jingle period, I started working with this record company in L.A. called Purple Pyramid. I did that Paul Rodgers album with so many big name guest on it like David Gilmour, Slash, Steve Miller, and Buddy Guy. That record opened the eyes for other labels. They said to me, “Can you do that same thing for me? Can you take that model and redo music, but bring in other icons and create a new album that way?”

I said, “Yeah, let’s do it.” So we started making those kind of records. One of them was a remake of Pink Floyd’s The Wall. I invited Tony Kaye to play and pulled him out of retirement.

How did you wind up making a prog record with William Shatner?
Same record company and same concept. I’m sitting there in my studio and the phone rings and it’s Brian from the label, and he says, “Hey, I’ve got a record I’m thinking I want you to work on.” I said, “Who’s that?” He said, “William Shatner.” I said, “I’m in.” Then I hung the phone up and I thought, “Wow, how do you do this?”

We know how Shatner is and what he does, and it’s beautiful. So I thought, “There’s a way to do this. I can use the Pink Floyd model where I could be the calm, soothing voice of a David Gilmour to his speech and dialogue where he takes on the Roger Waters side.

You played a couple of gigs with him where Tony Kaye was on keyboards. It’s fantastically nerdy to merge Star Trek with Yes like that.
Oh my God. I’ve always said to my friends who asked me, “How was that?” I said, “When you stand on a stage and you look over to the right and your lead singer is Captain Kirk, that’s pretty cool.” I’ve never spoken about Star Trek with Shatner and I never will because I know it’s the last thing he wants to talk about, but I do have him in my phone as “Captain Kirk.”

Did you stay close to Chris Squire during these years you were out of Yes?Yeah. Chris and I were very close through the whole thing. We had one period where we had a slight falling-out over something silly; we didn’t talk to each other for quite a while. But we always knew that one day we’d figure it out. And I’m so glad that we did, because having lost him now, I would’ve been just devastated if we hadn’t sorted that out.

Tell me about the last time you saw him.
I was making my solo album Citizen. I invited him to play on it. I drove out to Scottsdale, Arizona, to record him with my portable studio. He was still Chris. He’s still huge, and playing his ass off and just nailing it.

We went to this super posh restaurant afterwards where choreographed waiters drop the plates at the same time. I said to Chris, “Where did you take me? How much is this costing?” He goes, “Don’t worry about it, Billy. Just enjoy yourself.”

We had a lot of wine and really great food with his wife and daughter. We were laughing and reminiscing like normal. But the next day I get home and Chris calls me. He goes, “We’re doing this tour and Toto is coming with us.” I go, “Cool. I love Toto. You’re going to have a great time.”

He goes, “I’ve got to deal with some medical stuff and I’m not going to be able to do it.” And I said, “Are you okay?” He goes, “Yeah, I’m okay. I just got to deal with this, and it’s just the timing’s bad.” And he says, “We’re not going to do the tour, I guess. And that really is troubling for me because the fans have already bought tickets and I don’t want to let them down. And we’ve got the crew who rely on the work, and I don’t want to let them down.”

I said, “I understand all that and I appreciate it, but you’re Chris Squire. They’re just going to have to wait. Go get your health in order.”

So he calls me the next day and he basically says the same thing. Then he calls me the day after that and I start to get irritated. I go, “Chris, what the hell? Call them and tell them you can’t do the tour.” And he says, “Billy, you’re just not getting it — I want you to do this tour for me.” I was absolutely stunned and…[breaks down] I’m sorry.

That must have been emotional.[Sighs] It’s heartbreaking to think about this stuff. I was in shock. I didn’t understand the depth of his medical issue. So I said, “If this is what you need me to do, of course, I’m going to do it, man. But you’ve got to make a statement in the press. I don’t want it coming out that you’re dealing with some medical issues, and I took your gig.”

He did wind up making a statement. But five minutes after that phone call, his wife Scotland called me. And she says, “Billy, he’s not telling you the full truth here. He’s got a very rare form of leukemia, and we’ve got to get him into the hospital ASAP. He’s got to start treatment.”

And then I was absolutely emotionally just devastated. Chris calls me back and says, “Well, I guess she told you, didn’t she? I’ll knock this on the head, but I’ll be back. Don’t get too comfortable there.”

We started talking all the time. I was trying to psychologically empower him to get through this. The conversations got deeper and heavier, stuff I don’t want to really go on record here. I could sense the end was near.

