Yes stands as one of progressive rock’s most enduring and innovative forces, crafting complex musical landscapes that have captivated listeners for over five decades. From their early psychedelic explorations to their symphonic masterpieces, Yes has consistently pushed the boundaries of what rock music could achieve. Their intricate arrangements, virtuosic performances, and Rick Wakeman’s majestic keyboard work have influenced countless artists across multiple genres. Whether you’re discovering their catalog for the first time or revisiting these classics, these 20 tracks represent the absolute pinnacle of Yes’s artistic achievement and showcase why they remain titans of progressive rock.
Roundabout
“Roundabout” represents everything magical about Yes at their commercial and artistic peak. Released in 1971 on Fragile, this eight-minute epic somehow became a radio hit despite its unconventional structure and time signature changes. Steve Howe’s opening acoustic guitar riff is instantly recognizable, setting the stage for one of progressive rock’s most accessible yet sophisticated compositions. The production by Eddie Offord captures every instrumental layer with pristine clarity, from Chris Squire’s thunderous bass lines to Bill Bruford’s jazz-inflected drumming. Jon Anderson’s ethereal vocals float above the instrumental complexity, delivering lyrics inspired by his travels through Scotland that feel both mystical and grounded. The song’s bridge section features some of the tightest ensemble playing in rock history, with each musician locked into a groove that’s mathematically complex yet emotionally immediate. When you’re cruising with this track on headphones, you’ll catch new details even after dozens of listens—whether it’s Wakeman’s organ flourishes or the way Squire’s bass countermelodies create an additional vocal line.
Close to the Edge
The 18-minute title track from 1972’s Close to the Edge represents Yes at their most ambitious and artistically fearless. This four-movement suite demands your complete attention and rewards it generously, taking listeners on a spiritual and sonic journey that few bands could even attempt, let alone execute flawlessly. The opening sounds of running water and bird calls give way to one of rock’s most explosive instrumental passages, with each band member given space to demonstrate their virtuosity. Anderson’s lyrics explore themes of enlightenment and transcendence, perfectly matched to music that feels both ancient and futuristic. The “I Get Up, I Get Down” section showcases the band’s ability to shift from delicate, church-like passages to thunderous rock crescendos seamlessly. Bruford’s final performance with Yes on this album features some of his most creative drumming, particularly in the complex rhythmic interplay during the song’s latter movements. If you’re comparing headphones and want to test their soundstage and detail retrieval, this track will reveal everything about your equipment’s capabilities.
Heart of the Sunrise
Opening with one of the most menacing bass lines Chris Squire ever recorded, “Heart of the Sunrise” from Fragile showcases Yes’s darker, more aggressive side. This 11-minute journey builds tension through its opening minutes before exploding into a celebration of instrumental prowess that never feels like mere showboating. Anderson’s vocal melodies soar over Howe’s angular guitar work, creating a push-pull dynamic that keeps the song perpetually engaging. The middle section strips everything down to acoustic guitar and vocals before gradually rebuilding to a magnificent crescendo that feels genuinely cathartic. Bruford’s drumming throughout demonstrates why he’s considered one of rock’s most musical percussionists, never playing a fill just because he can but always serving the composition. The song’s production captures the raw power of the band’s live sound while maintaining the detail and separation that makes repeated listening rewarding. This track perfectly illustrates why Yes transcended simple genre classifications—it’s simultaneously progressive rock, art rock, and just damn good rock music.
Yours Is No Disgrace
The opening track from 1971’s The Yes Album announced that Yes had fully arrived as a major artistic force. Clocking in at nearly ten minutes, “Yours Is No Disgrace” features one of Howe’s most celebrated guitar performances, from the opening harmonized lines to the extended solo section that showcases his unique blend of rock aggression and classical precision. The song’s anti-war lyrics carry genuine weight, delivered with Anderson’s characteristic optimism even when addressing dark subject matter. Tony Kaye’s organ work throughout provides a Hammond-heavy foundation that would soon be replaced by Wakeman’s more orchestral approach, making this a fascinating snapshot of Yes in transition. The instrumental breaks feature the band operating as a genuine collective rather than a backing group for soloists, with each member’s contributions essential to the whole. Listen to how Squire’s bass doesn’t just hold down the low end but serves as a melodic voice equal to the guitars and keyboards. In the car, this track’s dynamic range and punchy mix makes it a perfect road trip companion.
