Genesis in the 1980s

I made a Genesis playlist here if you want some soundtrack for the below.

I actually began a Genesis project over here at little ol' Dog Star Omnibus - the biggest little Omnibus in the Union, to paraphrase Rhode Island's old state slogan - last year or the year before. I sank a good amount of time into it but got sidetracked by something or other and never finished. But Political Beats recently wrapped up a fantastic seven hour overview of Genesis, and (as their overviews of bands I like usually do) it got me going through their discography again.

Here's a brief bio of me and Genesis:

- I don't know the first time I heard Phil Collins - in the 80s his hits were just part of the ether, even in West Deutschland, where I was for the first half of the decade, and where things popular in the States often took five or six months to make their way to us - but it was around 1985, I think, when I became aware of Miami Vice. That led to "In the Air Tonight" which led to No Jacket Required.

- My family moved back to the States in August '86, a couple of months after Invisible Touch came out Genesis released , one of the most popular (radio, sales, and video-wise) records of the decade. The title track was played everywhere, and constantly, as were all the other singles. "Tonight, Tonight, Tonight," a harrowing song about a junkie in the throes of withdrawal, was even used for a Michelob commercial.

- Sometime over the next few years I started getting into prog rock, and everyone kept telling me to check out the band's 70s stuff. This led me to make several pilgrimages to Luke's Record Exchange in Pawtucket, Rhode Island, commemorated elsewhere in these pages. One time I walked out of there with Foxtrot, Nursery Crime, and The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway. (For less than $10, probably). And I liked them so much that when I finally got a CD player one of the first CDs I ever purchased was Trick of the Tail. An album I love so much that I almost made this post a 1976 to 1986 deal, just so I could cover it.

None of these just-mentioned albums are on the docket for today, though. Genesis broke big at the end of the 70s thanks to the success of "Follow You, Follow Me". (Not a particular fave of mine.) What would the 80s hold? First up:

(1980)

I often use the word “brackish” to describe the trends, musical or otherwise, of the first or last years of any decade. The styles and trends of the previous decade mingle briefly with the new and form some unique mixture of sound before one era gives way to the next. On And Then There Were Three (1979) you can clearly hear the 80s-to-come style of the band on “Follow You, Follow Me,” but it sticks out like the proverbial sorest of thumbs among the other tracks, which sound so solidly 70s-Genesis-sounding. Duke, the band’s tenth (!!) album, bridges the two eras more gracefully, managing to sound like new wave prog rock or something close to it. 

The singles: “Duchess” The keys rock on this one. Is Tony Banks the most underrated rock keyboardist of all time? Among rock keyboardists certainly not. But among the general public is there even a rated rock keyboardist? I don’t know what the conventional wisdom is on the subject. Without a doubt and with no caveats, though, Tony Banks rocks. There’s a quote that follows him around about how most of his songs have seven chords too many. Perhaps so, but he’s also the earworm guy in the band. Well, they each have an uncanny gift for earworm, I think, perhaps Phil, Mike, and Tony share this distinction equally.

“Misunderstanding” is the album’s big hit. It’s not a fave. Both the main riff and the general mood and lyrics seem repetitive of Led Zeppelin’s “Fool in the Rain.” I can't be the only one who thinks this? But I love “Turn It On Again.”  I love when you hear a song a million times and eventually discover it’s about something completely different than what you thought. Genesis has a unique skill set for hiding complex, askew ideas in 80s-radio-friendly packages. Even better, though, is the secondary discovery that “Oh wow, that song really does sound like (that idea.)” Take “Turn It On Again,” a song which achieves even more tragic relevance in the social media age, about a man whose only relationships are with the flickering images on his TV screen, whose life is experienced only vicariously through them. The middle section with the odd time signature precisely approximates that disorientation of cable-flipping, searching for that “hit” of sublimated existence. 

Was “Man of Our Times” a single? (Answer: no.) I need to do a comprehensive overview of Mike’s solo stuff, I love everything he ever brought to the band. While we’re here, Phil’s “Please Don’t Ask” is his most personal song, written about the break-up of his first marriage, and it’s certainly memorable at that, but it’s Genesis (and Phil) at their Beach-Boys-iest. You can’t say that about too many of their tunes.

