-----------------------------------------------------
AUGUST 23, 2002
-----------------------------------------------------

Source: Las Vegas Review-Journal

http://www.lvrj.com/lvrj_home/2002/Aug-23-Fri-2002/weekly/19423325.html

Not Just a Yes Man
Alan White's drumming career goes beyond progressive rock 

By Doug Elfman

Alan White played a notable role in shaping classic rock by drumming and writing for Yes, one of the most dominant progressive-rock bands to emerge from the 1970s. The group still records and tours. Yes plays the Las Vegas Hilton this weekend.

But before Yes, when White was merely 20, he secured a different function in rock history. He played drums, percussion, Tibetan finger cymbals and vibraphone on John Lennon's early solo records, "Imagine" and "Plastic Ono Band."

White, now 53, didn't appreciate then how big the Lennon gigs were, or following recording jobs with George Harrison and Eric Clapton.

"I was so young at that time, I thought that was what rock and roll was, and that's what I was supposed to be doing. I didn't realize it was such a big break for me to play with somebody like him and Eric Clapton, and become friends with them, too," White says.

Lennon took White under his wing, because White was naive, even if he was taking part in recording vastly influential albums.

"John was really nice to me. I stayed out at the (Lennon) house when we made `Imagine.' I played vibraphone, and he would always say, `Good vibes,' " White says and chuckles.

Most things written and said publicly about Lennon and Yoko Ono are correct, except few understand how close they were, White says.

"They were all more family-oriented than people think. They were put on a pedestal. But John and Yoko were great together. They never left each other's side," White says. "They were just very much in love with each other."

Wherever Lennon or any former Beatle went, "the whole room revolved around that person," White says.

"What's funny is, when I did `All Things Must Pass' with George, every day, we'd all turn up at the studio and there'd be a big band," including Lennon on acoustic guitar, Harrison and Clapton, he says. "Then Ringo (Starr) came in. So there's, like, three Beatles in the room."

During one session, Lennon floored White by picking White's drum sticks over Starr's, he says.

"We were talking about the next song and how we would approach playing it. And I thought, obviously, Ringo's got to play on this. But John said, `No, no, no. Ringo, you play tambourine. I want Alan to play drums on this one.' And I went, `Whoa. OK.' And he stood next to me playing tambourine. I felt a little bit like: I'll do whatever you say."

White also performed on Ono's original songs.

"It would be me, Eric, and John, and myself, and (others). We were recording a track, and she wanted to do it live, and she was in a sack on the floor with a microphone. We were just chugging along."

Not long ago, White saw Ono at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, when the Hall opened a Lennon exhibit. He says Ono was as nice as ever.

"She's a very organized businesswoman now who's got a lot of control over everything John had," White says." Basically, she seems a little naive to what's going on around her. The world's a big place for her. But she's really, really clever, and she's made sure nobody capitalized on John's wealth."

It was sad for White, though, to see an unopened bag at the Lennon exhibit.

"She's never, ever opened the bag that the police gave her. A pair of his sunglasses with bloodstains on them, things like that," he says. "At the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame exhibit, they've still got John's old clothes in the bag."

White left Lennon's fold to go to work for Yes. That was 30 years ago. Yes continues to hold rapt audiences of prog-rock fans.

The band's current tour includes on-again, off-again keyboardist Rick Wakeman. White says Wakeman's presence doesn't sell more concert tickets, but he does fill out the band's five-man "magical" lineup of White, Wakeman, singer Jon Anderson, bass player Chris Squire and guitarist 
Steve Howe.

White says that fivesome became tight players together in the 1970s, and now when Wakeman is around, Yes is a "full unit."

"The road guys who work with us say it never, ever sounds quite the same unless Rick's playing with us," White says. "It's sort of, like, he's the catalyst that makes us work."

The band is touring following the release of two new musical products. Last year's album of new material, "Magnification," petered out, saleswise, because of record company woes. Also out is 
"In A Word: Yes (1969- )," a five-CD box set that showcases 55 remastered songs, including some
previously unreleased tunes and rarities.

A radio friend of the band's recently advised Yes to remain an "elegant group that doesn't bow to commercial pressure," White says.

No problem, White says. The band isn't concerned about commercial success.

"If a hit record comes along, we don't mind it. But we don't do it intentionally that way. And if you don't do it intentionally that way, it will come back to you," he says.

That quality-first attitude helped make the 1983 Yes album, "90125," a surprise hit, he says. That album's biggest hit, "Owner of a Lonely Heart," just barely made the cut.

"We just needed one other track to fill up a certain amount of time, and (guitarist-songwriter) Trevor Rabin came on and says, `I've got this little ditty,' " White remembers. "We said, `You should record that, Trevor,' and he said, `Ah, I don't know.' "

The whole middle section of "Owner of a Lonely Heart," with its big-band horn breakout, was an accident, too. White was messing around with a sampler in the studio and Rabin overheard it, then worked it into the song.

"Magnification" was the result of another, long-valued Yes writing process, White says. The band members wrote it in a three- to four-week stretch in a Santa Barbra, Calif., studio. They wrote in a democratic way, as an organized group of individuals adding each of their ideas to songs, knowing
they would add orchestral sounds later.

In concert, Yes has continued performing long sets with improvised and planned rhythm and melody changes, and lengthening songs.

But in Las Vegas, the Hilton has asked the band to shorten its typical multihour show. Quite a few fans have posted hateful things on the Internet about the Hilton's abbreviated time limit.

White says bandmates are considering playing only certain Yes songs, and cutting out material from the band members' solo albums.

"Usually, we play three hours," White says, sounding bemused about the time restriction. "In an hour, we can play only three or four songs."


Close Window


YesInThePress.com
For site comments, problems, corrections, or additions, contact YesinthePress@aol.com