Jon Anderson
Song of Seven

Intense years for this Brit with an angelic voice, who, after the excellent production in the progressive jungle with his Yes and after recent flights alongside Vangelis in the barren lands of electronics, releases his second solo album in 1980. With "Song of Seven," Jon Anderson surprises everyone and indulges in an established conventional rock. Eager for tranquility, it's as if our artist has arrived in the big metropolis after years of intense travels at the world's end.

Compared to the debut "Olias of Sunhillow," among the new grooves the fantastic and dreamy themes, in perfect "Yes" tradition, are forced to alternate with more tangible, concrete, and everyday topics. At the same time, the sounds are characterized by independent bass escapes, dry but punctual rhythms by the percussion, an abundant inflation of keyboards, and frequent intrusions of brass. Thus, certainly influenced by musical paths different from progressive rock, this context creates a new sonic habitat and gives momentum to Anderson's voice, which, here more in shape than ever, immediately shows its best in the opening track "For You, For Me," which is joined by the lively and overwhelming "Heart of the Matter," the slow and pleasant "Nostalgia," the irresistible tune, almost childish and with simple philosophy, of "Some Are Born," the (perhaps too?) reassuring "Take Your Time," and the amusing irony of "Everybody Loves You." However, the past is hard to die, and the walk down the street soon gives way to the bucolic dream, which occupies the last two tracks: A calm "Days" and especially a heterogeneous yet smooth "Song of Seven" mark (in some ways) an unexpected, partial return to progressive rock.

What does this album represent? A transition? A passage? Definitely yes, a sort of anticipation of what will happen in the Eighties: the controversial third album "Animation," the commercial splendor of "90125" with the reunited Yes, the continuation of the fruitful electronic collaboration with Vangelis. It certainly does not seem to be a work inspired by the main group's production; on the contrary, in an antithetical manner, it seems precisely an attempt to detach from it.