Deep Purple axe-wielder Richie Blackmore and previously unheard of vocalist Candace Night released their first collaborative effort, Shadow of the Moon in 1998. At the time, I think most fans thought (hoped?) Blackmore would get over his fascination with Renaissance music
Post Tagged with: "Progressive Rock"
Years before the chattering rock press had begun to puncture the facade of prog rock — all under the cover of digging the “authenticity” of punk — Ian Anderson and Jethro Tull were ready to call bullshit on it all.
Tony Kaye joins us to talk about key moments from his time in Yes, Badger and Badfinger — including “Yours Is No Disgrace,” “Hold On” and “Starship Trooper,” among others.
Yes has been a part of Tony Kaye’s life, off and on, since the late 1960s. He was a co-founding member, and helped craft the band’s breakthrough release The Yes Album, then returned for its platinum 1980s era.
Everybody has their own definition of a “chill” record. But if ever there was a time when one was desperately needed, it would likely be when you are stranded on a faraway island — with nothing but a volleyball to keep you company.
In the heady days of the 1970s, prog-rock bands like Yes and Emerson Lake and Palmer were thought to be rivals, trying to top each other in every way — from elaborately constructed tours to even more elaborately constructed albums.
Though he’s more recently shared the stage with both of Pink Floyd’s other surviving members, Roger Waters says a forthcoming solo project won’t include either David Gilmour or Nick Mason.
Sure, there are Yes comparisons to be made here. Frontman Jon Davison is, in his highest range, a dead ringer for Jon Anderson — to the point that he’s been asked to take over as lead singer in Yes.
Rick Wakeman will kick off a flurry of activity in November with a private play-back event this week for all of those who worked on a lavish new fanpack reissue of his 1974 solo recording Journey to the Centre of the Earth.
Theo Travis and Robert Fripp improvise, but not in ways that fit the typical narrative. No hothouse, smoke-filled jazz club. No porkpie hats and double-breasted suits. Instead, they’ve more often co-mingled in glacial, cerulean placity