----------------------------------------------------- NOVEMBER 12, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------- Source: Chicago Metromix http://metromix.com/top/1,1419,M-Metromix-CriticsReviews-X!ArticleDetail-60010,00.html Rock review, Yes at the Chicago Theatre By Rick Reger You can chalk it up to longevity or you can chalk it up to album sales. But no matter how you gauge success, the band Yes stands as the quintessential symbol of '70s progressive rock. Yes also merits that distinction because its music embodies what made prog-rock so exciting and so reprehensible. And both facets of the group's sound were displayed during Yes' well-attended set at the Chicago Theatre Thursday night. The show was particularly exciting for fans because it found Yes' classic mid-'70s lineup — vocalist Jon Anderson, bassist Chris Squire, guitarist Steve Howe, drummer Alan White — reunited with flamboyant keyboardist Rick Wakeman. During the set opener, "Siberian Khatru," Wakeman — in a glittering cape, of course — had the fans on their feet by bouncing among his keyboards to contribute fast, fluid string textures, harpsichord runs, squiggly synthesizer lines and steamy organ chords. Yes filled the first half of its generous 2+-hour performance with newer material, which occasionally rocked, occasionally dazzled but often simply billowed like so much artsy stage smoke. Vocalist Anderson may have traded in his white robes for "earthier" lavender sweats, but his fondness for New Age Muzak often undermined the band's newer material. One longer, recent piece began with a syrupy piano ballad that could have served as the title song to a Meg Ryan movie, while "Don't Kill the Whale" came off as an earnest but melodically punchless anthem that should have been harpooned years ago. In one of the evening's genuinely charming moments, a children's choral group from Lincolnwood was asked to join Yes on stage for an acoustic rendition of "Nine Voices (Longwalker)" after members of the band overheard the choir singing one if its songs earlier in the city. Yes eventually tapped into what made it famous with "South Side of the Sky," a craggy, jagged rocker that the band dusted off and delivered with all the rough-edged energy that marked Yes' best early work. The song bristled with the crunchy riffing and prickly fills of reinvigorated guitarist Howe, whose specially rigged guitar stands enabled him to move from electric to acoustic to lap steel axes without missing a beat. But what truly kept Yes from going over the edge into a mystic pastel mist was its rhythm section. Bassist Squire still wields his trademark Rickenbacker like a thunder stick, and drummer White looked and played like he's still got some unresolved issues of youth coursing through his veins. The power with which White, Howe and Squire pounded out the ascending/descending riff that opened "Heart of the Sunrise" provided a stunning contrast to Anderson's angelic, clarion singing during the song's wistfully beautiful verses and choruses. Yes' set also mingled riveting renditions of long-form epics "Close to the Edge" and "Awaken" among sometimes self-indulgent individual soloing. In so doing, it captured both the band's and the prog-rock movement's yin and yang of innovative fusion and fatuous virtuosity. Close Window YesInThePress.com For site comments, problems, corrections, or additions, contact YesinthePress@aol.com