Trinity College School - Record Yearbook (Port Hope, Ontario Canada)

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electric), mandolin, double neck and slide guitar, and who knows what else? Yes is Jon Anderson. He is the man behind the group ' s exceptional lead vocals. His voice is soft, dreamy, emotional, gentle yet strong, and has even been des- cribed as “urchin-like”. Yes is Chris Squire. He is the talent behind that distinctive animal bass on every Yes album. He is smooth and vi- brant. Yes is Rick Wakeman. He is the magical blond. He is a God-like character and the master of the multi-keyboard workout. Yes was Bill Bruford. He was the quick, clean drummer before this tour. Yes now is Mr. X (for I haven’t a clue as to the identity of this new drummer). He is good, but Bill Bruford’s style is missed. Yes’ performance was almost historical. Their music shines with a freshness and crispness that stays with you. Their stage performance is as polished as their studio work. They know their music well. In the beginning, the lights went out; everyone lit a match. They did such notables as “I’ve Seen All Good People,” “Roundabout,” “Heart of the Sunrise,” and other numbers from their first five albums. They mainly featured their fifth and latest album “Close to the Edge.” At one point, they did the title track. They dimmed the lights, then, faintly, the sounds of pattering rain, chirping birds, and tinkling bells faded in. The song started up, and a light shone suddenly on a re- volving circle made up of hundreds of little mirrors. This sent hundreds of little squares of reflected light all over the Gardens. The whole place seemed hypnotized. Yes casts a spell. Their excellent vocalizing combined with their magnificent playing abilities wcrk together to produce a sound that can stun the senses: especially loud and live. Their sound is so different and unreal, it builds a dream world around the listeners. Their music is at a new level of maturity and perfection. Your parents, or even Tom Gough, might listen - for a while, anyway. Nobody else sounds like Yes either, which is nice. They played solidly for two hours, but that’s a long time in another world. When they tool 1 two breaks, the audience didn’t. Four of them left the stage for a short rest leaving Steve Howf behind to entertain us with an accoustic solo. This was a clear, error-free classical piece (in eluding “the Clap”) which demonstrated his great skills. He ran into the next song while th rest readied themselves for more. The other break was when the four left, leaving Rick Wakemar behind for a multi-keyboard solo. Complete with wizard’s cape, he mystically moved from in strument to instrument by which he was practically surrounded. 14

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TUESDAY, OCTOBER 31 1972 - From Approximately 7:30 - 12:00 P.M. Forty-four anxious ticket-holders are now I rolling into Toronto, hoping to beat the clock and arrive on time to experience a very rewarding Hallowe’en night. Here we are. Our seats are good. We i are on the floor, an eardrum away from ! the centre of the sound system, and the | stage is not too far away - in clear view, j There are workies testing the scores of connections and making last-minute adjust- ments. After about twenty-five minutes of “last- ! minute” adjustments, the lights go out and t a spotlight zooms in on a surprise guest - Joe Mendelson (formerly of Mainline). Clad | in personalized T-shirt and jeans, “big Joe” started off with “Losing My Marbles” - a song suggestive of the man ' s style. He went through a few more foot-stomping Mendel- son Mainline tunes. He’s still a one-man band, even when he’s only playing guitar. He jerks his head, stomps his feet, strangles his guitar-neck, surely destroys his finger- i nails, and almost falls off his chair in pre- j senting his music to his listeners. Unfor- tunately, only half the 15,000 were giving him his due attention. Restless, impatient to hear Yes, many were throwing Frisbees and Hallowe’en candy, coughing and scream- ing. Those who listened, appreciated. The back-up band were unknown to the majority. The J. Geils Band are a six- man variety pack of musicians from Boston who play a tight, tough mixture of no- nonsense blues and rock. They are as in- teresting to watch as they are to listen to. Everyone there was pleasantly surprised. They were dressed like an early Elvis back-up band, but they moved and played so well that if their good-feeling sound didn’t go right through you, you must have had your fingers in your ears. They performed for the audience and not at them and, as a result, were so well received that they did a lively encore. Many possibly wondered if Yes could top this second-billing band. There was a 30-minute break as one band’s equipment was taken off and the other’s set up. It seemed to take forever. Why was it all taking so long? Everything was being arranged with a perfectionist’s touch. Yes was to tape this concert to be used in a forthcoming album made from cuts of live performances in 5 major North American cities. The mood was good; now it was better. Yes is a five-man group of extremely talented musicians from England. The mem- bers have changed from time to time but apart from becoming more electronically- oriented in material, the music is general- ly unchanged. The music is Yes. It is very difficult to put a label on it - it is very original, very different, very Yes. Yes is Steve Howe. He is a perfectionist. He is the master of the 6 and 12-string guitar (ac- coustic 13

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His repetoire even included a few hero-villain chase themes. Playing one and even two in- struments at a time, he moved from liturgical organ to synthesizer to harpsichord, back to a jazzy organ solo, to piano, his cape floating with his movements. He then led the returning members into the next song. Anderson is not a performer, but a good singer. Instead of shuffling a hole through the floor, he simply makes slow movements, slowly waving his arm in circles with the beat as if he, too, is a victim of the dream he is creating. Mr. X moves wildly, but surely - not missing a beat. Howe grits his teeth and shakes his head with the crying notes of his own making. Wakeman calmly, coolly plays on, moving as if he isn’t even there. Squire moves back to the drummer, nodding, his back to the audience, then spins, jerking up and down and smiling approvingly. His suit brilliantly changes wi th the light, his thin cape fluttering like the wings of a butterfly. The result - Yes. They thank us and leave. The applause is thunderous, and what followed was the longest, loudest encore I have ever heard. It looked hopeless. Then soon (not soon enough) they re- appeared - acting as humbly as they could. They thanked us and they knew we were thankful. They appeared to be a kind of group who DO NOT ordinarily play encores. They struck into the wild “Yours is no Disgrace’’. It, too, was spectacular. When it was over, they bowed and left. The applause was loud, but short-lived. Everyone knew they could do no more. The Gardens slowly emptied as everyone began coming down to earth. Many of us left in a trance, and some probably still are. Yes. -Eric Thom 15