And You and I
Perhaps Yes’s most emotionally direct epic, “And You and I” from Close to the Edge balances complexity with accessibility in ways that few progressive rock songs achieve. The four-movement structure flows so naturally that you might not even notice the compositional sophistication on first listen, yet repeated exposure reveals layers of genius. Howe’s guitar work ranges from delicate fingerpicking to soaring electric leads, always perfectly matched to each section’s emotional content. Anderson’s lyrics about love and connection feel genuinely heartfelt rather than the abstract mysticism that characterized some of his other work. The “Eclipse” section features some of Wakeman’s most tasteful keyboard orchestrations, using the Mellotron to create sweeping string-like textures that enhance rather than overwhelm. Squire’s harmonium work in the quieter passages adds an unexpected timbral color that gives the song additional depth. The final movement builds to a glorious climax that feels earned rather than forced, leaving listeners emotionally satisfied in ways that few ten-minute rock songs manage.
Starship Trooper
The closing track from The Yes Album remains a fan favorite and concert staple, showcasing the band’s ability to blend folk-rock accessibility with progressive complexity. The three-part structure moves from Anderson’s acoustic-led opening through Squire’s bass-driven “Disillusion” section into the triumphant instrumental finale “Würm.” Howe’s guitar work throughout demonstrates his versatility, handling both delicate fingerstyle passages and the iconic sustained leads that close the song. The lyrics draw from Tolstoy while maintaining a cosmic, searching quality that perfectly matches the music’s adventurous spirit. When the band kicks into the “Würm” section, it creates one of progressive rock’s most ecstatic moments—pure joy translated into musical form. The interplay between all five musicians during this finale showcases the telepathic connection that made Yes special, with each player instinctively knowing when to push forward and when to lay back. Those discovering these legendary tracks through our comprehensive song rankings will find this composition particularly revealing of Yes’s unique chemistry.
Siberian Khatru
Opening 1972’s Close to the Edge album, “Siberian Khatru” hits like a freight train and never lets up during its nine-minute runtime. This track features some of Yes’s most aggressive playing, with Howe’s guitar riff driving the entire composition forward with relentless energy. Anderson’s nonsensical title and abstract lyrics perfectly match the music’s exotic, otherworldly feel—this isn’t a song trying to tell a linear story but rather create an atmosphere and mood. Wakeman’s keyboard work dances around Howe’s guitar rather than competing with it, using the Minimoog and organ to add color and texture. Squire’s bass tone throughout is absolutely massive, captured with incredible clarity that reveals every harmonic overtone and attack transient. The middle instrumental section allows each member extended solo space without the song ever feeling like it’s losing momentum or purpose. On good speakers, the mix reveals how Offord layered the various keyboard parts to create a wall of sound that’s dense yet never muddy. This remains a highlight of Yes’s live shows when performed, with its high-energy approach translating perfectly to arena settings.
Long Distance Runaround
Clocking in at just over three minutes, “Long Distance Runaround” from Fragile proves Yes could deliver concise, punchy compositions without sacrificing their musical sophistication. Howe’s opening guitar figure establishes an infectious groove that carries throughout, while Wakeman’s piano work adds a jazzy sophistication. Anderson’s vocals are more direct and immediate than on the band’s lengthier epics, delivering lyrics about disconnection and relationship strain with uncommon clarity. The song’s brevity actually makes it more impactful—there’s no space for self-indulgence, just tight ensemble playing and strong melodic ideas. Bruford’s drumming is particularly creative within the limited canvas, finding spaces for intricate fills without disrupting the song’s forward momentum. The production captures the band in a more raw, live-sounding mode compared to their more orchestrated epics. This track often appears back-to-back with “The Fish” on the album, and the two function almost as a single piece despite their different approaches. For those testing audio equipment, this song’s clarity and punch make it excellent for evaluating timing and rhythmic coherence.
