Yes
Relayer

According to many (including myself), in 1974, Yes made a misstep by releasing the biblical and prolix 'Tales From Topographic Oceans'; the fans reacted well, but the critics, perhaps waiting for just such an opportunity, tore it apart, and Rick Wakeman took advantage of the situation to slip away after the tour. In his view, the concept was overblown and heavy, and moreover, he felt affronted by having only marginally participated in its conception and composition. Nevertheless, even without this keyboardist of great repute, the remaining members of Yes (Anderson, Squire, Howe, and White) plunged into the studio and began writing and rehearsing, while auditions for a worthy replacement were underway.

For a brief period, it seemed Vangelis might take the spot, but in the end, the choice fell on the Swiss Patrick Moraz, who came from a jazz/rock/fusion background. The result is a decidedly pyrotechnic line-up, still in dazzling form. Many things are different on this record, from the shrill and corrosive sound of Steve Howe's guitar to White's dynamic and intense drumming, which leaves no regret for Bill Bruford; Moraz proves to be a keyboardist perhaps less polished and refined than Wakeman, but he is a virtuoso of the instrument, and his touch is evident. Released in November 1974, 'Relayer' adopts the structure of 'Close To The Edge': one long suite on the first side, this time not divided into sections, and two nine-minute pieces on the second, all presented in an ethereal cover by Roger Dean, which is nothing short of stunning.

The Gates Of Delirium is, in my opinion, one of Yes's best tracks, and it begins with virtuosic counterpoints by Howe, bass strikes buffered by the drums and a hint of keyboards; a rather relaxed and prayerful atmosphere continues until the entrance of Anderson's beautiful voice, singing lyrics inspired by 'War and Peace' as the rhythm becomes more majestic, and Moraz engages in skillful embellishments. The track remains more or less constant until around the eight-minute mark when a brief reverberating guitar solo opens a magnificent instrumental section: sumptuous, solemn, and grandiose, yet flowing and evocative, almost plastic. The keyboards dominate with whirling riffs of a very electronic sound, but the delirious sonic combat sees all the musicians aligned, from Squire's powerful bass to the sharp electric guitar; tumultuous and warlike noises seem to evoke the Napoleonic battles of Austerlitz and Borodino, and indeed, Anderson and White achieve special clangors and effects by skillfully arranging and striking car wrecks. The rhythm becomes more fluid after a dark drum roll, when a beautiful solo by Moraz and then Howe leads worthily to the ethereal conclusion, the splendid and forgotten "Soon": here Anderson is the emperor, and on the long and echoing notes of the guitar, he expresses himself, after the battle, in one of his best performances. The heavenly voice seems to descend from the sky through the clouds of war, and on the poignant crescendo of a spine-tingling Mellotron, it gives an intensely and unimaginably powerful conclusion to an extraordinary symphony. Nothing short of magnificent.

White's technique and class are evident at the start of Sound Chaser, full of astonishing drum rolls leading to the entrance of the electric guitar and voice for an excitedly arranged track conceived with genius; it's incredible how every sound, riff, or solo is in its place and weaves a very dense yet precise and never chaotic tapestry. In the middle of the song, the monstrous Howe, left alone, further reveals what he can do with a guitar in his hands. A vocal interlude follows, then it returns to the initial melody, which, after an exhilarating and festive synth solo by Moraz, accelerates suddenly and reaches mesmerizing whirlwind rhythms before the effective and sudden conclusion.

The album concludes with the seductive and gentle To Be Over, opened by violin-like keyboards and Eastern-style arpeggios from various guitars. After the vigorous previous performances, the track is quite relaxed and peaceful, with Anderson's voice prominently featured and a very soft rhythm section; the dreamy keyboard interventions are also beautiful. After three minutes, the piece becomes a bit faster, the rhythm gains more movement, and Howe performs a stunning solo, aided by Moraz's good Mellotron. A lovely combination of synthesizer and electric guitar paves the way for the fascinating grand finale, with a multi-voice choral, a great bass, and a very high crystalline arpeggio. I've heard it said that this track anticipates guitar trends that will manifest in '90125' from 1983: I find this statement absurd for many reasons, but primarily because Steve Howe is not Trevor Rabin.

'Relayer' has often been considered a minor episode in Yes's career, but I find it to be another peak of their dazzling discography. The five musicians are in excellent form, and moreover, the album was written and arranged with great camaraderie and few problems. It is undoubtedly somewhat challenging to listen to, as it does not contain the melodic triumphs of 'Close To The Edge' and is much more ornate and pompous; this does not detract from the immense artistic value of this rewarding record, which is also presented, as already mentioned, in an alluring graphic design.

After 1974, our protagonists would take a three-year break, then record their last great classic, 'Going For The One', with a revived and dazzling Wakeman. It's 1977, and prog is now firing blanks, but Yes still make a great impression. After an unproductive period of angry punk, the ephemeral new wave will dominate, then creativity will fade, leading to electropop, MTV, and all that this entails, up to the present day. Let's boldly revisit the epic of Rael, the imaginative frescos of 'Mirage', the dark red sound of the Crimson King, and the sonic battles of 'Relayer', all consigned to history in the same year.