VELVET THUNDER

Absolutely outstanding is the only way to describe just how well this not only channels the spirit of classic Yes, but also gives it a new coat of paint and fits a turbo to the engine… Added to that, is what must surely be directed to the Pope for consideration as ‘The Miracle Of Jon Anderson’s Voice’ – most octogenarians with his pulmonary history would be wheezing after standing up to close the curtains, and yet somehow that most unique of all rock voices remains unfathomably undiminished by time and age.

Having released the excellent studio album True last year, and in the process exceeding most people’s expectations it is probably fair to say, there has been a buzz around Jon Anderson’s collaboration with the dreadfully named Band Geeks (seriously guys?). This has been especially true on the European side of the pond, as the band have not yet ventured to these shores to play live, and so have remained a largely unknown quantity beyond that tremendous new material. How would they do justice to the old Yes classics and, just as crucially, with Jon now in his 80th year and having had chest-related health issues in the past, how well could his voice possibly hold out? The answer, finally, is here, with this double CD/DVD set recorded in St Charles, Illinois (only the audio reviewed , as I don’t have the DVD footage, but what I have seen suggests that it is the audio which is the main meal here).

First let’s address this elephant which will not leave the room: the fact that, as evidenced by much complaining on the internet by people who really should know better, this album does not include any of the original material from True. And yes, my large flappy-eared friend, that is certainly a regrettable fact since it would have been fascinating to hear how it came across live. However, the simple fact is that this was recorded on the US tour preceding that album, and so the material did not exist to actually be played, so it is what it is, and if the moaning internet denizens don’t object, then Nellie here can pack up her trunk and go, and we can get on with looking into what is, in the context of a band openly celebrating the classic music of Yes, a quite outstanding release. Because if the True album managed to outpace people’s expectations of it, my own anticipation of this release has not merely been overtaken, it has been triumphantly lapped and accepted defeat unequivocally.

Did I use the word ‘outstanding’ before? Yes, I did – but I’m going to use it again anyway. Absolutely outstanding is the only way to describe just how well this not only channels the spirit of classic Yes, but also gives it a new coat of paint and fits a turbo to the engine. The setlist has (almost) all of the stuff you’d expect from The Yes Album, Fragile and Close To The Edge, but it also magnificently gives us The Gates Of Delirium and Awaken from Relayer and Going For The One respectively. Most of this would put an old-school Yes fan in Hog Heaven just by reading the album cover, never mind listening to it – but listen to it they surely must. Nothing here is anything less than brilliantly performed: the on-a-dime tightness and shifting complexity of this music is reproduced without a misstep to be heard, while the sheer energy they bring to the bigger, more dramatic sections is a force of nature. Added to that, is what must surely be directed to the Pope for consideration as ‘The Miracle Of Jon Anderson’s Voice’ – most octogenarians with his pulmonary history would be wheezing after standing up to close the curtains, and yet somehow that most unique of all rock voices remains unfathomably undiminished by time and age. Listening to this, it is easy to forget that this isn’t the Jon Anderson on the Yessongs album from over 50 years ago, as the clarity and pitch defies belief. If he’s been down to the crossroads at midnight or else has a portrait in the attic then I wish he’d tell us, because other than that I’m out of ideas. Astonishing is very much the word.

So, this show represents a joyous union of a brilliant band and a miraculous voice, and it lives up to that billing. I did say that there are no poor performances here, which is true, but that doesn’t mean there are not highlights among those. To these ears, four of them, which simply tower over the rest. First, and perhaps the greatest of these, is the opener, Yours Is No Disgrace, which takes the listener unawares as it leaps from the speakers with a clarity and power which grabs you and sits you dead centre and just slightly back from the stage in your imagination. Remember those long-expressed frustrations regarding how the recording quality of Yessongs (while not as bad as often painted) failed to do justice to the brilliant performances captured on those discs in 1972? Well, cast those ideas away and say ‘welcome to the 21st century’, as the recording fidelity here is on another level entirely. The way the band attack this complex highlight from 1971’s The Yes Album grabs your attention from the get-go, and the way they manage to reproduce the pinpoint accuracy of the original at full pace is thrilling indeed. I may be accused of heresy here, but I’m going to say it anyway: this is quite possibly the best live recording of the song that I have ever heard. Even that much-vaunted Yessongs rendition cannot live with this if only for the audio quality. Put brutally, what this opening track does with relentless abandon is to hammer the nails into the lingering credibility of the current Yes as a live act, as criticisms of slowed tempos and the understandable effect of the march of time on aging fingers are swept away in a wave of joyful abandon in the playing here. This is obviously not to diminish the achievements of the original Yes at all, or indeed those of Steve Howe, who keeps the flame burning admirably, but this just shows how it used to be done so completely that one is left to wonder whether, just possibly, it might be time for Yes to become Maybe Not. It really is that stark.