My favorite track is undoubtedly “Duke’s Travels.” That sucker is epic. The album is really called “The Story of Albert” (A quick summary is that Albert has a break up, and falls in love with a singing star on television while sitting at home alone.) It’s all there, emotionally and overture-wise, in that one instrumental. And “Duke’s End” is a great wrap-up/ roll-credits. 

Next:

(1981)

I mentioned up there that at least part of the “80s sound” is co-authored by Genesis. I’d love to truly map out what I consider the 80s sound (how many parts the Fairlight CMI? How many parts Eddie Van Halen? How many the Human League?) but what I meant by that is the gated reverb effect on Collins’ drums. Mic-ing the drums that way forced Tony to alter the way he played keyboards. It all leads inevitably to "Tonight, Tonight, Tonight" and everything else on Invisible Touch. That is the eventual waterfall we hang-glide over, Moonraker-style, and you can see it ever so small in the distance when you listen to this album.

The title track was a bold choice for a single (although the radio version lops off the best part, which is all the weird stuff at the end) but an even odder choice for album opener, if you ask me. Great tune, though; there really aren’t any bad ones on this record. The two that I like least are the album’s best-known tracks (“No Reply at All” and “Man on the Corner.”) And I like those just fine, just not as much as the title track of “Me and Sarah Jane” or my two favorites: “Dodo/Lurker” (the keys are fierce as hell in that one) and “Keep It Dark.”

Here's Simon Collins covering it.

The albums’ most infamous track is probably “Who Dunnit”. I like it and its audacity, but it drives me a little crazy. I only learned from the Political Beats episodes that it’s basically a fart joke. Good for Genesis wrapping a fart joke in what could otherwise be a shop demonstration of the Prophet-5 synthesizer.

Those Political Beats guys pointed out something else interesting, as well. Abacab is as true a blend of new wave, prog rock, post-punk as any of the other albums often nominated for such (Songs for the Big Chair from Tears for Fears, Synchronicity by the Police, or even Moving Pictures by Rush). I might nominate Genesis (1983) myself, but both it and Abacab, certainly.

The band released its third live album next with:

(1982)

Very good live album. Their best? Probably. The later ones are hampered by We Can’t Dance-era stuff (spoiler alert: not a fan of We Can’t Dance; happily for me it came out in ’91 so I didn’t have to dive back into it for this here blog) and the earlier ones by poorer production. Maybe the Last Domino tour planned for 2021 will result in their definitive live album. It’d be a nice swan song for the band. 

All the songs here from the band’s most recent material is fine, but the real treats are the 70s-revisit stuff (“In the Cage” and “It/ Watcher of the Skies” especially) and the b-sides. Which are left off the CD but comprised the unmentioned fourth side of the title.

“Paperlate,” though, I hadn’t heard that in thirty-odd years. It was a short-lived joy to rediscover. That style of call-and-response with the horns doesn’t really land with me. Sing “Chick-fil-A, chick-fil-A” to the melody, though, and wham, instant jingle. 

Next:

(1983)

Let's do a song-by-song take on this one.

“Mama” A few years back I watched all seven seasons of Magnum, PI without even really meaning to. I was going to do a Top Ten post for it but never did (more here). One of the episodes that would’ve been on that list, though, was "Death and Taxes" which is basically a forty-odd minute music video for this song/ Miami Vice "homage". The lyrics apparently reference The Moon’s a Baboon, made into a film with David Niven. (Never saw it.)

Here’s an excerpt from an old Keyboard Magazine about the production of this song.

“The Linn LM-1 rhythm was programmed by Mike Rutherford, rather than drummer Collins. It was fed through a reverb unit and then into a Fender amplifier with a large amount of distortion. Tony Banks used a Synclavier, ARP Quadra, E-mu Emulator, and Sequential Circuits Prophet-10 in the recording. The Quadra's rhythmic pulses were triggered by the 16th note hi-hat pattern coming from the Linn drum machine. A low E drone was recorded on the Prophet-10 through most of the song. A koto, which happened to be in the studio one day, was sampled into the Emulator and used in the song because it was felt that no other sound worked in the section.”

I understand every third or fourth word of that. Sounds awesome, though.

“That’s All” What can you say? Craftmanship supreme. 

