WSPC SESSION NOTES FOR JULY 2015: WORDS FOR CHRIS SQUIRE

FROM THE DJ's STUDIO DESK:

And it is time to say goodbye to another...and this one truly hurts.

On the early Sunday morning of June 28th, I woke, staggered around my home for a spell, turned on the computer and began to scroll through the Facebook feed when I was mournfully greeted with a message posted from the official Yes page.

"It’s with the heaviest of hearts and unbearable sadness that we must inform you of the passing of our dear friend and Yes co-founder, Chris Squire. Chris peacefully passed away last night in Phoenix Arizona. We will have more information for you soon."

So sadly, dear readers and listeners, Chris Squire, co-founder of the seminal art/progressive rock band Yes, passed away due to complications from a rare form of leukemia. He was only 67 years old. And believe me, my heart shed a few tears after reading that news. 

From a lifetime of listening to music and attaining one musical hero after another, it would not be hyperbole to say to all of you that Chris Squire was unquestionably one of the GIANTS. While not as visible or nearly as publicly flamboyant as his musical contemporaries, Squire's talents, abilities and overall musicality was titanic in its execution and massive in its continuous influence. Through the formation of Yes, the band he co-founded alongside vocalist Jon Anderson in 1968, Squire amassed a body of work that remains completely original and idiosyncratic yet blissfully warm and wholly inclusive. It was music that existed entirely within its own universe but welcomed all who wished to travel into it.

I accepted Yes' gracious invitation sometime in late 1983 or early 1984. I was 14/15 years old, a Freshman in high school, and already a deeply devoted fan of Rush and Genesis, among a host of other English musical groups now delegated into the realms of what is now known as "classic rock." With the rise of music videos, I had certainly heard, and therefore seen, Yes' outstanding, innovative yet nightmarishly surreal "Owner Of A Lonely Heart," already the talk around the high school hallways amongst my more musically inclined friends and associates. Yet, it was through a syndicated 2 hour Sunday night radio program broadcasted upon Chicago's WLUP-FM ("The Loop"), where I fell for Yes and believe me, I fell hard.

The radio show, essentially a promotional push for Yes' then recently released comeback album "90125" (released November 7, 1983), delved completely into the full history of the band through interviews, deep album selections and live selections. Hearing songs like the multi-faceted "Yours Is No Disgrace" and the interstellar masterpiece "Starship Trooper" (both of which run nearly 10 minutes in length), plus the melodic nirvana of "Going For The One," the symphonic rock and roll of "Parallels," the ecological funk of "Don't Kill The Whale," and the furiously frisky fusion of "Tempus Fugit" alongside the very familiar FM radio staples like "Roundabout" and "I've Seen All Good People" and the (then) new material for the very first time, captivated me instantly and directed me straight to the record store as well as the high school library in which I was employed.

Over the following four years of high school, I immersed myself within the majestic musical world of Yes, being captivated and educated with each and every album, awed by the seemingly endless innovation in the compositions, lyrics and of course, the performances. The ethereal voice and lyricism of Jon Anderson combined with the elegant fury of Steve Howe's guitar heroics, the oceanic keyboards from either Tony Kaye, Patrick Moraz, Geoff Downes and, of course the virtuosic Rick Wakeman and the complex poly-rhythms of drummer Bill Bruford and then Alan White, certainly made for what Moraz once referred to as a "musical university." And I was a most eager student from album to album to album.

Yet, through all of the band's personnel changes over the years, there remained only one constant: Bassist Chris Squire, the sole member of Yes to have endured throughout the band's entire existence. Now, it all seems to be so fitting that the bassist, the anchor of Yes' musical universe was the constant, who over time became the "Keeper Of The Flame."  All of the music and musicians of Yes flowed through his stratosphere and in turn, he through them, so brilliantly and so beautifully. All one has to do to understand that statement is to just listen to the music itself.

Never a mere time-keeper, Chris Squire was a bassist of extraordinary flexibility, versatility, ingenuity, and fluidity. The fact that he was a self-taught musician only further increases my sense of awe towards his musicality based upon how elaborate and influential his bass playing was and will forever remain. As Bill Bruford eulogized: 

"He had an approach that contrasted sharply with the somewhat monotonic, immobile bass parts of today. His lines were important; counter-melodic structural components that you were as likely to go away humming as the top line melody; little stand-alone works of art in themselves. Whenever I think of him, which is not infrequently, I think of the over-driven fuzz of the sinewy staccato hits in Close to the Edge (6’04” and on) or a couple of minutes later where he sounds like a tuba (8’.00”). While he may have taken a while to arrive at the finished article, it was always worth waiting for. And then he would sing a different part on top."

Dear readers and listeners, if you are able to direct your ears, just listen to "Roundabout" from the band's fourth album "Fragile" (released January 4, 1972) again for starters. I wish for you to hear the how the bottom end of the song percolates and bounces and even surrounds the beats and rhythms. In fact, to my ears, Squire's bass almost sounds like Stevie Wonder's "Superstition" era Clavinet keyboards due to the level of funk he injects into the classicism of the song overall. 

On the very same album with "Long Distance Runaround," plus the more elongated tracks like "South Side Of The Sky" and the tremendous "Heart Of The Sunrise," Squire's bass playing, in addition to his composition skills and backing vocals, circle around all of the songs' elements with the expertise of a jazz musician. But, the deepest innovation lies on the selection "The Fish (Schindleria Praematurus)." Titled after his own nickname, this mostly instrumental track is one of the five songs on the album on which each band member showcased their own specialized skills--essentially making solo tracks on a band album. With Chris Squire's offering, we are treated with layers of bass. Some rhythmic, some high and melodic, some that provide the main riff and others that almost sound like a motorboat engine revving up. It is a track that magically conjures up a vision of what it just may have been like to live inside of Chris Squire's musical brain--the eternal fish swimming dreamily in a sea of sound. Even over 40 years after its release to the world, it still remains a wonderment to the ears.