I mentioned other highlights though – and indeed there are, with three epics stepping up to the plate brilliantly. First, the venerable old Close To The Edge. Now, for the first half of the piece, this is merely an excellent delivery, managing to do a good job of reproducing the original. Then, from around halfway through the 20 minute duration, things step up a notch, with the lengthy climactic sections of the track imbued with an almost progressive-metal power and sense of bombast. This is an example of where the relative youth and sheer enthusiasm of the band takes them to another level which the parent band simply do not have in the tank any more. It leaves you almost drained by the conclusion, to be frank. Doing the same job is Awaken, the most recent track here from 1977. Once again, it is the jump in intensity of the final ‘Master of images’ section which works the magic, and the result is another piece which leaves you wanting to deliver a standing ovation and spontaneous applause, until you realise that you are at this moment driving a car, and such a thing would be either dangerous or simply impossible. Finally, clocking at the longest here at almost 23 minutes, is the brave take on the dazzlingly complex Gates Of Delirium, the war-and-peace side-long epic from 1974’s Relayer. It’s a piece which only the bravest or most foolhardy would attempt live – but amazingly they pull it off without a single false step. Admittedly, having two keyboard players must help (perhaps showing the utter quality of Messrs Wakeman and Moraz from the originals incidentally), but even so this is heady stuff. The intricate counterpoint melodies and rhythms of the chaotic ‘battle’ sequence are dispatched with perfection, and the closing calm of the ‘Soon’ coda is so beautifully delivered that it causes chills down the spine which I never expected to experience from Yes material being played again. It’s 23 minutes which are worth the cost of admission on its own, and the audience reaction leaves no doubt.

It sounds inconceivable that top-drawer versions of classics like Perpetual Change, Heart Of The Sunrise or And You And I should be relegated to the second tier, but there is a drawer above the top one here, and those four lie within it. It does mean, of course, that even the secondary material here is astoundingly well executed – and how often can you say that? The setlist itself is, as stated, a Yes fan’s dream, and it is almost impossible to argue with it. That said, I’m going to anyway, just in terms of my own individual preferences. Put simply, I could easily do without the closing Roundabout wheeled out yet again, or another gallop through All Good People, however well they are done. And Starship Trooper as well, to an extent, although that one is done particularly well here it must be said. In their place I would love to have seen one side of The Album That Time Forgot, otherwise known as Tales From Topographic Oceans. Sides one, two or four, any would be fine – I can only imagine how well this lot could do them. And while most of what one might term the ‘crowd pleasers’ are here, the absence of Siberian Khatru is baffling, especially since it is the sort of track which would seem to be right in the wheelhouse of these guys. Hell, even a track or two from the underrated first two albums (Survival or Then, maybe) – but the realist in me of course knows that unless you are very brave, or possibly foolish, you don’t drop the ‘Freebirds’, the ‘Smoke On The Waters’ or the ‘Paranoids’ in the set – that’s just the way it is.

Overall, it is simply impossible to level any negative criticism at this set beyond that minor gripe about the crowd-pleasers. Listening to this did one thing to me – it made me realise just how much this music became ingrained in my very DNA in the mid-70s. Some of the pieces here I have rarely listened to in over 40 years in terms of actually sitting down and concentrating, and yet my brain leapt to almost every note, syllable and musical nuance before it occurred. I knew that this was all in my mental jukebox, but I was unprepared for the sheer nostalgic joy of simply listening to this music with the ears of youth and headier days once again. It transported me to a time which may have been drab and flawed in many ways, yet lives in my soul in the form endless sunny days and music still to be discovered, of Roger Dean gatefold covers as yet unexplored and the endless possibilities of life stretched out ahead. And, perhaps most importantly, it did so in the shape of a band performing this stuff right here in the present day, with a singer whose charisma oozes from the discs here as strongly as that still magnificent voice. It is glaringly obvious that Yes discarding him when they did over his health issues was a reactive decision which was surely foolhardy in the extreme. The original is back, and remains the gold standard. Embrace the fact that he is still close to his best, and surrounded by outstanding musicians with Yes running through their collective veins. And then listen to this album. You won’t be sorry.