“Home By the Sea” Here’s another of those double-whammies I mention. I must’ve heard this a hundred times before I ever looked it up what it was about, and I only ever did so because I joked to a friend once that if I ever got a home by the sea it wouldn’t be the one from that Genesis song. I was only responding to the tortured mood of the song, not its lyrical content, which do happen to be about a haunted house. And that’s where the secondary realization kicks in, i.e. “wow, that song’s about a burglar who breaks into a haunted house and then the ghosts just sit him down (“Sit ow-owwwn-n-n!”) and tell him stories of who they used to be and how they came to be haunting there. And you know what? That’s exactly what it sounds like, now that I know that.” Remarkable.

“Second Home By the Sea” Because the first wasn’t enough! Absolutely not. An artsy sequel, like the sophisticated city cousin to the haunted country mouse of the previous. I’ll work on it.

“Illegal Alien” Okay, well, they can’t all be first round picks. This is a good-hearted silly song that is anachronistic and a little weird-sounding now. I’d say “offensive” but it’s practically banal these days to point out perfectly inoffensive things that are treated like Lord Haw Haw. It goes on way too long, mostly.

I never liked “Taking It All Too Hard” on previous listens but Old Man Bryan likes it just fine and kindly reminds you of the boundaries and border-hedge of his personal exteriors. 

“Just A Job To Do” Is this Genesis’ most overlooked big hit? As in people forget both that it exists or that Genesis did it? In all fairness, it’s easy for the casual listener to get Phil’s 80s work mixed up with Genesis’. Mike and the Mechanics don’t have that problem. (Nor Tony, I guess, if anyone even recognized them. Poor guy released four or five non-Genesis projects in the 80s that sold a total of four copies. I’m told, unreliably. I’ve heard none of them. That’ll change one of these days. I love Tony, don't send me hate mail.) Anyway this is a fun tune. I wouldn’t say Phil is underrated as a vocalist, but one particular aspect of his fronting Genesis – that of “selling” all of these different POVs, here an assassin with (see title) – may be. That’s a whole different skill set than just hitting the notes. 

(“I’m coming hard on you!” might have been re-thought as the bridge, but it was a simpler time. )

“Silver Rainbow” Some great (and weird keys) on this one. Apparently the silver rainbow is the zipper to a girl’s jeans. A trivial little tune, perhaps, but a great example of just how effortlessly these guys can construct a song. Is there a note wasted here? I think not. Despite the subject matter, it reminds me of a Wiggles tune. 

“It’s Gonna Get Better” Criticized on release as “cosmic Elgar” (as in Sir Edward William Elgar, the dude whose “Elegy” graces many a montage in film and television) it actually lifts a cello part from a different composer, Aram Khachaturian. A lovely song that has only grown on me over the years and dozens of listens. The ending goes for broke and succeeds. It points squarely to where the band will land next.

Before we get there, the b-sides for the singles on this one include “Nanimani” and “Submarine.” Both are great. The latter could be the theme of an entire film, actually. Not necessarily a navy (or delicatessen) film, just a nice slice of atmosphere. 

And finally:

(1986)

Here’s an album that was inescapable for a few pivotal years of my youth. (They’re all pivotal!) At the mall, on the radio, on MTV, in my bedroom, you name it. 

That song by song approach worked pretty well for Genesis; let’s do the same here.

“Invisible Touch” This and “Turbo Lover” by Judas Priest were my favorite songs ever in seventh grade. My friend Kevin’s joke at the time was “She seems to have an invisible tool shed!” Man that cracked me up. I sang it practically every time I heard it for a number of years. Now I wonder what the hell was so funny about it, but hey. 

“Tonight Tonight Tonight” One last time hitting this note, I promise: when I first learned it was about a junkie looking for a fix and not the band just looking for Michelob in a typical 80s nightscape, I had to marvel at how obvious it was, once you realize that. What a great vocal from Phil. Hard to believe this guy became a singer more or less accidentally.

“Land of Confusion” Great track. I remember when everyone went nuts for the metal remake. Not bad, I guess, but for me the remake just underscores how perfect the original is. Ditto for the metal remakes of “Blue Monday” and “Smooth Criminal” come to think of it. Remember when there was a metal remake of everything? And then a techno remake, and then a punk/hardcore remake? Simpler times, my friends, simpler times.

