Yes - Relayer

Released - November 1974

Genre - Progressive Rock

Producer - Yes & Eddy Offord

Selected Personnel - Jon Anderson (Vocals); Steve Howe (Guitar/Vocals); Patrick Moraz (Keyboards); Chris Squire (Bass/Vocals); Alan White (Drums/Percussion)

Standout Track - The Gates Of Delirium

In 1972, Yes had released Close To The Edge, the record that would perhaps always be remembered as their best and that was perhaps the purest distillation of the ideas at the heart of the band's music (even if, for me, it will always sit somewhere slightly behind The Yes Album). After their indulging their own lofty ambitions with something as over-the-top as Close To The Edge had paid off so well, the logical next step seemed to be to indulge themselves even further. While Close To The Edge had featured one twenty-minute epic and two ten-minute pieces, 1973's Tales From Topographic Oceans would be a double album consisting of just four twenty-minute pieces. It is, with the notable exception of this year's execrable Heaven & Earth, one of the worst albums Yes ever recorded. There are a few decent musical ideas hidden across the record, but not one of the four songs has more than five minutes' worth of genuinely enjoyable material, while some are just flat out bad from start to finish. In the wake of the bloated album. While it wasn't universally hated on release, it continues to be a divisive album for Yes fans, and one person who came out strongly opposed to it was keyboardist Rick Wakeman, who quit the band soon after the album's release.

After auditioning a number of replacements (including Vangelis, who couldn't join Yes due to his aversion to touring, but would later work with lead vocalist Jon Anderson on a number of projects), Patrick Moraz was appointed the new keyboardist for the band, who set about working on a new album that wisely learned from the mistakes of their previous project. It takes a backwards step to replicate the structure of Close To The Edge with one epic piece followed by two shorter ten-minute songs. While it doesn't match the brilliance of that earlier album, the return to a slightly more concise and tight structure returns all the band's focus and attention to detail that felt lost in all the sprawling excess of Tales From Topographic Oceans. To deal first with the appointment of Moraz, he is effectively a place-filler here. At no point does he let the sound down, and he actually contributes a number of interesting ghostly, wailing soundscapes in the mid-section of "The Gates Of Delirium," but he lacks the skill to try and replicate the ornate solos and decorative frills of Wakeman, so the keyboards here feel far less noticeable or significant as a Yes fan might be used to, and it's notable that a lot of the music is driven more by Steve Howe's guitars than by Moraz's keyboards. That said, Moraz's space-age synth solo about thirteen minutes into "The Gates Of Delirium" is a moment he can be truly proud of, but his moments of jazzy invention on "Sound Chaser" come across as far more self-indulgent and directionless than Wakeman ever seemed.

"The Gates Of Delirium" itself is the album's centrepiece, a vast, sprawling battle epic that sees the lamblike bleating of Jon Anderson incongruously yelping out things like "Slay them, burn their children's laughter, on to hell!" The first few minutes of the piece, a fairly unremarkable vocal melody over the usual complicated, knotted arrangments of guitar and bass and clattering drums, rarely excite me much, but by the time the piece gets to its battle-oriented mid-section, with Chris Squire's bass pounding out a military rhythm and Howe's guitars becoming ever more distorted, able to sound like a piercing scream one minute and a death rattle the next, is a truly exciting bit of music and one of the most ambitious things Yes ever realised. That reaches its finale with Moraz's aforementioned synth part before everything quiets down into the beautiful final section, "Soon," a beautiful ballad about hope for the future where Anderson gets to play within his comfort zone a bit more and Howe's quiet, restrained guitar parts sound almost otherworldly.

There's a slightly awkward lurch from the beauty of that closing section into the album's second song, "Sound Chaser," one that has a couple of great moments but that I always struggle to consider a true classic. It's a highly experimental piece that takes its cue from the jazz fusion work of Miles Davis, Jon McLaughlin and the Mahavishnu Orchestra. It veers wildly between different time signatures and melodies, all the while the entire band rattling and clattering away as if its life depends on it. Every now and again it stumbles upon a compelling melody, but it very quickly abandons it and returns to its established format of guitar, bass and drums furiously chasing each other around while the keyboards tinkle away in the background. The album redeems itself, though, with its glorious final number, "To Be Over," essentially taking the "obligatory ballad" spot of "And You & I" on Close To The Edge. It effectively follows on from the contemplative, peaceful mood established in that closing section of "The Gates Of Delirium," albeit perhaps more optimistic and less desolate. It builds to a rousing conclusion that rounds off one of Yes's more angry, unpredictable records with a heavy dose of their more familiar placidity.

Relayer was well received but failed to replicate the success of some of their earlier albums. Already, the musical landscape was changing and the overblown pomp of prog was beginning to look unfashionable. 1974 was already the year that had seen most of the big prog bands undergo big changes in order to survive - Peter Gabriel had quit Genesis, King Crimson had disbanded, and Yes were about to take a three-year hiatus. Their solution to the threat of irrelevance, it seemed, was to disassociate themselves from the idea that they had to be releasing new material constantly, but could now be comfortable doing it only when they wanted. As such, Relayer would be the final word from Yes for a few years before Going For The One appeared in 1977. It might not be the most perfect of their early albums, but almost single-handedly repairs the damage done by the indulgence of Tales Of Topographic Oceans, and stands as a very fine full stop in this early chapter of their career.

Track Listing:

All songs written by Jon Anderson, Steve Howe, Patrick Moraz, Chris Squire & Alan White.

1. The Gates Of Delirium

2. Sound Chaser

3. To Be Over