Review:

on 2011-05-15 SolitaryMan Said:

There was a time in my life where I would have sat anyone willing to listen aside, handed them my copy of Tales From Topographic Oceans, and said "this will blow your mind, and change how you look at music". Apparently, marijuana helped me ignore the blatant pretentiousness and wankery Yes had indulged in. While I will always be a fan of the band for the classy and classic "Fragile" album, and certain highlights here and there throughout their existence, albums like this really do strain one's ability to remain interested, or respectful of their art. Listening to it now is almost like attempting a series of college entrance exams, more challenge and less enjoyment, nerves on edge as I try to find the silver lining I was once convinced was there. In the hierarchy of progressive rock, I think Yes are all too often considered the pinnacle of the craft, and it's not hard to see why when you consider the stereotypes that often are tied to the genre. Pretentious people will enjoy pretentious music. For my money, Yes were extremely talented musicians, but average songwriters, something like Dream Theater today. And while many despise his voice, I always had a soft spot for Jon Anderson and cannot say his voice detracts at all from the experience for me. But I can easily see how it would be too much for many a listener. Yes were the nichiest of niche bands, who were more than capable of branching out and impressing but rarely saw any point in doing so when they could spend their time conjuring up 10+ minute advertisements for their spiritual enlightenment and instrumental superiority.
Rating: 3/10

Review:

on 2011-05-14 CharlesMartel Said:

This is prog rock at its most boring and pretentious.

I just can't stand this. Jon Anderson is trying to be some sort of philosopher here, and ended up just proving that he is a pretentious fool. Why oh why do people like Anderson feel an overwhelming need to regale us all with his feeble attempts to justify his so-called empathy with the spiritual world, in Anderson's case, the Shastric Scriptures, and what they mean to him as an individual, the dark and the light, the positive and the negative. Sorry, but it all just comes across as platitudinous brain farts.

In an attempt to come over as all spiritual and idealised, it is nothing more than excuse to be pompous and overblown. His attempts to create vivid lyrical imagery from this mess ends up simply bombarding the listener with pseudo-spiritual claptrap and new age babble. Who does Anderson think he is kidding? This isn't a new twist on the pop as classics line, it is self-important virtuosity for the sake of it. Yes had always tried to mark themselves out as thinking man's music. When you listen to this you realise it was all just an elaborate con trick designed to impress people with fake revelatory mysticism. So many people were (and continue to be taken it by it). It just goes to show how many gullible fools are out there.

However what really makes this album the worst in my collection are two separate issues, one the fault of the music, the other the fault of the fans. First, the music. Anderson could not cut it as a singer. Most of the time he sounds like a choirboy whose gonads never emerged from his torso. His high-pitched falsetto whine has been compared, by a good friend of mine, to Alvin the Disney chipmunk. It is a comparison, once drawn, that is hard to shake from your mind.

The second issue relates to the fans. Right from my earliest music listening days in secondary school, there was a group of pretentious music snobs who vaunted Yes as the height of musical excellence. If you didn't like Yes then you really didn't understand music and your opinion was worthy of no further consideration. You were there to be looked down upon, despised, patronised and ridiculed for your musical taste.

Yes fans always point to that Rick Wakeman keyboard solo towards the end of "The Revealing Science of God - Dance of the Dawn" as being the highlight of this album. It's not that great, but does anybody seriously think that an album of 81 minutes and 4 seconds of mind-numbingly boring, pretentious, pomposity can be redeemed by about forty seconds of Rick Wakeman twiddling the knobs on his synthesiser? And yet, year after year, they still come back - radio shows, TV shows you name it, and point to this little speck as evidence of the genius of Yes.

I quickly realised how shallow and affectatious these music snobs were. This was just musical keeping up with the Joneses and began to doubt how many of them actually liked this nonsense, but just went along with the crowd so as not to feel left out. I soon learned to ignore them, though not until I made the mistake of purchasing this album. Unfortunately, reading a few reviews of this album and I see the same comments, along the lines of if-you-dont-like-this-you-dont-understand-music. What sort of arrogant self-important, patronising pseud could adopt that attitude? What gives such a person any right at all to denigrate anyone else's taste? Answer - a Yes fan. Someone who is so absorbed in their own self-importance that they have disappeared up their own backside.

Two stars is the lowest rating I will give to any album I own. Yet this deserves less than two stars, so I hereby give it 1.99 stars. In the Musicemissions rating system that is duly rounded up to 2.00 stars. Whatever - try it if you want but do not buy this because someone has said you are not cool if you don't like it. If you don't like it you would do well avoid this at all costs and ignore anyone who tells you otherwise.
Rating: 2/10