Fragile
The delicate title track from the 1971 album showcases Anderson’s compositional skills outside the full band context. Performed solo with classical guitar, this brief two-minute piece provides essential breathing room between the album’s more complex arrangements. Anderson’s fingerpicking style reflects his love of classical guitar while maintaining a singer-songwriter intimacy. The lyrics about fragile dreams and morning sunshine deliver genuine poignancy without Anderson’s sometimes overwrought mysticism. This track’s inclusion on a Yes album demonstrates the band’s understanding of sequencing and dynamics—not every moment needs to be an epic statement. The recording quality captures the acoustic guitar’s warmth and Anderson’s voice with remarkable presence, making it feel like he’s performing right in your listening space. Many fans cite this as one of their favorite Yes moments despite—or perhaps because of—its simplicity and directness. When the full band returns after this interlude, the contrast makes their electric power feel even more impactful.
Owner of a Lonely Heart
Released in 1983 on 90125, “Owner of a Lonely Heart” marked Yes’s most dramatic reinvention and biggest commercial success. Produced by Trevor Horn, this track embraced 1980s production aesthetics while maintaining enough of Yes’s DNA to feel like a logical evolution rather than a betrayal. Trevor Rabin’s guitar work is more straightforward rock than Howe’s jazz-fusion complexity, but it serves the song’s hooky immediacy perfectly. The iconic synth riff that opens the song became one of the decade’s most recognizable musical moments, demonstrating that Yes could adapt to changing musical landscapes. Anderson’s vocals are more processed and direct than in the 1970s, matching the song’s emotional directness about fear and heartbreak. The drum sound, courtesy of Alan White, is massive and gated in that distinctly ’80s way, yet it drives the song with genuine power. This track brought Yes to MTV and introduced them to a generation that had no reference point for Close to the Edge. While purists initially rejected it, “Owner of a Lonely Heart” has aged remarkably well, standing as a high point of intelligent 1980s pop-rock that happened to be performed by progressive rock legends.
I’ve Seen All Good People
This two-part suite from The Yes Album demonstrates the band’s ability to blend folk-rock accessibility with their developing progressive ambitions. “Your Move” opens with acoustic guitars and Anderson’s most direct lyrics about taking action and making choices. The chess metaphor works because it’s specific and grounded rather than abstract, giving listeners something concrete to hold onto. When the song shifts into “All Good People,” the tempo increases dramatically, driven by one of Squire’s most melodic bass lines. The call-and-response vocals create an almost gospel-like atmosphere of communal joy and affirmation. Howe’s guitar work throughout both sections shows restraint and taste, never overplaying but always adding the perfect accent or melodic counterpoint. The song’s message of unity and positivity feels genuinely earned rather than naive, matching the music’s celebratory energy. In concert, this often becomes an extended jam vehicle, with the band stretching the instrumental sections while maintaining the composition’s essential character. For those exploring the best progressive rock through our curated rankings, this track exemplifies how the genre could be both ambitious and immediately appealing.
Perpetual Change
Closing The Yes Album, “Perpetual Change” showcases Yes’s early exploration of extended compositional forms. The nearly nine-minute runtime allows the band to develop musical ideas thoroughly, moving through multiple sections that feel connected yet distinct. Kaye’s organ work provides a swirling, psychedelic foundation that recalls the band’s late-’60s origins while pointing toward their more orchestrated future. Howe’s guitar solo remains one of his most celebrated, balancing technical prowess with genuine emotional expression rather than empty virtuosity. Anderson’s lyrics about societal change and personal transformation match the music’s restless, questing energy. Bruford’s drumming throughout demonstrates the jazz influences he would bring to later work with King Crimson, using odd meters and polyrhythms naturally. The song builds to a powerful climax that feels genuinely cathartic, rewarding the listener’s attention with a payoff that’s both intellectually and emotionally satisfying. The production captures the band’s raw power while maintaining enough clarity to appreciate each player’s contribution. This track often gets overlooked in favor of flashier Yes epics, but it represents an essential bridge between their early transitional work and their full progressive flowering.
