Yes - Fragile (1971)

It’s difficult to know where to start with Yes’s 1971 Fragile. Not only is it their ‘classic’ album, the band (and album) are something of a Marmite entity: the mention of them either sends people running to the hills or people are really fanatical about it! Yes were, of course, one of the behemoth’s of the prog rock genre and oft-cited as a major driving force behind the emergence of punk in an attempt to recapture music for the ‘ordinary person’ from a semi-classical, middle class musical style. However, if we set that stigma aside, Fragile is what it is: a defining album (love it or loathe it) containing 10 tracks that pioneered and shaped the prog rock era and has influenced many bands at the time and since.

Fragile is the first Yes album to feature what is widely regarded as their strongest, most creative lineup with ex-Strawbs keyboardist Rick Wakeman (yes, him from Countdown and Grumpy Old Men) being drafted-in in place of Tony Kaye who appeared on the band’s three previous studio offerings (and was to return again later in their career). Wakeman’s conservatoire musical education brought a classical influence to the band’s already progressive and exploratory leanings and thus completing the elements that created the archetype ‘Yes sound’ during the early 1970s.

The album itself largely takes the form of a selection of group numbers interspersed with solo pieces showcasing the various abilities of each member of the band and kicks-off with, at that time, the band’s biggest ‘hit’ Roundabout, which reached the top 20 in the US and received significant airplay throughout the UK thus raising the band’s profile. Roundabout is about as close to a ‘commercial’ track as you will find on the album and features a powerful solo from Wakeman.

Next-up is possibly the weakest – both in terms of production and interest – track on the album, Wakeman’s solo Cans and Brahms, an interpretation of Brahms’ 4th Symphony in E Minor. We Have Heaven follows which is largely a Jon Anderson mantra repeated ad ininitum and as with Cans And Brahms, is heavily self-indulgent and is probably one best left for the Yes purists.

Fortunately, things really start to pickup from here on in with South Side Of The Sky opening with a ’stumbling’ intro from Bruford leading to a strong Howe/Wakeman/Squire melody and some nice runs from Howe. As with many a Yes, and indeed prog, number, there are various sections to this track including a piano piece by Wakeman that cleverly segways back into the main theme.

Another solo track follows with Bill Bruford’s Five Per Cent For Nothing, a 30-second track based around a syncopated offbeat pattern featuring Wakmen, Howe and Squire. As a drummer I quite like the piece and spent many a happy hour working out and practicing the pattern in my youth – although I doubt the track has much appeal beyond musicians.

Another classic is up next with Long Distance Runaround – opening with an upbeat melody from Howe, with which the band all join after the opening bars leading to the main melody with Anderson sounding unusually gravel-voiced (well, for him at any rate) and this is certainly one of the more accessible numbers for non-Yes aficionados. However, things taper-off a bit towards the end with a repetitious loop which leads into Chris Squire’s harmonic-driven The Fish: not one of the more outstanding numbers, merely comprising of a repetitive riff with some solo noodling overlaid until fade when there are some vocals added.

Mood For A Day is up next and is Steve Howe’s solo piece which combines Spanish and classical guitar styles very delicately. At 3 minutes there are enough segments to the piece to hold a listeners interest and I would argue it is by far the highlight of the ’solo’ pieces on the album.

At just over 11 minutes, Heart Of The Sunrise could have gone horribly wrong if it had been allowed to drift into an Anderson mantra affair. However, the track is a really aggressive (well, for Yes) Howe riff-driven piece with fine accompaniment from the rest of the band – Bruford in particular turns in a strong performance here. The track was even used as a recurring theme throughout a Christina Ricci film, Buffalo 66 in 1998!

Once the opening, frantic pace has built to a crescendo the whole track drops in intensity to a new Steve Hackett-style guitar melody accompanied by Anderson which appears to be descending into a somewhat mellow affair – but then there are repeated syncopated flourishes now and again to keep the listener on their toes before eventually sliding back into the opening riff. Of course, never wanting to be upstaged by instrumentation, Anderson concludes the piece with a repetitious mantra until fade.

All-in-all this is a strong album that really showcases the abilities of the musicians involved and whilst I’m never overly-enthusiastic about Jon Anderson – firstly as I prefer prog rock to be instrumental and secondly, as Anderson’s stated approach of treating the vocals as an instrument and creating ’soundscapes’ and thus, any lyrics that enabled an appropriate ’soundscape’ to be created were utilised, nonsensical or otherwise – he turns in one of his best performances on this album with Fragile marking a real highpoint in the early Yes career and one which I would recommend everyone listens to so at least they can decide if they like it or not and not just dismiss Yes out of hand.

• Jon Anderson: Vocals
• Bill Bruford: Drums
• Steve Howe: Guitar
• Chris Squire: Bass
• Rick Wakeman: Keyboards

King Crimson - Red (1974)

This posthumous release from King Crimson – Robert Fripp having disbanded the group several months prior to its release – is, as with all early Crimson albums one of juxtaposition between Fripp’s penchant for grinding, plodding riffs being somewhat at odds with naively melodic vocal compositions by, in this instance, John Wetton.

The standout tracks for this album fall heavily into the former category with the opener, Red, being a 6 and a half minute soaring instrumental with Fripp’s trademark chops very much in evidence: the production on the album also really stands out with the album sounding as fresh today as it did 30 years ago. The clarity and quality of the production also allows for ex-Yes drummer Bill Bruford’s percussive style to really shine through.

Whilst the second track, Fallen Angel, is largely woven around a Wetton vocal, One More Red Nightmare provides a heavy, doom-laden riff with some intricate playing from Bruford – although once more incongruous verses are crow-barred into an otherwise impressive number but fortunately fail to diminish the power and prowess of the piece.

After building up hopes, Providence dashes them on the rocks and is basically experimental noodling and sound effects and a pointless addition to the album. The final track, Starless, is a 12 minute behemoth beginning with the familiar Crimson Mellotron backing leading into a vocal section. Fortunately, Fripp’s ability to compose an endless stream of malevolent riffs doesn’t escape him here and half way through Starless things start to pick up with a shift in time signature to a dissonant distorted bass melody over which Fripp noodles, gradually building intensity and tempo into an impressive climax.

In my opinion the five tracks of Red could have been quite easily cut to three but those three tracks – Red, One More Red Nightmare and Starless – more than make up for the inadequacies elsewhere. Whilst with a firm foot in the prog rock genre, don’t expect frantic soloing here: Crimson were all about creating mood pieces, albeit heavy and frequently ominous in tone, and of all their early albums, Red is the most approachable and consistent.

• Robert Fripp – Guitar
• John Wetton – Bass/Vocals
• Bill Bruford – Drums