About 10 days before the tour started, something like that, I was taking a morning walk. I started getting this weird feeling on it. And when I came back, I checked my email and I just saw one from the manager. The subject line was “Chris.” I sat there for a minute, afraid to open it. And then I hit open, and that’s when I got the news that Chris died this morning. I was absolutely devastated.

I can’t even imagine.It took a long time to get over. The biggest loss for me at the time was losing my dad. That was a long time ago, but that was the most painful thing to feel. This was hitting me very, very hard. And it was really difficult to get over. And it was even more difficult to think, “Oh my God, in ten days, I’ve got to go stand onstage and perform. How am I going to live up to this? This is the best bass player on the planet, and if this doesn’t work…It’s all on my shoulders.”

I did my best to get my act together and got onstage and performed the stuff. I found some way to do it respectfully and in a way to honor Chris as best I could. But that first tour was very difficult because there were moments where I’d look out there and think, “How the hell has this happened in my life?”

There was a part of me that felt extremely guilty for being there at all, because this should be where Chris is. And then the joy to play this amazing music, and intense sorrow to have to play this music that I loved…It was the strangest double-edged sword.

There were some nights I’d play the simplest little thing, like the bridge of “Owner of a Lonely Heart,” and I’d just lose it. I put my head down and just turned around and started walking back towards Alan because I did not want the audience to see me crying on stage.

That was the general vibe through that whole tour. It was hard to try to find the balance. And then as things evolved, I start saying to myself, “Chris wanted me to do this. He didn’t want me crying onstage.” I slowly turned the corner, but that entire first tour is probably the hardest tour I’ve ever done.

Then you had to watch Alan get to a point where he was only to play a few songs a night.
Alan was an amazing source of inspiration and power and a shoulder to lean on for me during that period, because my relationship with Chris tied me into my relationship with Alan by proxy because they were so close that whenever I was there with Chris, I was there with Alan. He was an ally and a buddy for many, many, many years and remained so open until the end.

Jay Schellen has done a really good job filling his shoes.
Like me, Jay was also a diehard Yes fan. That’s why we’ve been bros for so long. When we first met back in the day, I said to Jay before he played a note, “Who’s your favorite drummer?” And he says, “Alan White.” And I said, “I think we’re going to have a really good relationship.”

Jay has found that way of honoring Alan that’s really respectful. But Jay also had a hard time when we lost Alan, as we all did, and still do. There’s so many moments where we’re on the road that have nothing to do with being onstage. We’ll just be at an airport where we used to gather and have a cocktail before the flight, and the silly rituals we would go through are no longer there, so we’re creating new ones. But yeah, it’s life. It’s tough.

How did you feel about the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame? It was a weird time since there were two competing versions of Yes at that point. They had to come together and play. And I know Tony was upset you weren’t inducted.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t upset because Chris Squire wanted me to be there, and someone else was playing bass with them that night. Now, mind you that someone else is Geddy Lee. So I have no problem with him. He’s a monster.

Let me start by saying where we started, back in the day, where I learned Yes politics, those politics were alive and kicking. Things were very tense. It’s no mystery. I wouldn’t be sharing a state secret by letting you know that.

I wanted to dodge any bullets. As soon as I heard what was going on, I retracted my own self and said, “Look, not going to do it. Figure it out another way. I don’t want to be involved in that. It’s too intense.”

So they finally resolve who’s going to play bass. I find out it’s Geddy Lee, and I’m like, “That’s awesome, loving that.” So there we are in the green room before the show, and I’ve never met Geddy before, but I’m a huge fan. I walk up to him and I say, “Hey, Geddy, Billy Sherwood, so nice to meet you, man. I’m a huge fan.” And his first words, he says, “Why aren’t you doing this?” And I looked at him and I said, “You know how bad band politics can be, don’t you?” He goes, “Yeah.” I said, “Nail it, bro. That’s all I’m saying.”

So I took a backseat, and [keyboardist] Geoff Downes took a backseat. Tony Kaye took a backseat, which is crazy because he was there when the band started. But we all have our reasons. But at the same time, I was proud to be watching my favorite band finally be inducted into Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, which was a long time coming. And I thought to myself, “I’m not up there playing with them, but I am playing with them tomorrow night at wherever the hell we were playing.” So it was good.

The Quest and Mirror to the Sky are both really strong records. They show how this new lineup has really gelled.
I think so too. I’m proud of the evolution. We knew that making a new album too close to Chris’s death was just not cool. It was not the right thing to even be thinking about. But as time passes and you heal and you put everything into their perspectives, the idea of a new record came about. It just seemed like the right thing to do.

