“Talk” by Yes (1994)

If you were a teen/young adult in 1994 whose musical tastes aligned with the rock and alternative zeitgeist, the band Yes probably wasn’t on your radar. By then, the record-buying public had largely moved on from the likes of Yes, and the band’s 14th studio album, Talk, sold roughly 300,000 copies—an undeniable commercial disappointment. When compared to their contemporaries still releasing music at the time—acts like The Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd, Alice Cooper, and Neil Young—it’s evident that the ’90s posed challenges for artists who had risen to prominence in the ’60s and ’70s. While some adapted to the shifting landscape of rock and alternative music, Yes approached the making of Talk with one foot in the present (using cutting-edge production techniques) and the other firmly planted in 1983.

The state-of-the-art was that producer, guitarist, keyboardist, and vocalist Trevor Rabin used four Apple Macintosh computers linked to an IBM to record the tracks. Novel for the time, but commonplace now, the full digital setup allowed the band to reduce the time it took to edit and master the album. Many of the tracks were played live (which also reduced the studio time), so sonically, the record sounded far and away more modern than other bands who were using a mix of analog and digital methods.

The eye on the past — specifically the year 1983 — was the lineup of the band. I mention 1983 because that’s the year the band released their most commercially successful record, 90125 — or if you’re of a certain age, you might refer to the record as “90210.” In ’83, Jon Anderson, Trevor Rabin, Chris Squire, Tony Kaye, and Alan White were the right mix for the new wave of Yes. So, when the band wanted to recreate the magic of 90125 a decade later, having the same group of players could be seen as part of the plan. Indeed, Talk does sound like early to mid-’80s Yes on the album opener “The Calling” — which was the first single off the record and reached as high as #3 on the mainstream rock chart.

I fully admit to not being aware of Yes in 1994 because I was 95% ensconced in alternative rock bands and performers of that era. Indeed, I never listened to Talk until this year (2024) — 30 years after its release. What spurred me to give this money pit and critic’s dartboard* of an album a chance was The Album Years podcast (hosted by Steven Wilson and Tim Bowness). In passing, the two podcast hosts mentioned this record as being a favorite of theirs in 1994. I thought, “Oh, they must be joking.” But, nope. Wilson and Bowness were totally serious. So off to Apple Music I went to see if Mr. W’s and Mr. B’s music tastes were affected by the water in England, or if Talk was as good as they say.

Well, Talk is not as overtly commercial as 90125, but there’s a there there in terms of musical substance. The band is trying to balance their commercial ambitions and their progressive rock indulgences on this record. I found that there’s plenty here to (mostly) satisfy both camps. “The Calling” is radio-friendly and a great album opener, while the second track “I Am Waiting” is epic in tone and scope. “Real Love,” awash in heavy guitar, feels too plodding to succeed at what the band is trying to accomplish. Yes also misses the mark on “State of Play” which feels too sterile, even with Alan White’s nod to hip-hip in one section of the song. “Walls” is good, but not great in terms of a pop-infused rock song. Maybe it’s harmonies the band defaults to over and over on the album, but I feel like I’m listening to variations of “Leave It” throughout the record. It’s always good to have a signature sound, but relying too much on that sound (as Yes did on Talk) erases distinctions they might have had if the band didn’t spike in those harmonies as liberally as they did.

So, it was a relief when they pushed the harmonies down in the mix on “Where Will You Be.” I thought this worked well in terms of style. The slower, less in-your-face feel lets the instruments and vocals breathe — which should be a lesson to producers and mixers. That is to say, not every song has to be slammed in terms of volume.

But if you’re looking for an antidote to the loudness wars, you won’t find it on the album closer, “Endless Dream.” Despite that sledgehammer sonics, this is probably the closest Yes comes to their ’70s-era sound on the record. “Endless Dream” is a 15-minute prog journey that gives long-term Yes fans what they want. It’s not as complex as what the band was doing two decades prior, but many proggy elements are there: an aggressive intro, gentle midsections, some talk box Peter Frampton flourishes, and spacey/trippy moments.

Overall, I did like a lot of Talk. And while the band utterly failed to capture the commercial success of 90125, they utterly succeeded in creating an anti-1994 record that reminded those 300,000 people who bought the record that Yes wasn’t going gently into the night.

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* J. D. Considine wrote a two-word review of Talk in Musician magazine in 1994 that went a little something like this: “Shut up!” Not as great as his one-word review of GTR — which was “SHT,” but much more concise than his review of Phil Collins’s …But Seriously: “Collins was a lot more fun — and effective — when he was frivolous.”

The band blamed the poor CD sales on the fact that their label, Victory Music, went bankrupt – and with it the cash needed to promote the album.