Album Review: Yes – Talk

Being a Yes follower has always been a mix of fulfillment and frustration. The group’s lineup has famously mutated over the years; today the group features no original members. There was that period during which there were effectively two Yesses. In fact there were two such periods! And how one feels about the lineups from those various eras has an outsize effect on how the music is received.

Talk dates from a curious time in Yes’ history, and that itself is saying something. In retrospect, the period represents the tail-end of the Trevor Rabin era, one that commenced with 90125 and “Owner of a Lonely Heart.” By this point in the story, Yes’ progressive character was at its subtlest point; the MTV-era big production values and a pop sensibility dominated.

The group featured three original members: vocalist Jon Anderson, bassist Chris Squire and keyboardist Tony Kaye. The last-named member had left around the time of The Yes Album, returning for 90125, at which point Rabin had joined as well. Drummer Alan White had been on board since the Close to the Edge tour. In other words, a configuration fairly close to classic.

The music, however, was far more straightforward and streamlined than it had been in the ‘70s era. Flashes of the old Yes are evident throughout: the song lengths suggest prog-leaning tunes. But while the melodies are strong, there’s little in the way of instrumental fireworks. Talk never really dazzles. Yet it’s certainly far superior to – for example – anything post-Fly From Here.

The intricately layered vocal harmonies of Anderson (and Squire) are a major characteristic of the songs on Talk, and that’s all to the good. The “big” drums pin the music inescapably in its era, and the squealing, high-pitched guitar leads are inescapably ‘80s-’90s-sounding. Neither “The Calling” nor “I Am Waiting” are bad in any way, but neither do those songs linger in the memory.

The weirdly throbbing “Real Love” (most definitely not the John Lennon song) is an oddity. It’s perhaps the least Yes-sounding track on the album, and in this case at least, that’s not a good thing. The tune’s stiff, electronic character is reminiscent of Big Generator, but without an enduring melody upon which to anchor it. “State of Play” ventures even farther from classic territory; in places, it sounds like Robert Palmer meets “Owner of a Lonely Heart.” Anderson’s vocal arrangement is the only thing that rescues the song from its too-trendy-by-half feel.

“Walls” is a catchy rocker. Lovers of Fragile-era Yes will find themselves nonplussed by the track: it’s catchy enough, but it sounds far closer to songs on The Cowsills’ Global, a record released just a few years later. Alas, nary a whiff of “progness” is to be found within its grooves. A bit better is the understated “Where Will You Be,” though it too seems out of place, better heard on a Peter Gabriel soundtrack project or a Police b-side.

As has so often been the case on Yes albums, the finest moments on Talk are found within a lengthy, multi-part suite. In this case, the album’s closer is “Endless Dream,” a nearly sixteen-minute prog epic. The tune clatters along in a manner inconceivable from a Steve Howe lineup, but Rabin’s sharper, more electronic-leaning sensibility works well in context here. The piece offers plenty of tempo and volume shifts, and bits of expert (if subtle) musicianship, making “Endless Dream” the high point of the album. Unfortunately, that peak isn’t very high at all.

Soaring guitars and ethereal pads flutter in and out of the mix. Around five minutes in, the song takes a weird turn, with treated guitar parts and a stadium-sized aesthetic. The dated production choices emphasize big drum sounds and a woeful under-utilization of Squire’s thundering bass work. There’s nothing exactly wrong with “Endless Dream,” but neither does it rank among the most memorable output from Yes.

And that, ultimately, is the verdict on Talk. Not at all terrible, it’s worthwhile for Yes adherents. But there’s nothing about the album that approaches the quality of the group’s other releases.

Perhaps agreeing that the then-current trajectory of the group had reached its end, both Rabin and Kaye departed shortly after Talk’s release. In their place (via the revolving door that is Yes) came Steve Howe and Rick Wakeman. That change fundamentally altered the character of Yes, and led in short order to the much-improved Keys to Ascension.

Note: the 2024 CD reissue of Talk from Cherry Red adds no bonus tracks, though it does boast a knowing essay from Prog editor Jerry Ewing, one that places the album into larger context and (quite commendably) doesn’t try to oversell it to modern-day listeners.

LOTS AND LOTS more Yes-related features and reviews RIGHT HERE.

UPDATE DEC. ’24: The above review focuses on the 2024 single-CD reissue of Talk. There’s another 2024 release that spans four discs, and includes alternate versions and a live concert recording. I’ve just acquired that, and it’s reviewed HERE. — bk