Ottawa Citizen

REDEFINING THE BASS

Chris Squire of Yes led the way

- JUSTIN WM. MOYER

In many rock ’n’ roll bands, bass players are, more or less, lumps.

Some might be half of incredible rhythm sections (John Paul Jones of Led Zeppelin), or great singers (Jack Bruce of Cream), or incredible songwriter­s in their own right (Paul McCartney). But those who play that four-string thing must face it: Bass players often stand in the back playing the root or the fifth and, particular­ly in recordings from the first three-quarters of the 20th century, are pretty hard to hear.

Hey, The White Stripes, among many others, didn’t even need one.

But one of the artists who helped redefine the bass for a generation of players and listeners — Chris Squire of Yes, who died June 27 of acute erythroid leukemia — thought differentl­y. As much or more than any other bass great — Larry Graham, Bootsy Collins, Mike Watt, Flea, Les Claypool — Squire took an instrument with limited expression that’s difficult to make stand out from the back to the front.

“I couldn’t get session work because most musicians hated my style,” he said. “They wanted me to play something a lot more basic. We started Yes as a vehicle to develop everyone’s individual styles.”

Do not be mistaken: Many loathe the individual, un-basic bass style Squire created. Yes has been called self-indulgent, pompous and boring — a band more focused on its own members’ virtuosity than on artistic expression. Many say no to the 47-year career of these progressiv­e rock progenitor­s, a group Squire co-founded and played in through many lineup changes.

“Despite the fact that a formidable portion of the music we love (anyone from Radiohead and Super Furry Animals to Hella) is directly influenced by Yes and their prog-rock peers, we tend to look at the early ’70s through punk’s distorting lens,” the Pitchfork music blog wrote in 2004, “and that lens shows us images of dinosaur muso wankers lumbering from stadium to stadium with comically oversized light shows and Victorian clothing.”

But prog rock — the best of it, anyway — was, of course, about more than that. And Squire knew that.

Born March 4, 1948, in London, Squire, a fallen choirboy, seemed destined for a life of musicality — and rock ’n’ roll rebellion — from a young age.

“In 1964, Chris was suspended from Haberdashe­r Aske’s public school (a private school, in Britain) for wearing his hair much longer than was allowed,” Squire’s website read. “The money given to Chris for a haircut was ‘spent on other things.’ Chris never returned to school.”

Just four years later, he helped found Yes. In 1971, on its third album, the group scored an internatio­nal hit with I’ve Seen All Good People. Though the song weighed in at 6:56, its great length proved a mere preview of coming attraction­s. Next came Roundabout.

“The 11-minute opus that closes Yes’ 1971 album, Fragile, begins with an urgency and chaos of frenetical­ly blended guitar and bass notes that lead into a gentle coo of rolling, rhythmic waves,” Tessa Jeffers wrote in Premier Guitar last year. “With a flick of a wrist, maestro Chris Squire breaks the soft groove with his unusual lead bass guitar, punctuatin­g everything with intensely building lines and a haunting melodic immediacy. The two musical ideas furiously dance until suddenly the former dangerous vibe becomes infectious, and the unpredicta­ble mystique and intrigue of the climb peaks. It’s as if the song is trying to tempt a listener to come along — make the voyage.”

Taking stock of this band’s entire career — which lasted longer than four times that of the Beatles — would take a while.

But as Yes went in and out of style and members came and went, Squire was there for it all.

“For the entirety of Yes’ existence, Chris was the band’s linchpin and, in so many ways, the glue that held it together over all these years,” the band said on its website. “Because of his phenomenal bassplayin­g prowess, Chris influenced countless bassists around the world, including many of today’s well-known artists.”

By the end, Squire wasn’t playing favourites.

“The thing is, every era of Yes has had something to say,” he said earlier this year. “Things have moved around in the Yes sound picture, but basically, things have stayed the same as well. So I can’t really say which version is the more kickass because every version has come up with something good.”

Because of his phenomenal bass-playing prowess, Chris influenced … bassists around the world, including many of today’s well-known artists.

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 ?? GERRY KAHRMANN/THE PROVINCE ?? Bassist Chris Squire performs with Yes in 2014. ‘I couldn’t get session work because most musicians hated my style,’ Squire once said. ‘They wanted me to play something a lot more basic.’
GERRY KAHRMANN/THE PROVINCE Bassist Chris Squire performs with Yes in 2014. ‘I couldn’t get session work because most musicians hated my style,’ Squire once said. ‘They wanted me to play something a lot more basic.’

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