South Side of the Sky
From Fragile, “South Side of the Sky” opens with one of the most dramatic introductions in Yes’s catalog—howling wind effects and Howe’s distorted guitar creating an atmosphere of isolation and danger. The song’s mountaineering narrative provides unusual lyrical content for progressive rock, with Anderson’s imagery of frozen climbers and deadly peaks delivered with genuine urgency. Wakeman’s keyboards create orchestral textures that enhance the song’s cinematic scope, using the Mellotron’s string sounds to create sweeping dramatic moments. The instrumental breaks feature the full band operating at peak power, with Squire’s bass and White’s drums (yes, Alan White, who replaced Bruford mid-recording) locking into grooves that are simultaneously complex and propulsive. The song’s dynamic range is exceptional, moving from quiet, tense passages to full-band explosions that demand you turn up the volume. The bridge section features some of Howe’s most aggressive soloing, his guitar tone cutting through the mix like ice. This track works exceptionally well on quality headphones where you can appreciate the spatial effects and the way different instrumental layers occupy distinct parts of the stereo field.
Changes
This often-overlooked gem from 1983’s 90125 demonstrates that the band’s Horn-produced era could deliver genuine emotional depth alongside commercial appeal. Anderson’s vocals are vulnerable and direct, discussing relationship evolution and personal growth with uncommon honesty for Yes. Rabin’s guitar work is tasteful and melodic, never overwhelming the song’s intimate atmosphere. The keyboard textures, handled by both Rabin and guest Tony Kaye, create a lush bed that supports rather than dominates. The song’s structure is more conventional than classic Yes, yet it maintains enough sophistication to feel substantial rather than disposable. The bridge features beautiful harmonies that recall the band’s earlier work while maintaining the polished production values of the ’80s. This track showcases how Yes could adapt to contemporary sounds without completely abandoning their musical intelligence. It never received the radio play of “Owner of a Lonely Heart,” but it’s arguably a more mature and lasting composition. In live performances from this era, “Changes” provided a necessary breather between high-energy rockers while maintaining the audience’s emotional engagement.
Going for the One
The title track from 1977’s Going for the One album opens with a sound no one expected from Yes—Howe’s steel guitar creating a distinctly country-rock atmosphere. This stylistic left turn demonstrates the band’s restlessness and willingness to incorporate new influences even at the height of their progressive powers. Anderson’s lyrics about spiritual seeking and redemption match the music’s celebratory, almost gospel-influenced energy. Wakeman’s organ work throughout provides a churchy foundation that enhances the song’s uplifting message without becoming heavy-handed. The song’s relatively concise five-minute runtime proves Yes could still deliver impactful compositions without extending everything to epic length. The production by Yes themselves (credited to “Yes”) captures a rawer, more immediate sound than Eddie Offord’s more polished work. Squire’s bass work is characteristically melodic, functioning almost as a second lead instrument alongside Howe’s guitars. The song’s optimistic tone and accessible structure made it a fan favorite despite its departure from the band’s established sound. This willingness to experiment while maintaining core identity exemplifies why Yes remained relevant across multiple musical eras.
Awaken
The 15-minute centerpiece of Going for the One ranks among Yes’s most spiritually ambitious compositions. Wakeman’s church organ introduction immediately establishes a sacred atmosphere that the song maintains throughout its runtime. Anderson’s lyrics about spiritual awakening and transcendence are matched perfectly to music that builds from meditative beginnings to ecstatic climaxes. The song’s multiple sections flow seamlessly, each distinct yet clearly part of a unified whole. Howe’s guitar work ranges from delicate acoustic passages to soaring electric solos that seem to reach toward the heavens. The middle section featuring Wakeman’s pipe organ (recorded at St. Martin’s Church in Vevey, Switzerland) creates one of progressive rock’s most majestic moments. Squire and White’s rhythm section work throughout provides both stability and complexity, anchoring the composition while adding intricate details. The song’s final movement builds to a glorious climax that feels genuinely transcendent, achieving the spiritual heights the lyrics describe. On a proper sound system, this track’s dynamic range and orchestral scope require significant volume to appreciate fully—the quiet passages need to breathe while the climaxes need to soar.
