22nd October 1989
Edinburgh Playhouse
In the nine years since I had last seen Yes in concert,
the group had undergone all manner of convoluted and frankly incestuous intercouplings;
the complete detailing of which would make a Dickens novel read like an episode
of Mr Benn in comparison.
But to summarise: After the Drama tour, Trevor Horn had
decided he had had enough of pretending to be a rock star and quit to
concentrate on studio production. Steve Howe
and Geoff Downes looked to bolster their pension fund in Asia (the band not the
continent), leaving rhythm section Chris Squire and Alan White holding the baby.
The pair briefly flirted with Jimmy Page, before joining
up with South African guitarist Trevor Rabin, and then inviting Yes founder members,
vocalist Jon Anderson and keyboard player Tony Kaye back into the fold. This incarnation enjoyed a deal of success
particularly in the US, before Anderson disappeared once more, to link up with
Howe plus a brace of other former Yes-men Rick Wakeman and Bill Bruford: this outfit recording and touring as
Anderson, Bruford, Wakeman, Howe (or ABWH).
Squire and White were at this point touting their own particular version
of Yes featuring Rabin and Billy Sherwood, around the US record companies. (You are keeping up, I hope?).
In 1991, with the
lawyers on both sides circling like buzzards, the two outfits chose to take the
path of least resistance and merge, with the resultant Frankenstein-esque
creature releasing an album called Union.
However, in my opinion, the music contained therein was so
eye-wateringly awful, the collection really should have been called Onion.
The multifarious silliness did not stop there, and I must point you in the direction of Wikipedia should you wish any more gen
on the greatest soap opera in prog-rock history. You really could not make up the Khoroshev
and David episodes.
Anyway, ABWH (remember them?) undertook a short tour of
the UK in 1989, advertised as “An Evening of Yes music”. Bassist for the tour was Bruford’s former
King Crimson colleague Tony Levin, whose extensive talents I am guessing would
barely have been taxed by what was asked of him.
Proceedings opened with Anderson alone strumming away on an
acoustic guitar, singing a rather pleasant little medley, his voice in fine
form. He made way for Howe, who rattled
through his traditional acoustic set of Clap and Mood For A Day linked by some vaguely classical sounding piece. Wakeman was next,
with an instrumental version of Madrigal from the Tormato album, before performing
a selection of snippets from his solo releases.
Our first sight of Bruford came when, resplendent in white
top and silly baggy trousers, he tapped a tambourine along to Long Distance
Runaround, before jumping up onto his podium to bash away at his electronic
drum kit for a spell.
Thereafter the show was split between new songs (all
universally naff with the possible exception of the rather twee Meeting) and
classics from the 1971-72 period. All good
fun, but it did all feel decidedly un-Rock’n’Roll. The volume certainly could have done with
being jacked up a few decibels, but the real low point came during an interval,
when usherettes appeared carrying trays of ice cream and sweets.
“It’s supposed to a rock concert, and they’re buying fucking
King-Cones!” spat my companion C in disgust at the queues of eager customers.
Setlist
Time and a Word/Owner of a Lonely Heart/Teakbois
The Clap
Areda
Mood For a Day
Madrigal/Gone But Not Forgotten/Catherine Parr/Merlin the
Magician
Long Distance Runaround/Drum solo
Birthright
And You and I
I’ve Seen All Good People
Close to the Edge
Themes
Bruford/Levin duet
Brother of Mine
The Meeting
Heart of the Sunrise
Order of the Universe
Roundabout
Starship Trooper
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