Unable to sleep last night I popped in the DVD of Yes’ “Keys To Ascension,” a somewhat sloppily produced concert archive of their 1996 shows that brought keyboardist Rick Wakeman back to the group. My affinity for the 1996 CD sets of “Keys” and “Keys 2” (the other half of the concerts) are strong — I have been a Yes fan since I discovered rock music. One of my strongest memories of summers at the Jersey shore was putting on WYSP 94.1 FM in Philadelphia and hearing “Close To the Edge”, side one, tracked through late at night. I was hooked. The layers of the music, the amazing guitar work of Steve Howe, even the obscure yet ever-hopeful lyrics continuously gave me something new to listen to, to listen for, or to enjoy anew.
After college, marriage, and children, my CD player saw more of “The Best of Sesame Street” rather than Howe & company. But in 1996, I bought “Keys”, and I was hooked again. Yes ascended, indeed, and I’ve re-purchased most of their catalog on CD. Each listen jostles some mellowed brain parts, and provides something to explore repeatedly. This week’s favorites include the closing section of “Wurm” from Yessongs and Steve Howe’s guitar solos on “Turn of the Century” from “Keys 2”.
But in my late-night state of half-listening, half-snoozing, I heard Wakeman’s solo on “Wurm” (from the DVD of “Keys”) differently — and for some reason, it sounded exactly like the piano solo in Cat Stevens’ “Morning Has Broken” (which is played by Rick Wakeman), with Moog replacing Steinway. Something else to ponder over break.