Yes

There have been multiple lineup changes over nearly four Yes decades, but the force is still strong. From the arrival of keyboard wiz Rick Wakeman in 1971 through the crossover perfection of "Owner of a Lonely Heart" in the barnstorming mid-'80s phase, and beyond, Yes delivers the goods with consistent virtuosity.

Once immersed in the universe of Yes, it's impossible to escape: there's enough complexity to merit years of re-listening and, on the occasion when you need to stretch your legs and rock out, you'll find steel-tipped tracks like "Tempus Fugit" on Drama: who, except Yes, could have welded prog-rock to triple-paced ska?

Yes is, without a shadow of a doubt, the greatest prog-rock band in the history of life, the universe, and just about everything else. You just can't knock their continuing quest to take rock on a journey of cosmic discovery. Once you've perfected drawing the swirly logo on your schoolbooks, you have committed yourself to Yes for all eternity.

Yes is never short of surprises, like the band's muscular version of Simon & Garfunkel's "America." We're also taken aback by the very notion of Relayer: it's a two-song album, structured along the lines of classical suites, an approach they pioneered on 1972's Close to the Edge (their masterwork). Who needs neatly packaged tracks? Yes give us rock unfettered and free to roam. For our money, there's no beating Yes when they're playing live or stretching out ultra-long compositions like balls of cosmic string. Maestro, if you please . . .