Yes: Close To The Edge

Close To The Edge

Best song: Close To The Edge

Worst song: …you cannot be serious. Oh, fine then, And You And I

Overall grade: 7

There are albums I think are better than this one. Not very many, but they do exist – often those that are more coherent i.e. are so great because the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. But I cannot think of one single album that has less flaws than Yes’ 1972 masterpiece here. (Many would agree: it has over 2000 5 star ratings on ProgArchives.com)

However, I believe I am supposed to be objective while writing this and so I’ve tried very hard to find some negative aspects to comment on in order to show I’ve considered both sides. Here’s what I came up with:

1.       It’s too good. Sometimes it’s just far too much awesomeness to cope with in one sitting so I have to split it up into individual songs. When I do listen to the complete album, it basically spoils me for all other music for the rest of the day.

2.       Yeah, that’s all I got.

I can actually understand why someone wouldn’t like this album. I’ve never read a truly negative review of it (though I’d be interested to, so if you know of one…) but it’s hardly everyone’s thing; as whether or not you like it depends on your priorities regarding music. It’s very much an album to listen to. If you just have it on in the background, half-listening while doing something else, it sounds like random noise. It’s complicated and you have to pay attention to make sense of it. A lot of people don’t like that in music and I think that’s fair enough – there’s only a certain number of hours in the day and not everyone wants to spend them solely on music. It also hasn’t got lyrics you can particularly relate to, a beat you can dance to or anything that’s likely to make you shed a tear, unless you’re really really moved by Bill Bruford’s drumming.

But it’s technically perfect and the structure and writing of the title track is flawless. Let me break it down: some very quiet bird noises grow louder and eventually segue into some fairly soothing outdoor music before the faster guitar crash in and the band dissolves into a fast, complicated, slightly jazzy instrumental piece, with a couple of minute pauses for Jon Anderson to let out an ‘aaaah!’ Then, at around the 3 minute mark, he gives the band a cue to change direction into a more structured, symphonic section which lasts until Bill Bruford gives us a great drum line and Jon starts to sing the first verse, at which point the music picks up pace again. For a short instrumental break and the chorus, the instruments become rougher and choppier until a wonderful swirling organ comes in and a couple of backing singers add lovely harmonies. This fades and the volume goes down, some rhythmic drums keeping the pulse for a while but then coming to a stop, leaving us with just some calming naturesque sounds, like the dripping water sound effects and the atmospheric music. But as we pass the halfway point the organ comes back in and begins to build things back up, joined after a while by some far off soft vocals which carry us through to a much quieter part of the song that feels very melancholy. Jon’s voice shows a rare emotion and the music just envelopes you completely. A few drum taps count the band in and then we’re back in a more excited freeform style where everyone present is displaying their best-ever musicianship. A bombastic and triumphant chorus comes out to finish it off and we revisit the original theme to tie everything up before the instruments gently fade out, returning to the simple tweeting of birds that we first heard, and that’s your song.

It’s not like a sidelong that’s a bunch of short songs strung together with connecting pieces, this is very much a single track, and everything is timed to perfection. But as if hearing that wasn’t enough to change your world, we have two more songs to go! Neither of them try to be the first, there’s the more acoustic ‘And You And I’ that’s almost folky in places, and the hard rock-influenced ‘Siberian Khatru’ which is great except it just fades out to silence at the end, making it kind of a boring finish to the album. But after 38 mindblowing minutes, it’s not much to complain about.

I also like the cover art. It’s green! But not plain green, a range of shades. What does it symbolise? Is it the earth becoming shrouded in darkness? Is it Roger Dean running out of red paint again? Is it an unused design for one of Rick Wakeman’s capes? For something that doesn’t have a real picture, I look at it for far too long.

Even if it doesn’t sound like your thing, I think you should listen to this record once in your life just to experience it. It’s the pinnacle of Yes and of everything classic prog tried to achieve, and it’s not just a record, it’s an experience; a musical rite of passage.