While the debate continues over who can call themselves a rightful member of Yes, the ongoing version of the band with longstanding guitarist Steve Howe at the helm spent downtime during the pandemic making The Quest, their first album in seven years and their first without bassist and founding Yes man Chris Squire. This begs the question: Can a Yes album without any original members stand on its own? If you remove the hearsay, the speculation, and any and all efforts to discredit the album and its personnel flying under a sacred and beloved banner, the answer is a resoundingly Yes. Whether it’s any good is an entirely different issue altogether.
Overall, The Quest is a quiet and mellow record without a lot of Yes-like embellishment or grandeur, orchestral enhancements notwithstanding. Howe’s playing is resplendent throughout, and there are moments in songs like “Dare To Know,” “Minus The Man” and “Leave Well Alone” where certain lines, phrasings and solos point to how vital the man’s place in Yes is. Geoff Downes also rises to the occasion, punctuating a synth-infused riff to push “The Ice Bridge” forward, while anchoring the sway of “The Western Edge” and “Music To My Ears” with an array of keys. The pace is restrained, with Alan White’s drumming kept to a minimum with hardly a paradiddle to shift the tempo (touring drummer Jay Schellen also contributes).
Singer Jon Davison, who’s had the Herculean task of gaining credibility in Yes circles, edges closer to carving out his own identity on this record. There are nuances in his tone that mark an ascendance from his predecessors, which helps in redefining the band’s overall sound. On “A Living Island,” Davison eloquently finds his voice in a modest shift of melody, especially when a few gallant master strokes from Howe push him to go deeper. “Sister Sleeping Soul” offers the singer ample room to move into the driver’s seat, resulting in his best vocal performance on the album. Billy Sherwood, who’s done an admirable job taking over for Chris Squire, also contributes to the vocals. Though the harmony blend isn’t quite as distinctive as it once was, there’s enough freedom in the choruses and breaks to bridge the pleasantries.
The Quest is slightly marred by detours like “Mystery Tour,” a lightweight nod to the Beatles that’s sustained only by Howe’s remarkable runs up and down the neck of his guitar. To its credit, the album appropriately captures Yes, for better or worse, at the mid-century mark of an incredible career. Opinionated fans have already rendered a verdict based on the lineup and standards of the 70s and 80s salad days. Yes are at that damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don’t stage in their journey where making a studio album comes with calculated risk and expectation. Realizing that eclipsing Fragile, Close To The Edge, and 90125 is unlikely at this point is probably the best way to approach The Quest. Without any preconceived notions, it’s easier to judge this record on its own merit instead of on the basis of what came before. After that, it’s all a matter of personal taste.
~ Shawn Perry