“In Too Deep” A placeholder for a certain type of 80s something-something, but not a song I enjoy.

“Anything She Does” Side Two opens up with this number, which always gives off a strangulation vibe to me. It’s not a great track, perhaps, but it makes 100% of my Genesis mixes, so there’s that. Seems essential for an inessential Genesis track.

“Domino” Essential any way you cut it. More awesome vocals from Phil. That “Nothing you can do when you’re the next in line” section through the end is as good as it gets. 

“Throwing It All Away” Speaking of as good as it gets. This riff is dynamite. The whole song is dynamite. I used to really love the video back in the day then didn’t think of the song for like twenty years, then one day heard it on some 80s hour lunch break and now I’d say I listen to it at least once a week. (Same thing happened with Billy Idol’s “Eyes Without a Face” while we’re here.)  

“The Brazilian” I had no real context for Genesis as a prog rock band when I first got this album. That came later. But from the first this song had a pull on my imagination. What was going on here? How did they get the synthesizer to make that wind whoosh out of the speakers sound? What is this, keys or drums? (It’s both.) Just fantastic. On a short list of cool rock keyboard songs. (Impromptu, incomplete version of such a list: “The Brazilian,” “Keep It Dark,” the live “Aquatarkus” by ELP from In Concert, “Joy” by Apollo 18, “Catherine of Aragon” and “Merlin the Magician” by Rick Wakeman, and “Love Theme from Boat Chips (total remix).” 

B-sides: "Do the Neurotic," now we're talking. What a cool solo. In the same way "Submarine" could be chopped up and redistributed to be the soundtrack of an entire film, this one could about cover a single episode of 80s TV. (I guess Tom Selleck had the same idea for "Mama" and that "Death and Taxes" episode of Magnum, eh?) I love the ending.

"Feeding the Fire" - great vocal, not the greatest song. Still, cool enough. And "I'd Rather Be You." I like this one. Did the Cure rip this off with "Why Can't I Be You?" Not really, I guess, but there's a similarity. To David Lee Roth's "Perfect Timing," as well. 

~

Genesis took the rest of the 80s off as a band while Phil and Tony put out more solo records, and Mike and the Mechanics hit it big (again) with The Living Years. That, then, brings us to the end of our overview. Thanks for joining me!

 

 

Whatever Happened to the Prog-Men of Tomorrow?

I wanted to take a non-exhaustive look at the later work of some of the bands discussed last time around before moving on to other musical pastures. As with before, this is not a sincere attempt to evaluate everything, just some thoughts and observations as filtered through the albums I had or have listened to. When someone pays me to be objective, hey, I'll pretend otherwise.

Until then! Let's look at the post-70s careers of some of the folks from last time. The 80s began with prog rock going mega-commercial with:

1.

ASIA

Formed from the ashes of Yes and Emerson Lake and Palmer and fronted alternatively by John Wetton, Greg Lake, and John Payne, Asia hit the bigtime with their debut album, but I first heard them via their Don't Cry video, a Raiders-parody of sorts and still my favorite Asia tune. My second ("True Colors") is also from this second album, but Alpha was not as popular as the band's debut, something repeated with each subsequent release.

Not to say they faded away into obscurity; they've certainly kept busy over the years. Just that for a brief period of time at the beginning of the 80s, Asia was a legit huge deal. "Heat of the Moment" and "Only Time Will Tell" will forever play on the same stations that play any other huge 80s hits. On a personal note - and as if my life did not reference 80s movies/mythos enough already - "Days Like These" played at my high school graduation party, and everyone cheered. (And then there was the freezeframe where I kissed the girl and announced that this was going to be the best summer ever.)

Steve Howe left Asia the first time to join up with ex-Genesis-axeman Steve Hackett for a whole different prog supergroup, GTR. I mention that one because I had the vinyl for years and never listened to it but hit play on this the other day. Yep. That right there is the 80s all right. 

2.

