Sic Semper Tyrannis

Yes--Close to the Edge

One of my favorite smart-sounding words is “dialectic.” I know it involves the tension of opposites. Hegel used it in describing the evolution of ideas-how a synthesis is formed when faced with the truth of one idea (thesis) and the truth of its opposite (antithesis.) And my musical thought-life has a big dialectic at its center, kind of like how scientists say there is a giant black hole at the center of the Milky Way galaxy. For you see, I’m no musical purist. I don’t believe that punk rock’s simplicity and attitude are the only way to do rock n’ roll. Nor do I think that music should only be complicated.

While I was in high school picking up albums of great melodic pop songs by the Beatles and They Might Be Giants, I was also learning about their antithesis: prog rock.

I had a crazy band director who listened to the band Yes constantly. He was always pointing out technical little passages and musical things going on behind the vocals. Over time, if you hear something enough, maybe you can’t help but become interested. So, after hearing little bits of songs here and there, I thought I would give this Yes band a try. I believe the first album was Classic Yes. I liked several things about this music. It was bizarre and interesting because you never knew what was going to happen next. It was all kind of stream-of-consciousness. Within a minute or two of a Beatles song, you had pretty much heard all of the musical material that they would use for that song. Everything from that point on was just repetition with different lyrics. I believe theorists call this a strophic form.

Well, Yes was different. It was like listening to a rock n’ roll symphony unfold. These songs were through composed, to use another theory term. Two minutes into a Yes song and you may have heard one verse, or just an intro. The rules seemed a little more lax for this kind of music. I liked that. To me, it was the sound of ambition and wild, artistic impulse unbound.

And another thing I liked about Yes was that it sounded like these guys knew what they were doing. For some reason, that was important to me at the time. I thought that truly great artists and musicians had to be aware of the technique of making music, not just the art. And a lot of times, the music was difficult to pull off. There were odd meters for the drummer to navigate. There were a lot of fast notes for the guitarist and bassist to play. Again, something about the technical proficiency impressed me. I believe the roots of that go back to hearing Eddie Van Halen for the first time. But this music was kind of like if Eddie Van Halen had gone to college in England and studied anthropology, rather than been in a party band in California.

Like I said, these ideas were pretty much opposed to pop music, at least some of the pop music of the Beatles, who seemed a little bit more instinctive with their music and not so academic.

And oh, man, the synthesizer sounds! Starting out in the early seventies, they were blessed with the emergence of all kinds of new electronic musical technology-Moogs and mellotrons and ARPs. They could create all kinds of otherworldly weedly-weedlies, and whip-tee-whooptees, and sounds like floating through space. I loved all the textures that they were able to come up with.

Unfortunately, time has not smiled on Yes and other bands of their “progressive” ilk. At some point, it became grotesquely uncool to be able to play with impressive technique and to be artistically ambitious. I suppose it was when punk rock came along. But I still hold Yes in high regard. I’m a sucker for most of Jon Anderson’s melodies and the adventurous harmonies that venture well beyond the three or four guitar chords that most bands use. And I can appreciate a band that requires something of their audience. In the case of Yes, they require an awful lot of patience. The songs can be long, and perhaps the solo sections can sound like so much noodling and musical masturbation. But something about their overall aesthetic really grabbed me.

The first Yes album that really wowed me was called Close to the Edge. It only had three songs on it. And it started with one of my favorite devices-the fade-in. It sounds like a jungle fading into life to take over your room. Like orchestral music, Yes was fond of musical movements. However, they were inspired by Romantic composers and linked their movements together. The real reason “Close to the Edge,” the eighteen-minute-long song, got me was what happened at about ¾ of the way through. All semblance of a rock band crumbled as the musical picture was taken over by the sound of a huge pipe organ. It was a moment that gave me goose bumps. Clearly, this wasn’t just rock n’ roll. It was, once again, about big ideas. Some might find the epic drama of it all to be kind of cheesy, but I luxuriated in the sounds that Yes created. However, it was yet another case where I ignored the lyrics. I had to, because this was one area where I agreed with the critics-the lyrics were at most points indecipherable. Here’s a sample: “A seasoned witch could call you from the depths of your disgrace/And rearrange your liver to the solid mental grace.” (Interpretations welcome.) Honestly, I would hate to meet the kind of hippied-out druggy that could relate to most of their lyrics. And they got criticized harshly for “not saying anything,” not communicating. As if music was purely a verbal art!

Oh, but the music behind those lyrics-I can’t explain the complex beauty behind it all.

posted by Mike @ 1:35 PM