------------------------------------------------------- MARCH 25, 1984 ------------------------------------------------------- Source: Los Angeles Times YES Changes Tune, Scores with Big Hits By Dennis Hunt Yes is the only band in pop music history to die an uppity, progressive (classically oriented) rock band and be resurrected as a pop/rock band specializing in dance music. The old Yes would have snootily turned up its nose at "90125," the new band's current album, and certainly wouldn't have been caught dead playing "Owner of a Lonely Heart," the band's recent hit single. Not only was it No. 1, it s been a favorite in discos (the 12-inch dance mix, featuring extended instrumentals and de-emphasized lyrics, is absolutely marvelous). But the resurrected Yes, which will play Monday and Wednesday at the Forum and Tuesday at the San Diego Sports Arena, has the last laugh. "90125" has sold nearly 2.5 million copies. Only one of the old Yes albums even cracked the million mark, and not by much. And in 11 years, the old band didn't even have one Top 10 single. Its most popular single was "Roundabout," which went to No. 13 in 1972. Yes died four years ago, a victim of mediocre albums and fan disinterest. Fans tired of the group's brand of grandiose, pretentious rock. Judging from the last few albums, the band was tired of the music too. The parade of personnel changes, keyboards player Rick Wakeman even joined and dropped out twice, didn't help either. The person largely responsible for the Yes rebirth is Trevor Rabin, a 29-year-old singer/songwriter/guitarist from South Africa. He was barely into adolescence when bassist Chris Squire, singer Jon Anderson, drummer Bill Bruford, guitarist Peter Banks and keyboards player Tony Kaye formed Yes in the late '60s. Two years ago, two years after the band's demise, Squire and drummer Alan White, remnants the final edition of Yes, were looking to start a new band. "I got a call from Chris (Squire), who was in London,'' recalled Rabin, a local resident. "I had written a lot of material and they wanted to try it out. So I went to London and we played the material together. It didn't sound great but it felt good. It seemed like there was a lot of potential in the project." At the time, Rabin had been working on a solo career. His three Chrysalis albums didn't sell very well but had earned him a reputation as a first-rate musician. Just before meeting the former Yes men, he said no to an invitation to join the pop-rock band Asia. "Being in Asia didn't seem like the kind of thing I should be doing," Rabin observed. "What turned me off is that no one seemed to be interested in doing anything new. What Chris (Squire) and Alan ( White ) were offering was far more exciting. There was more of a chance to experiment." Rabin had another option, a solo contract with RCA. As it turned out. the material he had planned to use for an RCA album wound up as the nucleus of "90125," the Yes comeback album. Initially, he wasn't wild about the idea of working with Squire and White. "On a business level it didn't look very good, " Rabin said. "Nothing was finalized. Everything looked a bit vague. I was going to take the deal with RCA. One has to eat, you know. But the band's management company (Lookout) basically persuaded me to go with the band." Then it was called Cinema. Even though a third ex-Yes man, original keyboards player Tony Kaye, had joined, they still didn't want to call it Yes. "It didn't sound like Yes even though there were three people from Yes in the band," Rabin said. "So why call it Yes?" After the album was finished, Rabin and Squire had a idea. Why not use Jon Anderson, the original Yes singer, on a couple of songs? "After he got involved we went back and changed some of the melodic ideas and the lyrics," Rabin recalled. "I had done a lot of the lead vocals, but I didn't mind Jon stepping in to do some." Anderson had been with the band until Trevor Horn replaced him on the final album in 1980. But now they were working together. Horn, you see, has basically given up singing and was hired to produce the "90125" album, adding another former Yes man to the project. By that time there were so many Yes men involved that calling the band Cinema seemed silly. Thus, Yes was officially reborn. According to Rabin, part of that rebirth has been acquiring a new audience "The other night Jon (Anderson) was telling me that in the old days the crowd was 99.9% guys, with long hair and beards. But now the audience is hipper. There's a whole new audience of young people who are hearing Yes for the first time. They've heard the new album and liked it. They liked 'Owner of a Lonely Heart' and the other dance tunes and they come to dance. So now we get some girls in the audience and some blacks too. "I'm really excited about having blacks in the audience. Coming from South Africa, that means something special to me." How about the old Yes fans who come to hear Yes oldies? "There's something for them too," Rabin insisted. "We play some of the old stuff but we bring a new sound and style to it. I think most of the old fans have accepted the fact that Yes isn't what it used to be. But I'm sure there are some who resent the changes. We can't really worry about those people. We hate to lose them but what can we do?" Rabin left his native South Africa and apartheid in 1977. "The main reason I finally left was because of the politics. I have no intention of ever going back there to live." But Rabin can't completely discount his South African experience. Musically, it was quite rewarding. Because of his extensive classical training, he's skilled at composing, conducting and orchestration. Those talents helped him get work on movie scores and in commercials. They also come in handy when he's producing and recording. Those skills also helped him become a South African pop star, in a group called Rabbit. "At the risk of sounding arrogant, we were like the Beatles of South Africa," he explained. But after Rabbit ran its course, Rabin had no further reason to stay in South Africa. He moved to London in 1977 and, after making some anonymous disco records, started a solo career. At first, though, living in London was a harrowing experience for him. "Coming out of South Africa, where I was well known, it was weird to go to a place where I couldn't even get a job. It was a struggle, but it was progress. At least I didn't have to deal with South Africa anymore." Close Window YesInThePress.com For site comments, inquiries, corrections, or additions, contact yitp@yesservices.com