(reviewed by John McFerrin)
Yes did something a bit on the unusual side for their 2000 summer tour. The band had finished the tour for The Ladder just a couple of months earlier when the band began deliberating on a setlist for the new tour, and guitarist Steve Howe wasn't exactly jumping at the bit to go touring with another "greatest hits tour." I mean, sure, they had freshened up the list for the last tour (for instance, doing Perpetual Change for the first time in forever), but still, they weren't incoporating that many surprises into the set. And so, Steve asked, "Why don't we do a tour where we only play twenty minute songs?" And strangely enough, the band wasn't against it. Jon Anderson actually loved the idea - he immediately said, "We could call it 'The Masterworks Tour'." And then they took it one step further - they placed a poll on yesworld.com where people could vote for what two songs (of any length) they would most like to hear on the upcoming tour. Eventually, the band decided that they also had some "moderate-length" songs that qualified as "masterworks" and that they could incorporate into the set, and away they went to learn them, dumping extra guitarist Billy Sherwood in the process.
Fast forward a couple of months to early July. Every year, Chicago holds a ten-day festival of food and free music called The Taste of Chicago, and to my utmost glee, Yes was to play there on the final Saturday of the festival. Not only that, but the concert would be FREE - I would just have to make sure to get there early enough to get good seats. So a friend from my church in Urbana, Il, where I go to school, drove up to my home in Joliet. From there my parents (who had never listened to Yes before, and pretty much decided beforehand that they wouldn't really like the concert, but at the same time wanted to go to The Taste) drove us to The Taste.
We got there at about 5:15, about 45 minutes before Kansas, the opening act (co-headliner, my ass) was to begin. Once there, I discovered that the key to getting seats in the small (roughly 4000 seat) pavilion near the stage was getting our hands stamped to get in and then fend for ourselves. Since there were a bunch of Kansas fans there already, Ray (the person going with me) and myself ended up in the back fourth of the rows, but since Kansas sucks, I didn't really mind. In fact, I ducked out of the pavillion a number of times to try and figure out where the hell my parents were (they had told Ray where I could expect to rendevous with them at the end, but neglected to mention it to me, and my mother couldn't hear her cell phone ring because she had set it to play a "cute" little melody rather than a loud *RIIINNNNGGGG*).
But back to Kansas. I didn't have high expectations for these guys, and they didn't disappoint. The keyboardist/vocalist continually doing a jig behind his keys got old REALLY fast, and the only interesting thing about their appearance was the eye patch that the bassist had. And the music.. ugh. UGH. I hadn't heard anything from them except Carry On My Wayward Son (which, despite myself, I almost like) and Dust in the Wind (which I HATE), and nothing else in their set impressed me at all. I clapped loudly at the end, but that's because I was applauding the fact that they were leaving the stage.
More importantly, Kansas fans were exiting en masse, and the two of us were able to move up to about 15-20 rows back, on the side of the bass amp. And so we waited for the band. There had been some storm clouds forming during Kansas' set, but they continually disipated, leaving a gorgeous blue sky in their wake. Various band assistants scurried about the stage, getting instruments in tune and in place.
At last, we began to hear the faint strains of Benjamin Britten's Young Person's Guide to the Orchestra pouring through the speakers, as the assistants finished their rounds. After what seemed like eternity of the tape, I could see Igor Khoroshev (keyboards) and Alan White (drums) peeping through a door on the side, and eventually they walked to their spots. Chris Squire (bass) followed, with Jon Anderson and Steve Howe in tow. And then ....
... the chirping birds began to come through the speakers. After an appropriate amount of time, White's triple cymbal tap signaled the band to launch into Close to the Edge. I couldn't hear Steve much at all, since he was on the opposite end of the stage, but this was a small price to pay for the overpowering rumble of Squire's bass. I had never really realized just how interesting the bass parts in the chaotic intro were until now - it was quite the revelation. What was really awesome, was something that I had never imagined - people standing up and *dancing* to that intro. On the other hand, now that the band has streamlined the intro a wee bit, slowing it down and increasing the intensity, it was definitely a good head banging and body jerking opportunity.
Eventually, Jon began singing, and his voice seemed a bit stuffed up. It was good, of course, but it sounded as if he was coming down with something (which he did a week or so later). Eventually, though, it cracked, and I Get Up I Get Down went off splendidly. The bootleg recording I have of the concert (ordered from a guy in England) is marred slightly by a bunch of bastards yelling "WAZZUP" at very annoying points in time, but I could hear no such thing at the time. Eventually, the song wound its way into the grand finale, and as the final notes faded away, all I could think was, "Damn. I just got to hear Close to the Edge live. Damn!"
