San Diego Union-Tribune (Sunday)
Yes man said no to Bowie
In 1971, keyboardist Rick Wakeman declined an offer from the rock legend and joined Yes instead
David Bowie? Or Yes? Young keyboard wizard Rick Wakeman was just 21 years old in the summer of 1971 when he received simultaneous invitations — literally on the same July day — to join two very promising but very different bands in his native England.
One was the fast-rising Yes. It would soon become one of the world’s most acclaimed and successful progressive-rock acts, thanks to the classic albums “Fragile” and “Close to the Edge,” and such widely embraced songs as “Roundabout” and “And You and I.”
The other was the Bowie-led Spiders From Mars, which would soon achieve international stardom with the landmark 1972 album “Ziggy Stardust & The Spiders From Mars.” It features an uncredited Wakeman playing harpsichord on the song “It Ain’t Easy,” a leftover track from “Hunky Dory,” Bowie’s previous album.
“It was not an easy decision,” said Wakeman, now 72, who brings his “The Even Grumpier Old Rock Star” solo tour to El Cajon’s The Magnolia on Saturday night.
A much in-demand studio musician in London, he had been friends with Bowie since playing a solo on the orchestral-sounding keyboard known as a Mellotron on Bowie’s 1969 hit “Space Oddity.” The blond-haired Wakeman had also performed on such classic 1971 Bowie recordings as “Changes,” “Life on Mars” and “Oh! You Pretty Things.”
At the time, Wakeman had not yet recorded with Yes. But the band’s members had been fans since sharing a concert bill with his previous band, The Strawbs, a year earlier. They were convinced he would be a better fit than Yes’ original keyboardist, Tony Kaye, who was fired because of his reluctance to embrace the Mellotron, synthesizers and other then-relatively-new electronic keyboard instruments.
‘David agreed with me’
For any young musician seeking to broaden their horizons, let alone pursue fame and fortune, the chance to team up with either Yes or Bowie was a dream come true. But to have both options offered at the exact same time was beyond daunting.
“It was very difficult,” Wakeman affirmed, speaking via Zoom recently from his home in Norfolk on England’s east coast.
“Because David Bowie was the most influential person I have ever worked with. I just adored his music and working with him. He was miles bigger than Yes in England at that time. But Yes was a band experimenting with progressive music and was not frightened to take chances.
“I felt that, with The Spiders, I would have had the freedom to play David’s music the way I wanted. But it would be David’s music and there would be a ceiling to how much I could contribute. With Yes, I could have a real influence.
“David agreed with me. We were neighbors in Switzerland for four years, and he once said to me: ‘You made the right decision to join Yes. Because I choose my musicians based on what album I’m making at the time. So after three or four years, you might not have been in my band anymore.’ ”
Ironically, Wakeman’s initial tenure with Yes lasted barely three years.
He quit the band in May 1974. His departure was accelerated by two key factors.
His own career was taking off in a big way, thanks to the charttopping success of his first two solo albums for A&M Records, 1973’s “The Six Wives of Henry XIII” and 1974’s “Journey to the Centre of the Earth.” And he was unhappy with the musical direction Yes was taking.
Vindaloo curry onstage
Wakeman had been deeply frustrated by Yes’ often lumbering and disjointed 1973 doublealbum “Tales From Topographic Oceans.” He has since dismissively referred to it as “Tales From Toby’s Graphic Go-cart.”
The 1974 tour in support of “Tales” found him onstage for long stretches with no instrumental parts to perform. At one U.K. concert, Wakeman, bored and in no way averse to puckish behavior, ate an entire Indian dinner — onstage while seated at his multiple keyboards — while the rest of Yes dutifully performed.
“I had a chicken vindaloo curry, with Bombay potatoes aloo, rice pilaf, papadum and naan,” Wakeman recalled in a 2004 San Diego Union-tribune interview.
“Unfortunately, the smell was quite strong and most of the people in the audience could smell it as well. I won’t say it went over ridiculously well (with Yes’ other members), although (lead singer) Jon (Anderson) popped over and had a papadum.”
It remains to be seen if Wakeman invokes his onstage Indian meal during his Saturday concert here at The Magnolia.
He may note the fact that he has joined, quit and rejoined Yes at least half a dozen times. He may also note, or not, that he has been married four times, suffered three heart attacks, had chronic pneumonia, stopped drinking in 1985 after being diagnosed with cirrhosis of the liver and alcoholic hepatitis, and become a bornagain Christian.
Regardless of what he discusses, Wakeman won’t have a band with him or any electronic keyboards. Instead, he will be playing solely on a Steinway grand piano as he revisits songs from throughout his career as a solo artist and studio session musician. And he’ll happily share some anecdotes about Bowie and some of his other celebrated collaborators.
The key word here is “some,” given that Wakeman has recorded and released more than 100 solo albums.
“I really don’t know how many I’ve made — and I don’t have copies of all of them!” he said with a chuckle.
As for his recording credits as a keyboardist for hire with other artists, there are too many to cite. Some of the classic and nearclassic albums he played on include Elton John’s “Madman Across the Water,” T. Rex’s “Electric Warrior,” Cat Stevens’ “Teaser and the Firecat,” Lou Reed’s self-titled 1972 debut solo album, Black Sabbath’s “Sabbath Bloody Sabbath,” The Kinks’ “Percy” and Al Stewart’s “Past Present and Future.”
