It’s a funny thing, becoming a fan of a band when they’ve already been around a while, and they have a long canon to absorb. Such was the case for me when I started listening to Yes back in 1991. My main frame of reference, outside of a high school friend who already owned 90125, Close to the Edge, and Fragile, was the Rolling Stone Album Guide, which used the magazine’s traditional star ratings on albums from artists up to the very early ’90s. In many ways, that book was a bible for 14-year-old me, as I learned about rock music that was created long before I was born.
Unsurprisingly, considering Rolling Stone’s holier-than-thou approach to who and what made music good and the magazine’s general disdain for progressive rock, a lot of Yes’ catalogue was given short change in the book. There were the records they couldn’t deny, like the ones mentioned above alongside The Yes Album, but outside of those, Yes and their releases were frowned upon, especially 1980’s Drama and 1974’s Tales From Topographic Oceans. Because I was young and just finding my way around the music, I took those poor rankings to heart, which meant that for years, I gave neither Drama and Tales…much time, outside of the killer bass parts from “Tempus Fugit” and “Does It Really Happen,” highlights of the Yesyears box set. The funny thing is, years later, Drama became my favourite Yes album, ironic in many ways since it was missing the presence of Yes’s founding member and vocalist Jon Anderson. That’s a story for another day, though.
Tales From Topographic Oceans, though…that was a different story. It took me a long time to find my way into that album. My first real exposure to its music didn’t come from the studio album; instead, it was the performance of “The Revealing Science of God” from the band’s 1996 live album Keys to Ascension where I first really listened to music from Tales…and while I really enjoyed that version, and hearing “The Revealing…” live in concert on the Open Your Eyes tour in 1997, it still took a while for me to gravitate and appreciate that original album. In fact, I’d say it’s only been in the last few years that I’ve really been able to appreciate the trip that Yes takes you on across two albums, four sides, and four songs, each of them 20 minutes in length.
At the time, and even some 50 years later, Tales From Topographic Oceans asks a lot from a listener. And the new gorgeous Super Deluxe box set from Rhino Records, masters of reissues, asks for a lot more, offering up 12 CDs of music from the era. Included here are the original album remastered, a 2026 remix by the masterful Steven Wilson, single edits, instrumental mixes, and studio run-throughs, along with live material of Tales music from the era. There’s also the original album remastered on two LPs and a Blu-ray featuring the various versions, including a gorgeous Dolby Atmos mix that envelopes you in the world the band created.
All of this is housed in a beautiful set featuring Roger Dean’s original art and liner notes from Syd Schwartz. For those fans who want every single piece of music related to Tales From Topographic Oceans, this version is essential, trumping the previous definitive edition released 10 years or so ago by Pangyeric. That version, while wonderful for its time, can’t quite compare to this new iteration, which is physically larger and definitive in scope. Consider it a clearinghouse for a classic, still divisive piece of Yesstory.
As I’ve listened regularly to the music on these CDs, vinyl, and Blu-ray discs, interspersed with other music and artists, I’ve found that when I keep coming back to the album, it’s not out of a sense of obligation to write a review and share my thoughts, but because of what the music actually does for me. The more I’ve listened to Tales From The Topographic Oceans leading up to and with this new set, the more I find my ears engaging with the music created by Anderson, Steve Howe, Chris Squire, Alan White and Rick Wakeman in ways I haven’t previously. The music is a trip; it is a musical journey, as it flows instrumentally through slow movements, complex passages, and rhythmic attacks. It’s not necessarily easy music to absorb, but then again, it isn’t Metal Machine Music either (love you, Lou Reed). There are gorgeous harmonies, memorable riffs and superb playing. Tales From Topographic Ocean can be many things depending on how you want to listen; it can be background music that fills a room, or it can be thoughtfully debated and combed over with a fine-tooth comb. It’s not accessible in the way that The Yes Album or 90125 are, but it’s also not a piece of music designed to alienate listeners (again, hello Metal Machine Music).
Would I give a newcomer to Yes the Tales From Topographic Oceans Super Deluxe Edition? No, that would be overkill. However, for longtime, super hardcore fans of the band who want to understand the band’s creative process when it was close to its peak, this box set, like Rhino’s previous ones devoted to Yes’s classic 1970s releases, tells the tales and then some.