 ELP

ELP broke up in 1979, and Keith Emerson moved into soundtrack work, such as the soundtrack for Nighthawks. It's pretty good; here's the title track. I must have watched that movie a hundred times on VHS in 1982 / 1983. As I got older I wondered how my parents let that one fly. They were pretty strict on R-rated movies, but somehow Nighthawks was okay. Not that I'm complaining. As recently as a month or two ago, I got this in mind and laughed for days. I'm easily amused, especially with things that have this kind of longevity in my life.

Carl Palmer worked with Keith and Cozy Powell on Emerson Lake and Powell for a decent record, notable in my own chronology for first bringing Holst's Mars Bringer of War to my attention.

Greg Lake put out some solo stuff, worked with Ringo and Asia, then ELP got back together in the early 90s. 1992's Black Moon isn't bad; I caught them on the tour, and it was right around the time I was getting out of prog and almost didn't go. Looking back on it from 2017, though, with two-thirds of the band no longer with us, I'm quite happy I went.

3.

GENESIS

The conventional wisdom on Genesis is that they were uber-prog when Peter Gabriel was fronting the band, then Phil Collins corrupted the band with his radio-friendly ways. The broad strokes are somewhat accurate, but the actual story is more complicated. 

It was only with the release of Invisible Touch in 1986 that the band fully turned the corner into radio stardom; they had plenty of hits before this, just not the radio and MTV domination that IT brought them. But even so commercial a work as it has stuff like "The Brazilian" on it. Plus, say what you will about the radio-friendliness of something like "Throwing It All Away;" it's still a beautiful song. (One of the smoothest little guitar riffs ever.) 

Granted, by the time of 1991's We Can't Dance, most semblance of the old Genesis was gone, but anyone who wants to pretend Invisible Touch isn't one of the 80s best records is free to go on kidding him(or her)self.

Still have never listened to the band's (to date) last studio album from '97. I could have thrown that in for this final edit of this post. But did I? Nope.

Anyway, in addition to the commercial sensibility of the band slowly manifesting itself, the albums immediately leading up to Invisible Touch showcase how great of a keyboardist Tony Banks was/ is. Abacab, especially - that title track has gotten a lot of airplay over the writing of these posts - but Duke and their self-titled one, as well. Fantastic keyboard albums. My favorite song from this era is "Keep It Dark" - what a cool damn groove. 

4.

KING CRIMSON

After disbanding the group in 1974 and doing some pioneering work with Brian Eno, Robert Fripp reformed Crimson with Bill Bruford, Adrian Belew and Tony Levin in 1981, and the four have formed the core of the group ever since. They explored a very New Wave-y sort of prog in their early 80s work (which includes the wonderful duality of "Discipline"and "Indiscipline") and got increasingly diffuse over the 90s, right on down to now. Impossible to really summarize the past few decades of the band except to say, like Zappa or Tangerine Dream or Prince, they have become their own genre.

For years they put out these "Collectors Club" releases of select live shows, and I belonged to the mailing list for them. You signed up and they mailed you something from their vault every month. Not cheap but always so good and the liner notes were always amazing. They have such terrific design aesthetic; it augments the precision and boldness of the music perfectly.

It's difficult to restrain myself with links, since I've been such a close fan of these guys for decades and have accumulated dozens of favorites. They've also released so many great side projects, such as Robert Fripp's Soundscapes, or his work with the League of Crafty Guitarists (more on them in a second) or any of the ProjeKcts stuff, like Heavy Construkction. 

And still they find time to record brand new regular ol' KC classics like Happy With What You Have To be Happy With ("And for a second verse / I brew another pot / of am-bi-gu-it-y-y-y!" and "And this would seem to be as good as any other place to sing until I'm blue in the face!" always get a chuckle from me) or experimental stuff like 1996's Thrakattak. (For Madmen Only!)

Check this out, though, from one of Fripp's side projects, the League of Crafty Guitarists. It's called "Asturias" and is based on the old tune by Spanish composer Isaac Albéniz. I've been trancing to this for years and show no sign of stopping. By this point, I've developed an elaborate mental movie to accompany the music, and if I ever get the funds to do a series on Captain Cook's First Voyage and the Endeavour almost coming to wreck on the Great Barrier Reef, this will be the musical centerpiece of the series. I get serious goosebumps when I picture this and would give quite a bit to actually be able to watch it for real.

(Producers with deep pockets: you know where to find me.) 

5.

