----------------------------------------------------- NOVEMBER 30, 2001 ----------------------------------------------------- Source: London Guardian http://www.guardian.co.uk/arts/reviews/story/0,11712,704894,00.html Who needs Rick Wakeman? By Dave Simpson Yes Apollo, Manchester Rating: *** When a band member is missing, they are usually replaced like for like. But Yes, minus notoriously flamboyant keyboardist Rick Wakeman, have augmented their line-up with an entire orchestra. Yes have never done anything by halves. Formed in 1968, they were one of the original prog rock supergroups, and in their 1970s heyday no song was ever long enough, no guitar solo could contain too many notes. Their 1973 experimental opus Tales of Topographic Oceans convinced would-be punks that this sort of rock folly simply had to stop. And now they are adding longevity to their grandiose list of achievements. Though they enjoyed a successful pop period in the early 1980s, frontman Jon Anderson has declared a return to the band's original spirit. And that means the least fashionable music in existence. You have to admire Yes's devotion to duty following years of press ridicule. The Roger Dean Yes logo, scaled down to roughly the size of Spinal Tap's Stonehenge, hangs defiantly above the stage. Anderson, arms aloft, wears purple pantaloons. Bassist Chris Squire, who delivers a solo that sounds like a small war, skips around the stage in what appear to be women's leggings. They haven't got this far without a sly sense of irony. After one interminable number Anderson confesses, "We got through that song, that's the main thing." The crowd adore them, and if they don't cry for individual songs, it's only because The Fish (Shindleria Praematurus) doesn't exactly roll off the tongue. The music, however, is clearly still a serious business, and the sheer scale of the sound is impressive. A rock band with orchestra should sound pompous, but Yes's sincere, painstaking, multi-faceted tapestries benefit greatly. There are one or two sequences that should be accompanied by an invasion of dancing gnomes, but in gentler passages, with Anderson's choirboy voice and the violins humming sweetly, the music has a powerful, childlike innocence that's a world away from the musicianship taken to create it. The stage is crammed with musical instruments, but Yes wheel on still more as the night proceeds. And there's a final concession to pop with a sung-along I've Seen All Good People. Yes are utterly uncool, but it's hard to begrudge them their standing ovation. Prog with a smile, not a po face. Yes play the Brighton Centre (0870 900 9100) tomorrow, then tour. Close Window YesInThePress.com For site comments, problems, corrections, or additions, contact YesinthePress@aol.com