by Donna Quesada: “Awaken”Running over 15 minutes long, and described by Anderson himself, as an epic piece of music…
“Awaken” is, like so many Yes songs, about nothing less than human transcendence. It began with Anderson on his harp… soon joined by Wakeman’s unmistakeable toy piano-like riff in minor chords, which together, create a feeling of suspense, like the gap in between incarnations… the bardo… while waiting in the wings to meet God.
As Anderson himself, has explained, the lyrics were inspired by the book, The Singer: A Classic Retelling of Cosmic Conflict by Calvin Miller. All of this suspense, while drummer, Molino, adds drama, by hitting his tom-toms with cannon-fire thuds, done with super-padded drumsticks. Wakeman begins to add embellishments, and the chords lighten; the somber, almost ominous minor key gives way to major… like the curtains opening. The air becomes thinner. And Anderson’s voice sails above the pressure line in the atmosphere… soaring now, effortlessly, up to the angels’ gate… as if to say, I’ve triumphed over the trials and tribulations of this lifetime… I’ve passed the test. And he sings:
High vibration go onto the sun, oh let my heart dreaming past a mortal as me. Where can I be?…
And as he sings, he takes us into the mystical realm, into ecstacy… into timelessness.
And you and I
Anderson clinked his tingshas (Tibetan ritual chimes), and thus began “And You and I.” This magnum opus of a song is a dedication to our collective reunion with the divine. The first thing any longtime Yes fan (what other kind is there?) would notice is, again… Howe’s missing acoustic accents. But nonetheless, he sang:
And you and I climb over the sea to the valley. And you and I reached out for reasons to call...
The music then changes. The story changes… for that’s what Yes songs offer… a story. Not just a story, but an allegory, one which offers its willing listener a glimpse of truth… a glimmer of meaning… a glistening forth of the essence of life, itself.
The climb that Anderson sings about, evokes the sense of the grand ascent toward reunion with God… or liberation of spirit, if the “G” word doesn’t suit. But, the cosmic dance is a snaky one, fraught with twists and turns and constant set backs. As Anderson puts it, it is a spiral aim. The Buddhists call it samsara… the constant struggle that is part and parcel of human existence. Life and death, itself. Thank God! Infinite chances to try… try again. Life and death… found in every single breath we take, in this demented world of illusion.
Illusion… because it was right there within us, all along. Like the scarecrow and his heart. And hence, Anderson sings:
All complete in the sight of seeds of life with you… And the You and I is… all of us.
But, as long as we are caught in the world of illusion… maya… we don’t see the splendor that was here, all along. Anderson calls this the eclipse. The chords then darken… imparting the continuance of our personal struggle. And he sings:
… reach out as forward tastes begin to enter you…
A moment of Self realization. Enlightenment. God is within, was within, all along. What a futile search!
The music then soars, and we climb… up, up into ecstasy, into the beyond. Anderson again clings the tingshas—two miniature cymbals held by a string, waking us up from the dream. Just as the Zen Master hits the bell with the padded stick… and boom… instant enlightenment… satori!
But, we are held in the whirl of the cosmic dance, in the ongoing karmic waves of life and death. This movement is conveyed through the stillness that swells up in the form of an acoustic major chord. It is a new turn in the journey of life. In this way, it is a suite, rather than merely a song. This moment suggests the feeling of finally reaching altitude… steady… like flying on a giant wave in the cosmos. And he sings:
Sad preacher nailed upon the colored door of time. Insane teacher be there reminded of the rhyme. There’ll be no mutant enemy we shall certify. Political ends as sad remains will die. Reach out as forward tastes begin to enter you. Oooh, ooh…reach over the sun for the river. And you and I climb, clearer towards the movement…
Wakeman’s ascending triads and triplet rhythms express the jagged spiritual journey, alluded to in this opus… impelling a magnificent triumph over each downfall and over time itself, as the echoing chords skip and soar and swirl around one another, creating energy and motion and mimicking the continual drive toward ecstasy and rapturous joy.