Relishing return to stage
In a late 2019 Rolling Stone interview, Wakeman speculated that the arthritis in both his hands would likely lead to his retirement sometime this year. But that was before the pandemic led to seven of his tours being postponed, rescheduled or canceled in succession.
Wakeman did not return to the stage until last October. As a result of his long layoff, he now values live performances more than ever.
“I think that what happened in the last three years has made most people realize that so many things in their lives are precious and deserve more respect than we give them,” he said.
“I terribly missed playing concerts and meeting people. That’s what drives the music — and always has: the interaction between audiences and performers. This has been a horrible time for people who enjoy concerts. And it’s been an awfully horrible time for the venues that put them on. So, yes, the pandemic did make me realize how even more precious music and life are than I had even realized.
“When I did my first piano concert onstage since 2019 last fall, I hadn’t planned to say anything. I had planned to walk out onstage, sit down and play straight away. But I couldn’t help first saying to the audience: ‘This is fantastic! Look, there are people out here.’ And somebody yelled back: ‘Yeah, and there’s somebody onstage!’
“We all had been waiting so long. And I’m not one for Zoom concerts. I don’t think they work. Because you need the interaction of people breathing the same air as you in whatever concert hall or auditorium you are in. I was never a Zoom fan; it was not even second best (to live performances).”
What, then, was it like for him to make his 2020 album “Red Planet” during the COVID-19 quarantine, especially since he and his fellow musicians each had to record their parts separately from their respective home recording studios?
“The way I was able to make ‘Red Planet’ work is that I followed David Bowie’s example, which I always have,” Wakeman replied. “And that is: Pick musicians you know, who will do what you want, and you’ll probably end up with results you want.
“I did all the initial tracks on keyboards and sent them to the guitarist, bassist and drummer with basic instructions, like, ‘This is the main theme.’ And I said, ‘You know what I like, so go ahead and do it for me.’ Not only did they do that, but they added touches of their own that I loved.
“That was very much the way it worked with Bowie. And that’s why, when you listen to any of Bowie’s records, it isn’t difficult to realize that every musician he used knew what Bowie wanted. That was the secret. And ‘Red Planet’ worked out great.”
Dixieland jazz fan
In his late teens, Wakeman was a student at London’s prestigious Royal College of Music. He dropped out when his recording studio session work began to interfere with his classes.
Less known is the fact that he was — and still is — a big fan of traditional jazz in general, and of clarinetist Mezz Mezzrow and saxophonist/clarinetist Sidney Bechet in particular. Or that, at the age of 12, he and his older cousin began performing in a Dixieland-styled jazz band called Brother Wakeman and The Clergymen.
“That’s very true,” he said, laughing at the memory. “Everyone in bands at that time had band jackets. But we were school kids who couldn’t afford them. So we put our shirts on backwards. It looked like we were wearing dog collars!
“I was a huge Dixieland jazz fan, and I still love playing it to this day. My father was a great stride pianist, so I learned a lot from him. And one of my most enjoyable times, ever, was the first time Yes went to New Orleans in 1971. I went into many of the clubs on Bourbon Street and sat in with the bands. It was absolutely fantastic.”
Did Wakeman’s early love of jazz impact his later work in progressive rock, a hybrid genre in which virtuosic soloing was almost mandatory?
“It has, that’s for sure,” he replied.
“I liked the way there was freedom with the players in Dixieland bands. But the freedom wasn’t a mishmash of everybody playing and playing. If you go back to (the ensemble playing on) a song like (1925’s) ‘Sweet Georgia Brown,’ it’s priceless.”
Asked if he could cite a single jazz number on any of his 100-plus solo albums, Wakeman acknowledged that there is only one. He cited the jaunty, banjo- and clarinet-styled “Half Holiday,” a track from his 1979 release “Rhapsodies.”
“I tried to create the sound of a traditional Dixieland band, using only keyboards,” he recalled.
“This was in 1979, and there were no polyphonic synthesizers or sampling yet. So I had to create the sounds of the different instruments myself, and I was really pleased with the outcome.”
In 1980, while living in Switzerland, Wakeman popped up onstage at the famed Montreux Jazz Festival in between sets by blues great Champion Jack Dupree and rock ’n’ roll pioneer Fats Domino. He played a single selection, George Gershwin’s “Summertime,” which was featured on Wakeman’s “Rhapsodies” album.
“I lived in Montreux and would go down to the festival a lot to listen to the acts I fancied,” he said. “B.B. King was fantastic the night he played. And Etta James turned up to play, and half her band didn’t make it. So I got roped in and played clavinet (an electric keyboard) with her, which was great.
“The night Fats Domino played, there was a little gap before he came on, and (festival founder) Claude Nobbs — who is the godfather of one of my sons — asked me if I could go out and play a number. And you’re quite right, it was ‘Summertime.’ That was the last time I played Montreux on my own because I moved back to London later in 1980.
“But I played in Montreux again in 2002 with Yes, and I still go there a lot. So it all comes full circle.”
“I think that what happened in the last three years has made most people realize that so many things in their lives are precious and deserve more respect than we give them.”
Rick Wakeman, above circa 1970