Review of Yes' Relayer

Released 1974

"Listen, your friends have been broken,
They tell us of your poison; now we know.
Kill them, give them as they give us.
Slay them, burn their children's laughter, on to hell".

Although I already owned four Yes albums by the time I bought Relayer, I wouldn't have classed myself as a Yes fan. My recorded to cassette versions of Close To The Edge, Going For The One, and The Yes Album in particular, were frequently played on my tape player in the Halls of Residence in Glasgow, but I was yet to be smitten. It was with Relayer than I became a bona fide Yes nut, kick-starting my drive to collect (almost) everything the band had recorded both before and afterwards.

Perhaps 90% of my record / cassette purchases while at University were second-hand, with a significant proportion coming from the £1 bin. However, being the frivolous and not to say foolish type, I was occasionally drawn to full priced albums, with HMV in Glasgow City Centre holding a particularly exciting appeal to this poor deprived country boy.

Along with Tales from Topographic Oceans, I had long seen Relayer as one of the finest examples of album sleeve art and had coveted it for several years. Now that I was building up my library of prog, I still viewed both of these albums as two of the pillars supporting the foundation of all that I held dear. Both the inner sleeve artwork on Close To The Edge and the music itself provided an insight into the mystical magnificence I felt must be contained within the vinyl grooves of Relayer. Where I felt (until then anyway) that CTTE fell short, I was sure that Relayer would deliver on my expectations.

Upon returning to the Halls with my purchase, I was delighted that a good friend, who was in possession of a complete set of classic era Yes albums, courtesy of his elder brother, imparted his view that this was indeed a worthy addition to my collection, being one of his favourites. This pleased me greatly.

Whilst, being picky, I would ultimately have preferred an original, less glossy copy, when finally alone with my own new copy, it was intensely gratifying that the actual experience of poring over the outer and inner sleeve was every bit as good as I hoped it would be. Twenty two years on, I still love this sleeve, considering it to be one of the most successfully evocative of the genre. For me it is the embodiment of prog; mythical landscapes, fantastical enough to have roots in reality but surreal enough to have a presence in another, weirder dimension.

This was my fifth Yes album and the fifth different line up the band, with the unknown quantity being hitherto unknown (to me, at least) keyboard player; Patrick Moraz.

There are a number of albums, where I've purposefully delayed the first airing to put off the possibility that my high expectation might be dashed unless I was in the right frame of mind. As anyone reading this is likely to be either a fan of prog rock, Yes or rock music in general, I can be reasonably confident that this is not a unique feeling.

Immediately, Gates of Delirium appeared to me as more stridently confident, precise and aggressive than any of the Yes albums I already owned. As with all their albums, Chris Squire's trademark bass style leaps out straight away. The track starts off with my favourite drum sound on any Yes album. The spiky angular overture quickly develops into a more uniform song structure with Jon Anderson's typically obscure lyrics delivered at a break-neck pace, much more emphatic than anything else I'd heard to date. Slowly, subtly the pace of the track picks up interspersing urgent lyrical passages with gradually intensifying instrumental passages. The delivery of the lyric quoted at the head of this review with Chris's accompaniment is both menacing and beautiful; an odd but effective achievement. There is plenty of room for the bass to stretch out and Steve Howe to impart rapid, jazz inflected solos. After about eight minutes, a series of keyboard and guitar exchanges begins, which endlessly spiral upwards, becoming seemingly more complex as the pace continues to increase. The 'battle sequence' of the song is without doubt the heaviest passage of music Yes have (yet) recorded, laying to rest - at least temporarily - any suggestion that Yes were only capable of soft melodic prog rock. There are numerous points where a climax appears imminent before building up to yet another layer of intensity.

There is a remarkable transitory three minute period where, once the climax finally arrives, the tracks morphs perfectly into the final, softer 'Soon..' section where Steve moves to pedal steel guitar accompanying the impeccable vocal. The contrast between the fast pace of the first part of the track and the lilting orchestral sublimity of the closing passage is wonderfully realised. I remember playing this to my girlfriend at the time, who wept the first time I played it to her. In my opinion, this is the greatest side long suite Yes have produced.

Like Close To The Edge, the second side also comprises just two tracks. Sound Chaser is tremendously ambitious. Full of jazz-fusion type instrumentation. Although I'd rate Bill Bruford as a greater drummer than Alan White, there is some good stuff from Alan on Relayer and on Sound Chaser in particular. Again, Steve Howe is on fire; loads of blisteringly difficult solos, including a marvellous, largely unaccompanied section in the middle of the track. Jon again is never better. Barking mad as always, but with the voice of an angel. Patrick Moraz gets to have a genuine freak-out moment at the end of the track where the enthusiasm from all concerned spills over into the daftly effective 'cha-cha-cha-cha-cha' ending.

To Be Over is arguably the most underrated song in Yes' entire canon. Much softer in tone and spirit than the preceding tracks, this provides the calm after the storm. This is a lovely song to have playing through your headphones as your fall asleep. Whilst I can't imagine Rick Wakeman playing on either of the first two tracks, this stylistically, could just as easily have been an out-take from Close To The Edge. The outro to this track is beautifully considered, gently lowering the listener down after a hectic trip.

This is an album of real contrasts. As a total package; sleeve, variety of musical types, lyrics ambition and humour, I think this is Yes' finest hour.