The mid-1980s were kind to very few artists. Paul McCartney, Bob Dylan, and Neil Young were just three of many casualties through this synth-heavy decade. Times were changing, and the old guard of the 1960s and 1970s, those musicians who had cut their teeth on stages and studios across the globe, were going out of fashion. Big Generator is as much a response to that as it is a chance to stabilise Yes for the years to come. Even the progressive rock powerhouse tried its hand at a satisfying, contemporary sound. You cannot make chart-adjacent music or sounds and still run songs at seven minutes. A sad reality, but nothing which would stop Yes from giving it an honest go on Big Generator. Commercialising the band is what was on the mind of producer Trevor Horn, who, rightly or wrongly, succeeds in this aim. It brings Yes into the present.
What the band had desperately needed in the 80s was consistency. They get it with Horn, an ample pair of hands for the looser thrills of progressive rock at the time. Unfortunately, what kept the band relevant in 1987 is what sinks Big Generator in the modern day. A truly dated piece of work, which was playing fast and loose with the core of the band for the sake of keeping Yes relevant. For fans of Jon Anderson as a vocalist and songwriter, this is a solo album with a few bells and whistles attached. Big Generator strips away the well-layered progress the band had made. Their synchronicity, even on dud efforts like Tales from Topographic Oceans or Tormato, was there. Big Generator has none of that. It crushes what originality the band had left from this decade in pursuit of Anderson as a friendly voice who could swing with the rest of those ’80s heartthrobs. How could he be anything but that when songs like Rhythm of Love and Almost Like Love dominate the track list?
Wannabe heartthrob Anderson is not up to the task of tackling the George Michael and Tears for Fears bar, though. He sounds desperate to regress into that comfortably forgettable post-Close to the Edge sound Yes had perfected, but it is nowhere to be found. Heavier guitar work never quite suits the subtleties of progressive rock, and it certainly ruins Yes’ chances on their title track. At its best, the album is a clunky crash, a piece of music made despite the infighting, which clearly affects what could have been the best moments of the album. An album of background noise is what Big Generator is, and that is at the best of times. Love Will Find a Way becomes a very vague, generic-sounding compilation of sounds popularised by the 1980s, while the follow-up song Final Eyes is a relatively enjoyable mess.
A desperate moment from Yes, though the fact that they even got a release out of the Big Generator sessions sounds more like a miracle. Fairly numb work on the A-side gives way to some maddening instrumental work as the band tries to stay true to their progressive rock selves while also appeasing the 80s sound. It is a fascinating listen, though not the best. Big Generator has some moments of interest for the hardened Yes listeners, though this will do very little for fans of just the hits. I’m Running sounds like the in-house band of a Megachurch was pulled in on their day off to back up Trevor Rabin. Whether that is a low point or a highlight of the album is up to those whose sanity has been bled dry by Yes on previous releases. Big Generator is a confusing piece of work, but part of it remains thoroughly enjoyable.
The album’s a little “Shrill” for my liking. Prefer the previous 90125 and Drama.
I never really warmed to Big Generator even when it was new.