There was a time, perhaps a year or two in the 80’s, when producer Trevor Horn seemed like he could do no wrong. But perhaps the biggest hat trick that he ever did was to transform Yes into a cobweb inducing progressive rock band into a slick little new wave outfit like he did with their 1983 effort,
90125.
As you can probably tell, I’m not a Yes fan. I’m proficient with their A.O.R. staples, but I lose interest quickly when I see that longhair Rick Wakeman or strange-tooth Steve Howe approach their instruments with the intention of blessing us with a full half hour of noodling with classical overtones.
I’m all about the noodling, mind you, but when you start moving more toward Beethoven and away from Berry (Chuck), then I get a little nervous.
I was a little intrigued once when my uncle told me that the loudest concert he ever saw was mid-70’s Yes.
The band also created a minor dispute between my dad and me once, ironically on a trip to see that aforementioned uncle. On the car ride up, I threw in a cassette of Yes’ Drama, thinking it would be a nice compromise between my growing eclectic tastes and dad’s growingly conservative ones.
I was wrong.
He made me hit the eject button about halfway through “Machine Messiah,” declaring that the music was “too loud” and distracting him from driving.
If you’re keeping score, two people in my family have now referred to Yes’ volumous performance.
Understanding that I’m fairly underwhelmed with Yes, nothing prepared me for the first time I heard “Owner Of A Lonely Heart” on the radio. With Horn’s trademarked orchestral stabs and ultra-sheen rhythms, this sounded nothing like the Yes that I’d heard before. And before too long, everyone and their dog seemed to be picking up copies of
90125.
Even with the noticeable forays into commercial appeal, something still managed to sound unmistakably “Yes.” Even with Horn’s updated production values, there remained hints of progressive elements and Yes’ (particularly vocalist Jon Anderson) trademark vocals.
Strangely, the aforementioned production sounded wonderfully futuristic at the time of
90125’s release, only to be relegated to that 80’s time capsule by the time the next decade rolled around. It still sounds like a product of its decade, but the remastered version restores the full spectrum of sound where ever instrument is shown, revealing some intricate arrangements. There’s some new bite to it, particularly with Alan White’s drumming, and everything seems washed in gated reverb. Horn seems to have spared nothing in terms of utilizing every studio trick available to him in 1983 and, as a result,
90125 encompasses all that was wrong with 80’s production techniques while quite possibly becoming that decade’s most important reference point. Seriously: this is the album one consider when examining the recording strategies of that decade.
Song-wise, there is not a dude to be found. The remastered version does include some nifty bonus tracks of extended versions and different mixes, all of which (again) highlight the amount of time and energy that must have taken place in the studio. I do remember a few fans actually purchasing the 12” remixes of this stuff back in the day and, although repetitive, they’re all reworked to a point where some actually sound different.
Actually, the bonus cut of “It Can Happen” sounds different because it’s an example of the origins of the
90125. The project actually started when former members of Yes were considering retiring the moniker and using the name Cinema instead. That all changed when Jon Anderson came back to the fold during the recording process and, as the early version of “It Can Happen” demonstrates, his inclusion makes a world of difference. If the other versions were the same as this, Cinema would have become a forgettable document of that era, limited in appeal and relevance.
Thankfully, someone had the good sense to press forward and make
90125 into an important record, not only within the Yes catalog, but also in terms of one of the 80’s better releases.
Before you dismiss such a notion, consider that there were a large number of people that also dismissed Yes when they originally released
90125. What changed that perception back then was the songs. And since they’re still good now as they were back then, perhaps your own indifference is ripe for a new deliberation.
