Artist Rundown: Yes (Part 3)

Artist Rundown is a periodic feature in which I briefly share my thoughts, memories and opinions of an artist or group's entire recorded work in chronological order. First up is one of the bands which helped developed my love of and taste in music: progressive rock legends Yes.

Yes - The Yes Album (1971)

While Peter Banks laid the framework for what a Yes guitarist should more or less sound like, it took the flashy, twelve-fingered fretwork of rock/jazz/country virtuoso Steve Howe to finally propel the band to stardom. Yes, it's clear that his presence has upped the stakes for all involved -- the band's songwriting and arrangements are tighter, more focused and more well-formed than ever, even as the song lengths continue to expand.

The nine-minute opener "Yours Is No Disgrace" could be in the running for greatest Yes song ever, starting with an immensely catchy stop-start riff that leads into a galloping rhythm over which Howe lays his trademark licks. The whole band shares vocal duties in a rather CSNY-inspired manner for the first section before Howe takes the reins with a fabulous stereo-panned guitar riff, giving way to some of the most exhilarating guitar-based band interplay ever committed to tape.

If "Yours" is more a musical journey than a traditional "song," "Starship Trooper" is perhaps a warmer and more relateable take on Yes' cosmic message. It starts off with a pastoral -- yet no less astral-sounding -- melodic section before launching into a repetitive, monolithic groove that builds and builds the tension before crashing down on an absolutely breathtaking rock guitar crescendo from Mr. Howe. Who said progressive rock lacks emotional power?

For their troubles, the band received a peak spot of No. 4 on the British albums chart (and the somewhat less impressive No. 40 peak spot on the U.S. Billboard albums chart). This was largely due to the group's breakout hit, the two-part "Your Move/I've Seen All Good People." The song is a major accomplishment indeed, fusing a beautiful, folky melody with a rollicking climax and a hook that seemingly doesn't know when to stop.

The crowning achievement of the record, at least from a technical perspective, is the final piece, "Perpetual Change." Here the band combine their customarily beautiful melodicism with their most complex instrumentation to date, culminating in the dizzying middle section in which two complex riffs are played against each other in each stereo channel.

So, the band's skill finally matches its ambition, and with energy to spare. What to do next?