The Gates of Delirium
This 22-minute epic from 1974’s Relayer represents Yes at their most complex and challenging. Based loosely on Tolstoy’s War and Peace, the composition moves through distinct sections representing conflict, chaos, and eventual resolution. Patrick Moraz’s keyboards replace Wakeman’s orchestral approach with more aggressive, jazz-fusion textures that give the album a distinct sonic identity. The battle sequence in the song’s middle section features some of Yes’s most dissonant and challenging playing, deliberately creating tension and discomfort. Howe’s guitar work throughout is remarkably inventive, using effects and techniques that still sound fresh decades later. Anderson’s vocals are pushed higher and more urgently than usual, matching the music’s intensity. The song’s resolution, titled “Soon,” provides one of progressive rock’s most beautiful and peaceful codas—a moment of genuine transcendence after chaos. Squire’s bass work is particularly prominent in the mix, his aggressive Rickenbacker tone cutting through even the densest instrumental passages. This track demands significant attention from listeners but rewards that investment with one of progressive rock’s most profound statements. When comparing audio equipment for handling complex, layered music, this composition will reveal every strength and weakness of your system.
Wonderous Stories
This concise single from Going for the One proved Yes could deliver radio-friendly material without compromising their musical sophistication entirely. The song’s sub-four-minute runtime and acoustic-guitar-driven approach made it accessible to listeners who found their epics intimidating. Anderson’s vocals are sweet and melodic, delivering lyrics about love and wonder with genuine warmth. Wakeman’s keyboard work adds color without dominating, using tasteful organ and piano touches to enhance the arrangement. The song’s production emphasizes clarity and immediacy, capturing the band in a more intimate mode than their usual grandiosity. Howe’s steel guitar work adds an unexpected country-rock flavor that gives the song a distinctive character. Despite its commercial aspirations, “Wonderous Stories” maintains enough musical intelligence to satisfy longtime fans while welcoming new listeners. The song performed well on British charts, demonstrating that Yes could still compete commercially in the punk era. In concert, this provided a necessary contrast to the evening’s longer compositions while maintaining the audience’s engagement through sheer melodic charm.
Machine Messiah
Opening 1980’s Drama album, “Machine Messiah” introduced Yes Mark IV with the Buggles duo of Trevor Horn and Geoff Downes replacing Anderson and Wakeman. The 10-minute composition demonstrates that Yes’s progressive spirit could survive lineup changes that many assumed would be fatal. Horn’s vocals are more rock-oriented and direct than Anderson’s ethereal approach, bringing a different energy that works surprisingly well. Downes’ keyboard work embraces both the cutting-edge technology of 1980 and progressive rock’s complexity, creating textures that sound both contemporary and unmistakably Yes. Howe’s guitar work proves that his distinctive voice could integrate with a different rhythm section and vocal approach while maintaining his identity. The lyrics about technology and humanity feel prescient from today’s perspective, exploring themes that have only become more relevant. The song’s production showcases Horn’s skills behind the board, creating a massive yet detailed soundscape. While Drama remains divisive among fans, “Machine Messiah” stands as evidence that Yes could evolve radically while maintaining their essential character. The album marked Squire and White’s continued ability to anchor Yes through various incarnations while maintaining the band’s fundamental power.
Ritual (Nous Sommes du Soleil)
The side-long epic closing 1973’s Tales from Topographic Oceans represents Yes at their most indulgent and ambitious simultaneously. The 22-minute composition features extensive percussion solos, allowing White and additional percussionist Alan White to showcase their skills. The song’s thematic exploration of ritual and community creates genuinely transportive moments when the band locks into extended grooves. Wakeman’s keyboard work throughout adds orchestral color and jazz-fusion energy, though he was reportedly dissatisfied with the album’s extended improvisational nature. Howe’s guitar contributions range from aggressive rock to delicate classical-influenced passages, demonstrating his versatility. Anderson’s lyrics draw from Hindu scripture and mystical concepts, which either fascinates or frustrates listeners depending on their tolerance for such material. The song’s length allows for genuine development rather than simply extending ideas beyond their natural length. Squire’s bass work remains melodically inventive throughout, preventing the rhythm section from becoming mere timekeeping. While Tales from Topographic Oceans remains Yes’s most divisive release, “Ritual” contains genuine moments of brilliance that reward patient, open-minded listening with headphones that can handle the composition’s dynamic range and spatial complexity.
Frequently Asked Questions
What is Yes’s most popular song commercially?