I almost felt that Chris was watching over my shoulder and pushing me the right direction. And when it came time to compose the bass parts for “The Western Edge,” for example,” I was picturing Steve next to me going, “Yeah, there it is there. That’s not it. That part’s good. Tweak that.”

I saw you guys late last year in Jersey. It was very cool seeing you break out songs like “Don’t Kill the Whale” and “Machine Messiah.” There were some nice surprises in there.
It was really challenging. That one riff of “Machine Messiah,” it’s just frightening. Every time that we hit that section, as I’m watching Geoff do it, I’m thinking, “Damn, I have to play this in about 30 seconds,” and I just go out there and hope for the best. It’s tricky stuff. Good set though.

Do you see a scenario where Yes could continue even after Steve retires?
Oh, boy. I don’t even know if I like talking about that. What can I say? The band evolves and has gone through some incredibly difficult transitions, and here we are. That’s really all I can say to that because I don’t want to forecast anything on this front, except to say that Steve is super healthy and his spirit is so high and lifted and inspired.

We’re making a new album as we speak. When was the last time Yes made so many albums in a row in such a short period of time? That’s driven by Steve’s inspiration to produce it and to go forward. He enjoys touring. He loves playing this music live.

Is Asia still an ongoing thing?
Yeah. Asia is still a thing. We were supposed to tour last year, but we got a little bit sidetracked because Alan Parsons, who we were going to tour with, had some medical issues. So the tour got canceled, unfortunately. But I know Geoff’s into it, and I’m into it, so we’ll just have to see where things go.

That’s another situation that I never imagined in a million years would happen to me. I got the phone call saying, “John Wetton is sick and not going to be able to tour, will you take his spot?” Wetton is one of my heroes. I produced Raised in Captivity, his solo record, and we co-wrote it together. We spent a lot of time together, so we got close during that period.

I was honored to step into his role. We did a tour with Journey that went really well. We’ve vowed to move forward in some capacity once we have the opportunity and the time and the calendars open to do such a thing.

Do you think it’s possible that Jon and Steve will ever perform together again?
That’s a question for those guys, and I’m not going to get anywhere near that one. I don’t know. You see what goes on out there in the Yes community. I don’t know of a band that’s got a fan base more divided in ways that just confuse me. That’s because at the end of the day, the music is what matters.

I am maybe the one member of Yes who’s actually experienced playing with different lineups of the band. All the other guys, they know their experience. But I have a unique experience, and it tells me that you never know in this band what’s what.

But that being said, I know that this current lineup is gelling really, really well together as far as the personalities and the music that we’re making and the music that we’re playing. I know Steve, at this point in his life, is a big advocate of keeping things simple and keeping things happy and content. We have breakfast on the road together often, Steve and I, and we don’t talk about music. We just talk about life, family things, politics, whatever.

You can sense on the road if a band’s going to see each other next year, let’s just put it that way. We all look very much forward to working a lot together more. So that’s all I can say to that.

I guess that wraps it up nicely. Thanks for taking so much time. Your memory for detail is pretty amazing.
Well, when it comes to Yes, it’s hard to forget.

Meurig Bowen - BBC Music Magazine

Thursday, August 8, 2024 8:49 AM

What happens when classical music-style levels of ambition, invention and sheer length are brought to pop? The answer, as Meurig Bowen explains, is Prog Rock.

From BBC Music Magazine
August 2024

Harmonic Progression

‘Everyone knows rock music achieved perfection in 1974: it’s ‘Everyone a scientific fact.’ These are the wise words of Homer Simpson, no less. And while he may well have been thinking of all sorts of other kinds of rock music – album releases that year from The Who, Queen, The Rolling Stones or David Bowie – I like to think he was referring to the high water mark, 50 years ago, of that most unique of species: Progressive Rock. Or, to use its ugly abbreviation, Prog.

Instead of being Glam, Hard, Soft or Bluesy, this largely British sub-genre grew out of Sgt. Pepper and psychedelia in the late 1960s and flourished globally for a few years before its snarling, consciously primal antipode, Punk, conspired (with only partial success) to snuff it out in time for the Queen’s Silver Jubilee in 1977.

Outstanding craftsmanship and technical gifts were a necessary match for the music’s adventurous spirit
From my first teenage encounters, I knew that this was the ‘pop music’ which shared the ambition, breadth and drama of classical music. Here was the same rich harmonic vocabulary and technical mastery, a rhythmic sophistication that went far beyond four beats in a bar, a searching pursuit of extended structures and the same textural breadth that ranged from delicately intimate to floor-shakingly explosive.

