Review of Yes' Fragile

Released 1971

"Love comes to you and then after, dream on, on to the heart of the sunrise. Sharp-distance, how can the sun with it's arms all around me? Sharp-distance, how can the wind with so many around me I feel lost in the city."

My first three Yes albums were - in order of purchase - The Yes Album, Close to The Edge and 90125. My crashing disappointment with the last of these had the impact of devaluing the other two, coming the consider them as good, but not great.

Thus, by the time I went away to University, Yes could not be considered a favourite band of mine, although I had the first two of these three albums on opposing sides of a C90 cassette. I was, if truth be told, gutted that i had come to see Yes as nothing special. I have previously mentioned elsewhere in this blog that I had been aware of the mystique and grandeur of the Yes name from a very young age, long coveting the gorgeousness of Roger Dean's handiwork, fantasizing that the music that it enveloped was as beautiful and mysterious. Now, three albums in, the pedestal had toppled and my interest had waned.

My opinion was changed by a friend's elder brothers collection of original Yes LPs. This friend had inherited not only his brothers records but his passion for Yes. This was, from memory, a more or less complete collection of Yes' seventies oeuvre, so there was wall to wall Roger Dean, vast opening gate folds and lyric sheets. Prog heaven, in other words. Combine this with the extra kudos afforded by the scuffed edges, mild fading and industrial thickness of the vinyl and I could once more glimpse my pre-pubescent fervor for the mystique of the band.

And so to Fragile itself. I knew in advance that this was seen by fans as one of the pinnacles not just of Yes' career but of the entire prog genre. The artwork was obviously iconic one of those I had been aware of from before the age of ten.

This was the first album featuring Rick Wakeman, and it's his distinctive keyboard work that launches Roundabout and continues to define a key shift in Yes' sound from The Yes Album. I have as much time for Tony Kaye as Rick Wakeman. I've wondered often why the latter is so revered while Tony was all but forgotten until the execrable 80's albums. They have a very different sound but of equal value in my view. However, Roundabout's undoubted infectiousness is down to Rick Wakeman's contribution. I read somewhere that Jon Anderson was inspired to write the lyrics when seeing the mountains of Scotland looming out the mist, not that you would know from his bonkers lyrics: as obtuse as a fish in a Landrover.

What stops Fragile being regarded more highly be me and by many others is the mix of more successfully realised lengthier group songs and the shorter individual tracks. Yes, it's very prog to show off your remarkable virtuosity, but, call me unadventurous, it only succeeds in punctuating the album badly. Just as The Beatles White Album would have been a less successful release if the genius of the track sequencing had been altered, I believe Fragile could have been a classic with more prudent editing.

Now that I've shown my colours as a miserable old fart, this is a minor quibble as the longer tracks are uniformly excellent. South Side of The Sky is a particular favourite with a grand interplay between Rick and Steve Howe. As barmy as Jon Anderson is, his performance is transcendent, in a league of his own. SSOTS is a standout group effort with Bill Bruford's drumming frighteningly complex and very very tight with Chris' bass.

Long Distance Runaround achieves the seemingly impossible: a catchy sing-a-long prog song with lyrics that defy explanation.

Heart of The Sunrise is stunning. Jon's delivery is profoundly beautiful producing arguably the best track Yes had recorded up until that point.

To this day, although not my favourite Yes album, Fragile remains one of the finest headphones albums I own.