Jon walked up to the mic and began to recite some lines from the next song, presumably as 'poetry', but obviously because he wanted to make sure that he could remember the words (this has been a problem with him in recent years.) Indeed, we got to hear "Speak to me of summer, long distance ... *crowd laughs* long summers longer ... (and so on)." And the band launched into Starship Trooper with lots of volume and energy. The highlight of the intro passage was a bunch of birds flying low overhead as Jon sang "Sister bluebird, flying high above". Meanwhile, the Dillusion sequence turned into a nice clap-along (although Steve flubbed the chording a bit - you wouldn't have known, though, if it weren't for the fact that Steve's grimace could be seen from a mile away), and Wurm was as damn impressive as ever. Squire through in some of his familiar funk bass lines, teasing the crowd with strange stage antics and exciting the crowd even when he would just play one note and stop for five measures. Igor was going nuts in the background to great effect, and while Steve's counterpoint was shorter than I would have liked, it was still plenty impressive, and the piece ended as magnificently as it began.
Jon walked to the mic and then announced to the crowd that the band had decided that on this tour, they would play some songs they hadn't played in 25 years. The crowd cheered. He then announced the next song as The Gates of Delirum, and the place absolutely went nuts. The opening third of the piece was impressive enough, with Jon taking the aggressive approach to his vocals that live versions of the song demand. And the middle "battle" part ... wow. Wow. I simply could not get myself to sit down through its entirety, as I stood and cheered like a madman almost throughout. And when they hit Soon, with Steve sitting at his pedal steel and Jon singing and strumming an acoustic, it was as though an angel had descended from heaven to bring us this message of peace and hope. Amazing would not begin to describe this peace that I witnessed.
Song four was introduced as Heart of the Sunrise. As Yes fans should know, Squire absolutely owns this song, and hearing that awesome riff again and again while displaying absolutely fascinating stage movements was truly a sight to behold. During the "main" part of the song, he accidentally through in an extra repetition of the riff (or else Igor COMPLETELY missed a cue), but other than that, the number was simply astounding.
The crowd applauded for about a minute, and then we saw Jon walking towards the mic with an acoustic guitar around his neck. He then spoke - "Actually, I'd like to ask you a question... We were thinking about playing a song from Tales from Topographic Oceans *crowd cheers madly* ... but we've decided to play I've Seen All Good People *small cheers, lots of boos* ... Ok, we'll play the song from Tales from Topographic Oceans *HUGE cheer*... I'm just confused." I later figured out the background behind this - 97.9 The Loop, the classic rock radio station sponsoring this free concert, was a little uncomfortable with the idea of Yes playing a "hardcore fans" concert for a gathering that would mostly be people wanting to hear Owner of a Lonely Heart. Hence, they wanted them to "tone down" the setlist for this crowd. Fortunately, the reaction of the crowd to the declaration that Ritual was about to be played should have been all the info they needed (although several fans left at this announcement).
And so the band went into the song. The instrumental intro was tight as on record, the repeated Nous Somme Du Soleil singings were soothing, the main melody was wonderful as ever (with surprisingly good harmonies from Chris) ... and then the bass solo. If you've never heard the bass solo from the Yesshows version of Ritual, get that album NOW. This was pretty much the same solo, with a twist here and there, and it ruled incessantly.
Not as much as what came next, though. Those familiar with Ritual know that the piece breaks off into a weird, synth heavy drum solo for about three minutes, and this live version was faithful to that. But this was no ordinary drum solo, no no. First, Anderson began banging on some vertical chimes, while Igor flew around his keyboards throwing samples at the audience, as White began banging away. Then Chris began banging on a pair of tympanis. And then _Igor_ jumped down and began banging on some snares and his keyboard stands. And they were all TIGHT. It only lasted about three minutes, unfortunately, before Steve's guitar summoned us from the fray and into the ending Nous Somme Du Soleil. To call myself emotionally drained and complete adrenalized would be the understatement of the year.
And then, finally, something for the "casual" fans. Jon began playing some familiar chords while saying that his son, while learning to play guitar, asked him if he had ever written something for those chords. He said he had, and it was this, as the band went into the Your Move section of I've Seen All Good People. For some reason, many fans have grown to hate this song, but I don't agree much at all. And the All Good People section was great as ever.
The band left the stage, and then returned for an encore of Roundabout. Steve was actually in terrific form for this one, throwing in a number of variations on the acoustic arpeggios that pop up repeatedly in the song. Chris was his usual bass-god self (I must admit, I was a dork who yelled out "Chris Squire is God!" after Heart of the Sunrise), and ... yeah. Then it was over, and I filed out and went home. I found out that my parents, who had ended up listening from the lawn behind the pavillion, had been mostly bored stiff by the concert, especially the long pieces, but I didn't really care. This concert is a memory that I will probably treasure for the rest of my life.