With the help of iconic album cover artwork from the likes of Roger Dean (Yes) and Storm Thorgerson/Hipgnosis (Pink Floyd/Genesis), the music has a very particular look, evoking an era of loon pants, lank long hair and the wafting clouds of perfumed joints. As a result, some of it fares badly from being locked into that period and sounds badly dated now – consigned, with the assistance of elapsed time, to the category of barely listened to and the second-rate. Just as there are a lot of Vanhals and Wagenseils for every Haydn and Mozart, the Prog giants like Genesis, Pink Floyd and Yes have their Caravans and Gentle Giants in their rear view too.

Progressive influences are present in sibling contemporaries. Some say, for example, that because of their broader, more varied canvases, ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ is Queen’s proggiest moment, ‘Stairway to Heaven’ Led Zeppelin’s and ‘Fool’s Overture’ Supertramp’s. There is a more composed, proto-minimalist aspect to Mike Oldfield’s ‘Tubular Bells’ or Tangerine Dream’s extended synthscapes. Via trace elements in anything from Kate Bush to Radiohead, Prog lives on decades later in bands like Porcupine Tree and Big Big Train, or the burgeoning tribute band scene. But if we are thinking about what was happening back in 1974 or thereabouts, in the studio or in concert, the essence of Progressive Rock at its very best is defined by the work of just 20-or-so young men – yes, they were all men – in just a handful of bands.

Outstanding craftsmanship and technical gifts were a necessary match for the music’s adventurous spirit. There was the dexterity and distinctively stylish sound of guitarists David Gilmour, Steve Hackett, Steve Howe and Robert Fripp. There was the outrageous facility and precision of jazz-honed drummers Phil Collins and Bill Bruford (who played with Yes, King Crimson and – briefly on tour – Genesis). And then there were the keyboardists.

If many associate rock music with the dominating forces of strutting singer and scene stealing guitarist, the larger appeal of Prog for many has always been the relative importance of those sat at the Hammond, Mellotron or synth. Genesis would be nothing without the bedrock of Tony Banks’s compositional input and sound, and it was the infinite possibilities of those black and white keys that enabled him to create his unique harmonic and textural world. Rick Wakeman’s often virtuosic contributions to Yes had maximum impact, and Keith Emerson’s dexterous work with Emerson, Lake & Palmer (ELP) – perhaps, too often, a triumph of display over substance – was remarkable. In contrast, Richard Wright’s Pink Floyd input was far less showy, but crucial to their less-is-more sound.

Prog’s pomp, theatricality and ambition inevitably laid itself open to derision, especially from the cooler crew. With the founder members of Genesis all coming from one of England’s grandest private schools, Charterhouse, and with many other bands bringing into their work an earnest, educated, grammar school/art college sensibility, this was not the kind of music that was going to get all the girls or be danced to. The 1984 ‘mockumentary’ This Is Spinal Tap isn’t a singular pot-shot at Prog, but lands some blows hilariously well in that direction.

As for references to classical music itself, you’ll find plenty in Prog Rock, from nuanced to plain obvious. ELP, above all, regularly plundered the classical repertoire for the likes of ‘Fanfare for the Common Man’ and the Ginastera-inspired ‘Toccata’. Still alive when the songs were written, Copland and Ginastera were approached in person by ELP for permission to use their music, and both gave the resulting songs the thumbs up. (Would Mussorgsky have been so in favour of ELP’s ‘The Great Gates of Kiev’? Possibly not…).

Of a similar ilk on Yes’s 1971 Fragile album is ‘Cans and Brahms’, a solo keyboard take on music from the German’s Fourth Symphony – it’s the handiwork of the Royal College of Music-educated Rick Wakeman, who has since described it as ‘dreadful’. And while Pink Floyd steered clear of any such classical cover versions, Tchaikovsky’s Fourth Symphony makes a brief appearance on Wish You Were Here. Floyd’s Roger Waters would later tackle classical head on with his French Revolution opera Ça ira; ditto Genesis’s Tony Banks, with three orchestral suites (see left).

I still appreciate and adore this music as much as I do that of many classical composers. Some might say it’s a case of arrested development – I often wonder whether, if I was rid of all the baggage of its associations, I would hear it afresh, and with the indifference, even horror, that someone like my wife hears it. But the best stuff – listed here in a very personal and no doubt contestable (sorry ELP and King Crimson) Top Ten – still absorbs and thrills. I hope that at least some of it might have the same effect for you too.