“Owner of a Lonely Heart” from 1983’s 90125 album remains Yes’s biggest commercial hit, reaching number one on the Billboard Hot 100 in the United States. This Trevor Horn-produced track marked a dramatic shift toward 1980s production aesthetics and more accessible song structures, introducing Yes to MTV audiences and a younger generation. Despite initial resistance from longtime fans who preferred the band’s 1970s progressive epics, the song has endured as a defining moment of intelligent 1980s pop-rock. The track’s success proved Yes could adapt to changing musical landscapes without completely abandoning their identity, though it represented a significant departure from compositions like “Close to the Edge” or “Awaken.” Its iconic synth riff and direct emotional content made it a crossover success that expanded Yes’s audience considerably.
Which Yes lineup is considered the classic formation?
Most fans and critics consider the lineup featured on Fragile and Close to the Edge (1971-1972) as Yes’s definitive formation: Jon Anderson on vocals, Steve Howe on guitar, Chris Squire on bass, Rick Wakeman on keyboards, and Bill Bruford on drums. This quintet created some of progressive rock’s most celebrated and enduring works, balancing virtuosic musicianship with strong compositional ideas. When Alan White replaced Bruford in 1972, the resulting Anderson/Howe/Squire/Wakeman/White lineup created further classics including Tales from Topographic Oceans and Going for the One. However, Yes has featured numerous lineup changes throughout their five-decade career, with each formation bringing distinct strengths—the 1980s lineup with Trevor Rabin delivered commercial success while maintaining musical sophistication, proving Yes’s adaptability across different eras.
Why did Rick Wakeman leave Yes multiple times?
Rick Wakeman’s relationship with Yes has been famously tumultuous, with the keyboard virtuoso departing and returning multiple times throughout the band’s history. His first departure in 1974 stemmed from creative differences over Tales from Topographic Oceans, which he felt was overly indulgent and unfocused. Wakeman preferred more structured compositions over extended improvisations, and he also pursued a successful solo career that sometimes conflicted with Yes commitments. He rejoined for Going for the One in 1977 but left again in 1980, returning for the reunion tours in the 1990s and various subsequent periods. Wakeman’s multiple departures and returns actually demonstrate his essential role in Yes’s sound—the band’s character changes noticeably depending on whether his orchestral keyboard approach is present, making his contributions irreplaceable even when the band continued successfully with other keyboard players like Patrick Moraz, Geoff Downes, and Tony Kaye.
What makes Yes different from other progressive rock bands?
Yes distinguished themselves from contemporaries like Genesis, King Crimson, and Emerson, Lake & Palmer through several signature characteristics. Chris Squire’s melodic, high-register bass work essentially created an additional lead instrument rather than simply anchoring the rhythm section, giving Yes a distinctive harmonic richness. Jon Anderson’s ethereal, almost otherworldly vocal approach contrasted with the more theatrical styles of other progressive frontmen, lending Yes compositions a mystical, transcendent quality. The band’s emphasis on extended harmonies and intricate vocal arrangements set them apart from keyboard-dominated progressive acts. Steve Howe’s incorporation of country, jazz, and classical guitar techniques alongside rock created a more diverse sonic palette than many peers. Additionally, Yes maintained an essentially optimistic, life-affirming tone even in complex compositions, whereas bands like King Crimson often explored darker, more aggressive territory. Their combination of technical virtuosity, compositional ambition, and melodic accessibility created a unique space within progressive rock that influenced countless musicians across multiple genres.
Are Yes songs difficult to play for musicians?
Yes compositions are notoriously challenging for musicians attempting to recreate them accurately. The time signature changes, complex chord progressions, and intricate instrumental interplay require both technical proficiency and deep familiarity with each song’s structure. Chris Squire’s bass parts often function as lead lines requiring significant fingering dexterity and an understanding of countermelody. Steve Howe’s guitar work incorporates multiple techniques—fingerstyle, flatpicking, slide, and various effects—often within a single composition. Rick Wakeman’s keyboard parts frequently require playing multiple instruments simultaneously or in rapid succession, from Hammond organ to Mellotron to Minimoog. The vocal arrangements demand precise pitch control and the ability to hold complex harmonies. However, many musicians find learning Yes material extremely rewarding precisely because of these challenges—mastering a Yes composition demonstrably improves overall musicianship. Tribute bands dedicated to Yes music train extensively to recreate the band’s sound, and even simplified versions of Yes songs remain musically substantial. For aspiring progressive rock musicians, tackling Yes material represents an essential education in advanced rock composition and performance.