----------------------------------------------------- JULY 2, 2003 ----------------------------------------------------- Source: Glastonbury Festival http://www.glastonburyfestivals.co.uk/ YES: Oh Yes They Do By Paul Mills OneWorld Stage - Sunday Blazing sunshine and muggy air are not conducive for a good prog experience, particularly when the masters of arthouse pomposity are performing their overblown bombastic elaborations at their first ever Glastonbury appearance. Yes, despite the concerned cries of ‘Are you sure' that will no doubt follow, have never been here before and that makes another one you can add to your list of Glasto trivia to annoy people with. The originators of the two-word review (‘Yes? Maybe.’, not ‘Sh*t Sandwich’) are back in as much of their original line up as is comfortable. Anderson returns, a little plumper than of old, but still with that annoying voice like the whistle of a boiling kettle that can only really be tolerated rather than enjoyed, like a vocal version of pilates. He’s wearing what appears to be purple pyjamas and a lime green t-shirt; only an old hippy can wear something like that and make it work. Returning also is Rick Wakeman, who hasn’t changed one iota in the last 30-odd years and still has the worst dress sense in existence. Steve Howe is as laconic and cool as he ever was, like some hippy uncle that always turns up at weddings pissed and plays guitar in the corner of the bar just to annoy people. Mr White returns on drums and blimey, look at the size of Chris Squire! Did he have one too many pies or what? Still, it’s the music that matters and it’s pretty damn fine regardless of how ridiculous they look. Yes, though, are unique in the prog world. There’s nobody actually doing stuff like Yes other than Yes, and that’s only because nobody else can be bothered. It’s enough having Yes in the world without having someone else trying to copy what can’t be copied for fear of ridicule. Like them or not, they’re the absolute masters of over-statement, so exquisitely precise and angular yet flowing so smoothly. Wakeman especially is upfront about grabbing the real attention from the others, looking down from his throne like he’s at Castle Rick, playing ambidextrously as always and wearing groovy robes because, well, he can. ’Magnification’ is out of tune so they start again, but it’s just a dropped stitch to Yes who lovingly caress and massage the tension out of their tunes. They’re like a glorious slow session of er, ‘relaxing in a gentleman’s way’ because if you fancy passion, sincerity love and lust, then Yes scratch the itch; but if what you really feel like is a fastidious solo on the old one-string bass, you really cannot beat them. You have to be in a special mood for Yes, because they’re the sort of band that you have records of but rarely play because, as beautiful as the music is, they’re an acquired taste and it doesn’t go with company. Still, thousands of bubbles are floating stagewards, so let’s just relax. People care. To many, Yes create the finest music in the world and they mean it most sincerely. They may be mildly irritating, but they truly are magnificent at what they do. Majestic, pompous, pretentious and overreaching at all times, they’re a musician’s band that know intimately the deep spiritual magic that can be generated by people who just connect musically. That’s the reason they seem to take so long to actually get anywhere; they’re enjoying what they do so much - why not wring every last variation out of it? It’s a trip down Memory Lane for Yes, but they play it safe. They wouldn’t dare leave out ‘Roundabout’ and on the whole they don’t disappoint. Although completely at the wrong time of day, there’s little to fault with Yes as they are. 34 years have given them a touch of class that snobbery dictates they shouldn’t have, but which reality gives them gratefully. Close Window YesInThePress.com For site comments, problems, corrections, or additions, contact YesinthePress@aol.com