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In the annals of progressive rock history, few bands have courted controversy quite like Yes did when they announced their nineteenth studio album would feature a full orchestra instead of keyboards. After the acrimonious departure of Rick Wakeman in 2001 – the cape-wearing maestro citing creative differences and, one suspects, a fundamental weariness with the band's endless personnel merry-go-round – the remaining quartet of Jon Anderson, Steve Howe, Chris Squire, and Alan White found themselves at a crossroads. Rather than simply recruiting another ivory-tickler, they chose to collaborate with the London Philharmonic Orchestra, creating what would become 2001's *Magnification*.

The decision wasn't entirely without precedent – Yes had flirted with orchestral arrangements before, notably on *Time And A Word* three decades prior – but never had they committed so completely to the concept. Producer Tim Weidner, working alongside the band, crafted arrangements that would see Larry Groupé's orchestrations fill the sonic space traditionally occupied by synthesizers and Hammond organs. It was either inspired madness or commercial suicide, depending on your perspective.

What emerged was arguably the most cohesive Yes album since the halcyon days of *Close To The Edge*. Strip away the sometimes overwrought orchestral flourishes, and you're left with some of the strongest songwriting the band had produced in years. Anderson's voice, remarkably, had lost none of its ethereal quality, soaring over Howe's intricate guitar work with the same mystical authority that had defined the band's golden period.

The album opens with "Magnification," a seven-minute statement of intent that immediately establishes the new sonic palette. Howe's acoustic guitar dances with sweeping strings while Anderson delivers lyrics that, while typically abstract, feel more grounded than his usual flights of cosmic fancy. It's prog rock, certainly, but prog rock with its feet planted firmly on earth rather than floating in the stratosphere.

"Spirit Of Survival" emerges as perhaps the album's strongest track, a driving piece that recalls the urgency of *Fragile*-era Yes while incorporating the orchestral elements organically rather than as mere decoration. Squire's bass work here is particularly noteworthy – muscular and melodic in equal measure, providing the perfect counterpoint to the LPO's more delicate contributions. Meanwhile, "Don't Go" offers something approaching a conventional rock song, albeit one dressed in symphonic finery.

The real revelation, however, is "In The Presence Of," a sprawling ten-minute epic that proves Yes could still construct the kind of multi-part suites that made their reputation. Here, the orchestra doesn't simply replace the keyboards – it reimagines what Yes could sound like in the 21st century. Howe's guitar work shifts from delicate fingerpicking to soaring leads, while Anderson's vocals navigate the complex arrangement with the skill of a seasoned pilot.

Not everything works perfectly. "We Agree" feels somewhat pedestrian despite its orchestral dressing, and there are moments throughout where the classical arrangements feel imposed rather than integrated. The album occasionally suffers from the same malady that has plagued much of Yes's later work – a tendency toward the grandiose that sometimes obscures rather than enhances the underlying songs.

Yet these are minor quibbles with what stands as one of the most successful late-period albums by any of the classic prog bands. Where contemporaries like Genesis and King Crimson had long since abandoned their progressive roots, Yes proved they could still evolve without completely abandoning their essential identity.

*Magnification* would prove to be something of a last hurrah for this particular incarnation of Yes. Anderson's departure in 2008 due to health issues effectively ended the classic lineup, and subsequent albums have struggled to recapture this record's sense of purpose and cohesion. The orchestral experiment, while successful, was never repeated on this scale.

Today, *Magnification* stands as a fascinating footnote in the Yes catalog – proof that even veteran bands can surprise both themselves and their audiences. It's an album that rewards patience and repeated listening, revealing new details with each encounter. While it may not possess the revolutionary impact of the band's early masterpieces, it demonstrates that innovation and craftsmanship need not be mutually exclusive, even four decades into a career.