It’s worth remembering that between the release of 1971’s Fragile and 1974’s Relayer, Yes had steadily risen from plucky progressive rock hopefuls to become bona fide superstars, selling millions of albums around the globe and effortlessly filling arenas around North America and Europe.
With relationships souring due to clashing egos and the financial imperative to keep the cash-cow rolling, the idea of enabling every band member to record a solo album could be viewed either as a cunning managerial sleight of hand, designed to let off some creative steam outside of the parent band – or a collective act of hubris. This being Yes, the answer is likely to be both of the above.
Received wisdom has it that the best result is either Chris Squire’s Fish Out Of Water or Jon Anderson’s Olias Of Sunhillow for first place, with Steve Howe’s Beginnings possibly pipping Patrick Moraz’s Story Of I, and Alan White’s Ramshackled coming last – largely, it seems, because it doesn’t sound anything like Yes.
That doesn’t mean Ramshackled is a bad album, despite its self-deprecating title. Stylistically, it has more in common with Americanised soft rock and aims for a generally laid- back, cosy performance.
As White himself explained at the time: “It’s quite simple; I just made an album of music I really enjoyed playing with a good band.” In that context, there’s much to like about this batch of mostly agreeable songs that draw upon friendships struck up in White’s pre-Yes life.
With the drummer content to stoke the rhythmic engine, all the music is composed by his old pals; and except for Silly Woman’s ill-advised cod reggae it’s all good, if undemanding.
Ooh Baby bounces with a Latin-infused groove complete with Santana-style Hammond organ stabs. Soulful vocalist Alan Marshall – a terrific performer best known for his work in ethno jazz-rockers Zzebra – fronts most of the album, sounding especially effective on the portentous Darkness Pts 1-3, which are enhanced and illuminated by lovely David Bedford brass and string arrangements.
The instrumental Avakak leans into a choppy quadrant of funky jazz-rock, while Spring-Song Of Innocence, in which Anderson channels William Blake’s poetry, adds a cosmic contrast to an album where the other songs are decidedly earthbound.
Single edits of Ooh Baby and One Way Rag appear on CD for the first time and complete the new edition. It’s best to dispense with any prog expectations and enjoy Ramshackled for the fun it is.
Ramshackled: Remastered & Expanded is on sale now via Spirit of Unicorn.
