Yes
Fragile

It is always difficult for a young person like me to describe a progressive rock album in a few lines without risking being too banal; as, in my opinion, this is the highest form of contemporary music. That being said, to approach progressive rock (but not to grasp its highest moments) and to start studying it, I do not believe that King Crimson, the fathers of this genre (who already require adequate intellectual knowledge in the field), are the most suitable group. Yes is perhaps the group that most represents the coupling of the two terms "progressive rock" in terms of sound, and it is for this reason that I want to start my career as a reviewer by discussing what I consider their absolute masterpiece (apologies to the fans of "Close to the Edge").

"Fragile" is indeed the fourth album by Yes and the second in chronological order (we are in 1972) within the trilogy of their milestone albums: an album in which the group already reaches the full maturity of progressive sound, where the listener greatly appreciates the great technical and instrumental qualities and the great vocal abilities of Anderson. Furthermore, it serves as an example in the history of rock of how all the instruments can fit together symphonically and how the overlapping vocals create an extraordinary chorality (which will later become the group's distinctive trait).

The central theme of the album is "nature," which evolves over the course of the record, alternating between more frenetic and explosive stages and more relaxing moments, until reaching the heart of the Sun. The album opens with "Roundabout", which, in addition to being one of Yes's signature songs, I believe is one of the best singles of the 70s: the track begins with a few acoustic guitar chords and then undergoes a sudden and unexpected acceleration that corresponds in the lyrics to the explosion of nature in a valley, where the protagonist, in the role of an Orpheus who awakens his surroundings with his sound, awaits his beloved; organ and guitar riffs alternate with the main melody with a fabulous mellotron interlude that reprises the introduction. In short, there are no words to describe how this song immediately immerses you in the progressive atmosphere.

It continues at a more relaxed pace with the second track, "Cans and Brahms", a remake of the fourth symphony of the famous composer, where Wakeman's organ reigns supreme. "We have heaven" is a classic example of the experimentation of the choral intertwining of voices (as I explained earlier), with the phrase "Tell the Moon-dog, tell the March-hare" repeating throughout the track as a foundation, and upon which Anderson's remarkable high notes develop, creating this time a more idyllic-dreamlike natural landscape, counterposing the dynamic one of "Roundabout".

And like the calm before the storm, in "South Side of the Sky" the sound of the wind anticipates a surge that instantly projects the listener upwards into a celestial background, where Howe’s guitar is followed by an organ interlude by Wakeman and the classic choral play; almost as if justifying the transition to a higher, “metaphysical” plane. We are in the central part of the album, and as if to take a pause, the group presents a small concept track of 37 seconds, "Five Per Cent for Nothing", referring to the agents’ percentage share of the album’s earnings, very amusing.

And here we arrive at "Long Distance Runaround" (and its direct instrumental appendix "The Fish"), another super hit of the group that made them famous in the eyes of the general public, and perhaps the most well-known Yes track for those following the Billboard 70 decade charts. It is difficult to assign a genre to this track: someone on another occasion spoke of harpsichord classical music, but to the ear, it seems to sound like a fusion of rock, blues, progressive, and reggae, which gives the feeling of a mental run toward the past. And again, to herald the cataclysm, here's a beautiful acoustic guitar piece, "Mood for a Day", one of my favorites for its simplicity and nerve-soothing ability (certainly I can't compare it to "Horizons" by Genesis).

And to close a rock masterpiece like this, there can only be a decidedly progressive song, "Heart of the Sunrise", which I deem not only the best on the album but one of the best Yes songs ever. A novel would be needed to describe all the sensations this track manages to convey, but I will limit myself to saying that the guiding line is a mental journey in the surrounding space, overshadowed by the sunlight. The track begins with a powerful guitar riff by Howe accompanied by organ pauses, followed by a bass line, drums, and a spiral of guitar that gives me a hint of the early Floydian. The track then continues to explode in all its power until Anderson's vocal interlude where the atmosphere, very "warm," calms down, only to erupt again in all its power with a tempo completely different from the initial phase. In short, it's masterful.

To appreciate this album and progressive music more generally, it is not strictly necessary to understand the song lyrics (which are generally very descriptive) nor to dwell on the technique of the instruments, but one should listen and listen again (perhaps even with closed eyes) to receive from the organicity of the sound sensations that, in my opinion, only this genre can transmit. I have always considered progressive as impressionism, the poetry of rock, and I believe many will agree with me.