#10 Close to the Edge by Yes (from Close to the Edge, 1973)
This incredibly long song, lasting for more than eighteen minutes and spanning the entire first side of the album with the same name, is worth every second. It is a spectacle of sound, in my opinion the culminating work of Yes, a very talented band to begin with. There is nothing like it, before or after. Yes itself tried five other album-side-long pieces after Close to the Edge and only managed anything remotely as good with their beautiful At the Gates of Delirium from Relayer. Close to the Edge features, like most Yes tunes, singer/lyricist Jon Anderson’s high-pitched incomprehensible singing. It wasn’t that you couldn’t discern his words: they just didn’t make any sense! But to me, that’s part of the fun of listening to Yes. But the main attraction was keyboardist Rick Wakeman’s virtuosity. Yes showed off some of that skill in their 1972 radio hit Roundabout, but in Close to the Edge, Wakeman pulled out all of the stops in the wildest keyboard jam I’ve heard (toward the song’s ending). Within Close to the Edge, the tempo and melody varied greatly, but the transitions from one part to the next were done well enough to give the whole piece a feeling of coherence. This was a song that I first heard in the early-to-mid 1970s but did not fully appreciate until 1993, when I bought the CD and was astounded by it. Yes has gone through many member changes over the years. One time, they all got back together (two drummers, two lead singers, etc.) and did a critically-panned album titled Union. As far as I know, they’re still together in some form or another. Other songs of theirs that I like a lot are I’ve Seen All Good People, Yours is No Disgrace, South Side of the Sky, Heart of the Sunrise, And You and I, Leave It, and Changes.
#9 For My Lady by the Moody Blues (from Seventh Sojourn, 1972)
The first Moody Blues song I heard was their moderately successful mid-1960s hit Go Now with Denny Laine as the lead singer. This band didn’t take off in popularity, though, like their contemporaries the Who, the Animals, the Rolling Stones, and of course, the Beatles. Laine left the band (later to join Paul McCartney’s band Wings) and it looked as if the Moody Blues had little prospect for a successful future. But then Justin Haywood and John Lodge joined up and they began a flood of prolific creativity that enveloped all of the band’s members. They also were very adept at composing and recording off of a device, called the mellotron, which effectively simulated symphonic instruments. From 1968 through 1972, the Moody Blues recorded seven studio albums, every one of them a classic in my eyes (they recorded three in 1969 alone). My favorite of these was To Our Children’s Children’s Children from 1969, but my favorite song of theirs was For My Lady, a song written and sung by band member Ray Thomas, appearing on their Seventh Sojourn album and sometimes played on album-rock radio stations as a lead-in piece to their popular singles hit Isn’t Life Strange. Thomas’s contributions have always been my favorites of the Moody Blues. They usually have a whimsical though sometimes spooky feel to them that can be riveting at times. And For My Lady was one such time. From the time that I first heard it until now, I have loved it as one of my all-time favorites, being one of very few songs that I instantly deemed as being great. I think the Moody Blues are still out there performing and I wish them continued success. Some others of my favorites from them are Peak Hour, Nights in White Satin, Legend of a Mind, Lazy Day, Are You Sitting Comfortably, Floating, Out and In, Candle of Life, Nice to Be Here, One Step Into the Light, The Day We Meet Again, Gemini Dream, and Celtic Sonant. The Moody Blues, you may have concluded, is another band whose studio albums I have bought in their entirety. Because they’re such a good, quality band!
Next favorite songs: #8 to #7
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I just found this set of “favorites” posts, from your recent link. A comment here, on “Yes”:
ReplyDeleteI, too, love the Close To the Edge album and song, though I think I like “And You And I” even more than the title track. I saw them in 1972, at the Hollywood Sportatorium (“The Distortatorium”), during their CTTE tour, and I remember the wonderful sound of Rick Wakeman’s synthesizer in “And You And I”... and the visual effect of his long yellow hair flowing this way and that as he turned from one keyboard to another in his little circle.
I’m also very fond of the Tales From Topographic Oceans album, which went gold, but didn’t have the same critical acclaim nor popular following (CTTE went platinum). All four songs on that album take one album side each, and they continue Yes’s song-as-a-symphony exploration that they introduced with “Close To the Edge”.
While I’m here, I’ll add that I was a big Moody Blues fan from Days of Future Passed through Seventh Sojourn. My favourite contributors are Justin Hayward (not Haywood) and Ray Thomas, and I also liked Hayward and Lodge’s Blue Jays album. The Moodies lost me, though, with the disappointing Octave, and none of their work in the ’80s or beyond has grabbed me.
1) Yes, I'm sure you're right about "Hayward": I'm awful about proper name spellings.
ReplyDelete2) There were parts of the Topographic Oceans double album that were mesmerizing. I wish Yes had taken those musical themes and instead condensed them into more viable (at least to me) songs in a shorter, single album. But I also understand what Jon Anderson was trying to do: represent in musical form four tenets of a Yogi master's teaching that he had been following at the time (back in 1973).
3) Rick Wakeman was truly a master at his craft. I understand that one of the main reasons he left Yes, though, in the mid 1970's, was that he was tired of all those incredibly long pieces and had wanted to get back to what the band had done on their Fragile album.
4) The Moody Blues are a treasure: at least from 1968-72. Their 1977 Octave album was a portent of a more sedate, pop-oriented emphasis (which I found largely boring), but with two important exceptions. The last two tracks, Mike Pinder's beautiful One Step Into the Light and the final piece The Day We Meet Again, rank right up there with the best the band has ever done...
Wakeman: Of course, then, when he went off and did solo albums we got Journey to the Center of the Earth, a two-sided story album that's arguably as much a long-involved single piece as any of Yes's work was. And he followed that with The Myths and Legends of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, another of the same.
ReplyDeleteI like both of those a lot ("Journey" more than "Arthur"), but my favourite Wakeman is The Six Wives of Henry VIII, which he did while he was still with Yes (and which I have on my BlackBerry and my car's microSD card). Also thematic, but done as six distinct pieces, or movements.
Patrick Moraz, who replaced Wakeman in Yes (and who later played with the Moodies, as well) is also a fabulous keyboardist. I got to see him play us a lunchtime concert at IBM's Watson Research Center several years ago — he's friends with someone who used to be a researcher there.
Now that we live in a time when even out-of-print recorded music is available in digitalized form, a lot of those solo projects are resurfacing. I've known of Wakeman's albums but never heard them. I'd like to hear them out before purchasing them, though. Jon Anderson put out stuff on his own, too, even while recording the landmark Yes albums The Yes Album and Fragile. I'd also like to check out the old solo works of Justin Hayward, John Lodge, and the beloved Ray Thomas.
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