THE MOODY BLUES

 

I mentioned in the other post how the Moodies put out a whole lot of other prog than the one I included (Days of Future Passed.) I've never been able to hang with the group much outside that album, their radio tunes, and that "Timmy Leary's Dead" song. I'd be most grateful for anyone in the know to leave a list of recommended listening as I suspect the band has a lot of deep tracks I'd enjoy but simply don't know. 

I wanted to mention this video for "In Your Wildest Dreams," though, which my younger self found quite agreeable and my older self relates to on levels the former both could and couldn't imagine. I was the sort of kid who was very conscious of "Someday I'll look back on this..." moments. So, the video had that sort of appeal to me, I guess, but one thing I didn't imagine was looking back fondly on those days of imagining looking-back-fondly-on-something. I apologize for the mental pretzel, there, it's just a mirror maze of nostalgia around these parts and now I wonder if someday there will be a nostalgia-for-nostalgia-blog. You remember those days when I remembered those other days? Those were awesome.

Speaking of nostalgia, "Veteran Cosmic Rocker"is another fun one, from 1981's Long Distance Voyager. It covers the same sort of terrain as George Harrison's "When We Was Fab" or other 60s-rockers-recalling-their-youth-in-whimsical-British-fashion.

6.

 PINK FLOYD

Like you need me to tell you what Pink Floyd got up to after the proggy days of the 70s!

Some don't like the Waters-less Floyd albums (1987's A Momentary Lapse of Reason, 1994's The Division Bell, and 2014's The Endless River) but I do. They're a different flavor of the band, but that's the same story as any other band that started out in the 60s or 70s and their later material. (Except maybe Motorhead.) The Endless River received mixed reviews, but in some ways it's my favorite of all the post-Waters albums, just an unpretentious, mellow smooth, listening experience. (Said Gilmour upon its release: "Unapologetically, this is for the generation that wants to put its headphones on, lie in a beanbag, or whatever, and get off on a piece of music for an extended period of time. You could say it’s not for the iTunes, downloading-individual-tracks generation.") Here's a representative example. I like the jammy side of that record more than the lyrical, though really, I've no objection to any of it.

Less remarked upon are the solo bands put out by Floyd members. Radio KAOS might be the best of the lot, despite Waters' increasingly-agitated Mercedes-Marxist schtick. (Artists really need to just stay as far away from Marxism as possible. People in general, but these rich artistic types more than anyone. They just cannot handle it.) But Richard Wright's Broken China pleasantly surprised me. Not the cheeriest affair but quite well done.

7. 

YES

I mentioned how Asia will always be in rotation on the 80s-hit stations, just not my favorite songs. The same can be said for 80s Yes. "Owner of a Lonely Heart" is a great tune, admittedly, but that it gets all the attention over equally 80s-sounding-radio-friendly Yes hits like "Love Will Find a Way" or "Rhythm of Love" or "Changes" is ridiculous. 

Big Generator has the distinction of being an album I've loved, for three decades now, no matter what other musical phase I was in. A couple of years after Big Generator came out, four of the members of "classic" Yes (Jon Anderson, Bill Bruford, Rick Wakeman, and Steve Howe) put out (wait for it) Anderson, Bruford, Wakeman and Howe. I loved it at the time and still enjoy it every once and awhile but, by contrast, there is literally never a time where I'm not in the mood for Big Generator.

Is it my favorite Yes album? Well, not really. My favorite Yes stuff is the 70s prog mentioned last time. But in a way, it sort of is my favorite, as I occasionally need a break from even the awesome-70s stuff, whereas I never need one from BG. Songs like Shoot High Aim Low and I'm Running continue to hit my ears as just perfectly performed and produced pieces of music.

And now, a special treat for you. I don't really know any Yes post-ABWH, to be honest. Outside of Crimson, I didn't really keep up with any of the prog bands I loved in high school. But my buddy Kevin has, so I asked him if he'd care to review them for the blog. Kevin's someone whose musical opinion I trust pretty much across the board. Even when we disagree, I learn more from why or how he likes something than I would just listening on my own.