 

In addition to "Fragile," Yes' "The Yes Album" (released February 1971) and "Close To The Edge" (released September 13, 1972) are not only three of the band's finest albums, I really believe them to be three of the finest albums released during the 1970's period! And from those high watermarks, Yes only continued to delve further.

 

Where "Tales From Topographic Oceans" (released January 9, 1974), the spiritual double album of just four side long epics, to this day remains just this far out of my reach...

...the terrific "Going For The One" (released July 7, 1977) finds the sweet spot that exists between the cosmic and the swagger. 

For my money, the more aggressive albums "Relayer" (released December 5, 1974) and "Drama" (released August 18, 1980) remain two of the band's most under-rated releases and they each happen to contain some of Chris Squire's most dynamic, elastic and thunderous playing most notably heard on the jaw dropping, multi-section 22 minute anti-war treatise "The Gates Of Delirium," and the booming bottom heavy "Does It Really Happen?"

And if you are still not convinced enough of my words describing Chris Squire's peerless and indispensable contributions to the world of Yes and to bass playing itself, I urge you to listen to Squire's debut solo album "Fish Out Of Water" (released December 30, 1975), on which he is the sole composer and vocalist in addition to bassist, and on some tracks, guitarist and even drummer!

I have always been fascinated with how much music actually exists within a band as you look from member to member and the musical influences that have shaped each and every one of them. From this one album, I can guarantee that you will hear precisely not only what Chris Squire brought to Yes but the fact that Yes could not ever have existed without him. I certainly do not wish to diminish the talents of all of the band members who composed, played and sang right along with him. I am just saying that without Chris Squire, Yes would have been a completely different band altogether and perhaps, Squire existing as the only constant member of the band was deemed to be.

Throughout those high school years, Yes became a musical fixture and I loved being able to connect the musical threads between them and their contemporaries. With my more musically inclined and musician friends, we loved talking about and debating the merits of these world class musicians, just like sports fans traded baseball cards and compared athletes' statistics. Chris Squire was always revered.

By the time I entered college in 1987, I developed an instantaneous and life long bond with, my very first roommate completely over our shared love of Yes, and of Chris Squire in particular. In fact, when we first purchased tickets to see the ban don their "Big Generator" tour, we were ecstatic to discover that we had been seated on Chris Squire's side of the stage, a perfect vantage point to see the Master at work. (Incidentally, that tour was aborted, meaning that I never saw the band perform live, although my former roommate has seen them several times over the years). 

Furthermore, my former roommate's allegiance to Chris Squire was so entrenched that he never ceased to express his vehement distaste over the "Big Generator" album (released September 17, 1987), as he felt that the mixing of the music was decidedly poor as Squire's Herculean bass playing was too low within the mix. While I do love that album, I also do tend to agree and do hope that a remastered/remixed version sees the light of day in the future. Regardless, when  read the news of Chris Squire's passing, I reached out to my former roommate to check in and he did in turn. "I guess Yes is officially done," he wrote to me. It seems like it just may be.

It really strikes me that out of all musicians who famously contributed to the musical legacy of Yes, Chris Squire was the first to depart. Additionally, his passing arrived at the end of a week's worth of birthdays belonging to his musical peers, including Paul McCartney, Brian Wilson, Ray Davies, Todd Rundgren and Mick Fleetwood, all of whom circled Squire in age and all of whom created music for the ages. Because of this, Chis Squire's passing still feels as bit of a surprise to me. I was aware that he had been ill but not to what extent. Now that he is gone, I sincerely hope that his contributions to Yes, and to music itself, do not go forgotten or just endlessly lost in time. While I ceased to follow the band after the album "Talk" (released March 21, 1994), it just made me happy to know that they still existed, creating their specialized brand of musical nirvana that existed outside of any other musical genre than the one they created for themselves. 

And that is the glory of Yes, the beauty of which lies directly in the band's name. They created music of such affirmation, of such positivity and of such immense and continuous possibility. It was expansive and exploratory because of no other reason than...YES! And even without Chris Squire here in the material world, I wish that somehow that Yes can continue onwards in some capacity for no other reason than...YES!

"Chris was a very special part of my life; we were musical brothers. He was an amazingly unique bass player - very poetic - and had a wonderful knowledge of harmony. We met at a certain time when music was very open, and I feel blessed to have created some wonderful, adventurous, music with him. Chris had such a great sense of humor... he always said he was Darth Vader to my Obi-Wan. I always thought of him as Christopher Robin to my Winnie the Pooh.

We traveled a road less traveled and I'm so thankful that he climbed the musical mountains with me. Throughout everything, he was still my brother, and I'm so glad we were able to reconnect recently. I saw him in my meditation last night, and he was radiant. My heart goes out to his family and loved ones. Love and light.....Jon"

Jon Anderson wrote those words in eulogy to his musical brother and I hope that my words have served as an echo of his as well as anyone whose life was so richly enhance as mine was by the musical vision and wonderment of Chris Squire.

For fans of Squire and Yes, I know that we are always listening. But for those who haven't attempted the journey, I gently urge you to do so...for no other reason than...YES!

R.I.P.

 CHRIS SQUIRE

March 4, 1948-June 28, 2015