Yes Close to the Edge (1972; 18’)
After an opening of particularly hardcore guitars/keyboard interaction, this totemic track hits its stride with complexity and contrast. Part III is a showpiece for Rick Wakeman’s spangly, caped-wizard act, including a grandiose organ climax dubbed in from London’s St Giles Cripplegate church.

Genesis Dancing with the Moonlit Knight (1973; 8’)
Packed with taut and varied material, one of Genesis’s finest co-written tracks – a compact journey of wistful Englishness, propulsive drive and dreamy 12-string guitar coda.

Pink Floyd Echoes (1971; 23’)
The lava-lamp indulgence of Pink Floyd’s earlier, improv-hippie phase meets with a growing discipline in this languid, atmospheric forerunner to Dark Side. The central stretch of avant-garde soundscape is strikingly creepy and evocative – a trippy journey into prehistoric wastes.

Genesis A Trick of the Tail (1975; album)
The band’s dazzling drummer Phil Collins steps up to frontman singer duty, and nails it – a more lyrical timbre than Peter Gabriel’s distinctive rasp, and instantly showing emotional range and presence. Musically, things are moving on and already hinting at the stadium pop-rock success to come – but the entire album is still a mighty, progressive achievement.

Yes Awaken (1977; 15’)
A very satisfying three-parter, where Wakeman’s influence is strong – lots of Bachian church organ and background angelic voices – and where the expansive, metrically intricate climax returns affectingly to the opening.

Pink Floyd Dark Side of the Moon (1973; album)
Famous for its Abbey Road engineering, musique concrète and conventional rock hits such as ‘Time’ and ‘Money’ (though in 7/4 time), this definitive concept album also features an extraordinary improvisation from singer Clare Torry (‘Great Gig in the Sky’) and an immaculate, looping synth solo in ‘Any Colour You Like’.

Genesis The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway (1974; album)
The apogee of Genesis’s prog-ness, and singer Peter Gabriel’s time to bow out. Harder-edged, and with moments of surreal experimentation, the sheer inventiveness and ambition is breathtaking. Not everyone’s cup of tea, even among early Genesis fans, but still remarkable.

Pink Floyd Shine On You Crazy Diamond (1975; 26’)
A spacious, classy tribute to Pink Floyd’s departed founder/bandmate Syd Barrett. Bookending the album Wish You Were Here, the pacing of often slow-moving material is impeccable, generating expansive instrumental stretches where keyboard player Rick Wright and guitarist David Gilmour are at their best.

Genesis Firth of Fifth (1973; 9’)
Tony Banks’s solo career hasn’t touched the commercial heights of his bandmates Gabriel or Collins, yet this solo-written number is one of the greats. It has rock music’s best ever piano introduction, the band’s most majestic guitar solo from Steve Hackett… and some of Gabriel’s less distinguished c.Grade 6 flute playing.

Genesis Supper’s Ready (1972; 24’)
A seven-part, through-written tour de force, displaying the group’s full musical and technical range as it reached early maturity. Extraordinarily sophisticated music from five 21 and 22 year-olds.

Suite surrender
Genesis’s Tony Banks

What happens when, with 30 years as a successful rock musician behind you, you find your life at a bit of a pause?

‘When we got to the end of our Calling All Stations tour in 1998, I thought, “What am I going to do now?”, says Tony Banks, founder member and keyboardist of Genesis. ‘I’ve always loved classical music and wanted to do something with orchestra for a while, partly inspired by working with composer Christopher Palmer on the soundtrack of the film The Wicked Lady (1983). At one point I was improvising a string sythesizer and came up with what became the piece Black Down, which I thought was really good. I had other bits which could go with it and I created a suite.’

Seven – A Suite for Orchestra was recorded by the London Philhamonic in 2002, proved a success, and has since been followed by SIX Pieces for Orchestra (2011) and 5 (2019). As for Banks’s composing style, hints of it can be found in his earlier Genesis days: ‘I am no respecter of keys! I like moving about. In the case of “Firth of Fifth” (see right), I’d written three sections in different keys – B flat, D and E minor – and it was a case of making them work together. As a group, we did like to shift keys, as it made the next bit sound interesting, and I was the chief transition maker.’ A 3-CD set of Banks’s suites is released on Naxos in Sept.■