He provided some generous commentary and so without further ado, let's look at the subsequent output of Yes. Take it away, Kevin: 

Union (1991) and Talk (1994)

"Perhaps stronger than anything that's come since, Union is often outright dismissed among fans as illegitimate, because of all the extra studio musicians, because it wasn't collaborative really, and because the tour was "so much better". But it's got that cool slick late-80s/early 90s production sheen that you can only get with that era, and they really deck it out, sonically speaking. It might sorta date it, but you can see how they're trying to bring new sounds to the overall idea of Yes. And then, I personally find the record to be under-rated as pure songs. There are one or two that kinda stink ("Dangerous" and "Miracle of Life" for me) but the last three tracks are a great run of music. The first three as well, come to think of it. I'm good w/this album except those two tunes basically. It's really ABWH 2, and I liked ABWH just fine.

(As for Talk) how can this album not piss you off? All the promise of the CTTE/Fragile lineup returning to Yes thrown in the trash, along with the return of Roger Dean; all gone in favor of the hope of another "Owner of a Lonely Heart" which of course never came. Instead we get this love-it-or-hate-it album that only a Trevor Rabin fan can truly love. I have long complained about the art, a problem unto itself IMO. And the album is just not as good as the others from this lineup, except from a sort of technology standpoint. Yes, it's sonically neato. Otherwise it tries too hard where it shouldn't, and doesn't try hard enough where it should. I've been trying with this record the entire time, not growin' on me too much you might say.

Keys to Ascension (1996) and Open Your Eyes (1997)

"The mid-nineties is my favorite Yes era to hate on, so forgive me. There's no way to not see the Keys stuff as a total clusterfuck. You got the basic classic Yes lineup back but can't seem to truly get these same ol' ingredients to produce a great meal. Dean art reinstated, check. Wakeman/Howe noodling? Check. No 80s hit attempts, no Rabin; check. But what do we get? Two live albums with "bonus studio material", that is really like a near double-LP's worth of forced new studio stuff. Between its weak songcraft and weird live album presentation situations, this project is just plain weird and unsatisfying. Unless, you know, I happen to be on a wicked Yes bender, and then I actually kinda love the Keys shit.
 
Like Union, Open Your Eyes collects lots of hate. It's no worse than those last two projects, but somehow gets all the hate; not exactly sure why. Probably because Wakeman left and Billy Sherwood became a member. I really like it, despite some blatantly bad writing moments. It's just a pleasant record. "Universal Garden" is the standout, to me. I'm not sure if its underdog status has effected my opinion, but I generally defend this album. I guess it sounds more purposeful than Talk or Keys, to me. Songs are better. Doesn't piss me off, lol.

The Ladder (1999) and Magnification (2001)

"Bruce Fairbairn produced The Ladder, and it's obviously an attempt to focus the band and make a great record, after a series of missteps. It's pretty great, although its "epic" near the end is kinda lame IMO ("New Language") The rest of it is generally inspired and positive, and "It Will Be A Good Day (The River)" is still a goosebumps-type track. I am pretty fond of The Ladder. It's a very strong later-period effort, by any measure.

Magnification is maybe my personal favorite post-heyday work. A logical next step from the last several releases, and the last of a pretty busy run. This album is best appreciated as a whole, not as individual songs. When you can get into it that way, it's a very satisfying work and maybe even better than The Ladder.

Here's where you get into the weird zone.

Fly from Here (2011) and Heaven and Earth (2014)

"Fly From Here (has) Benoit David on lead vocals, but it's otherwise the Drama line up making a sequel to Drama. Pretty light and fluffy compared to Drama actually, but a reasonably decent effort all things considered. Probably too safe though. A little bit too AOR and not enough space hippie.

I like Heaven and Earth but admittedly only for what it is. It's got a couple moments but I'm not particularly into their new singer. I had high hopes for the guy. Seems like a good dude, I guess. I got a great vinyl edition of this album, which honestly helps. Two basic problems with this record: 1) too lite-rock sounding, no edge whatsoever, and 2) half the songs are good, the other half are pretty dreadful. And I fuckin' never use that word if I can help it."

~

Kevin Silvia is an old friend, bandmate, and one of my favorite songwriters and guitarists; he currently plays bass with The Grass Gypsies. Thanks for reviewing these later Yes albums, bud!

So long from Prog-land. Next stop: ZZ Top-ville. See you then.