The great modern composer Karlheinz Stockhausen wrote and lectured extensively on what he felt was the duty of all musicians (and indeed, what has been deemed an essential duty of musicians throughout many cultures and over many thousands of years): to be transmitters who turn the cosmic energy that underlies all creation and consciousness into the audible tones and rhythms that we now call music. “One is only secondarily a musician, a specialist, a human being with a profession,” he wrote. “One is primarily an individual spirit that must first establish contact with the universal spirit before communicating anything essential to other spirits, going beyond what is individual and to some extent involving every other spirit.”

When we think of the short list of popular rock musicians who have understood and striven to achieve this lofty goal, the late Chris Squire immediately comes to mind as one who not only tried, but achieved great success at it.

In such a nod to Chris we must also, of course, recognize the other leading figures of the Yes brotherhood, especially Jon Anderson and Steve Howe. There is no doubt that Jon especially played a key role as a Yes songwriter, especially in the lyrical and thematic content of the band’s central repertoire. Steve was obviously a core songwriter as well. In this tribute to Chris, I want to put the focus not on the minutiae of who wrote what music or words for this or that section of this or that song, but rather shine a light on him as a vital component to the overall production of the entire body of music—works that hold great significance, both in the time of their creation and in the overall scope of history.

We know clearly that Chris’ contributions consisted of various chord progressions, melodies, thematic ideas, lyrical bits, innovative harmonies, expressive bass counter-melodies, intriguing chord inversion choices, and production concepts. We can easily point out the significance of his style of bass playing, his ground-breaking bass tones, and even his accomplishments as one of the great harmony vocalists. All these achievements are widely covered in the many well-deserved accolades that have been laid at his feet since his recent passing. But let us dig deeper. Let us give some thought to the very heart of the matter: what fueled the motivation, the inspiration, and the dedication in Chris to serve such an indispensable role in the communion of souls that produced this treasure trove of musical work.

A strong spirit of rebellion was certainly there, but it was a very specific type of rebellion which insisted that one should be true to one’s self. That is a big part of what made Yes one of the ultimate rock bands—because they rebelled against the very idea that rock music had to be a certain way, that it was supposed to be something different from what their vision and inspiration dictated of them at the moment. After all, if rock music did not have such freedom, then what would it become other than a caricature of its former self, a restrictive medium with a new dogmatic set of rules?

It truly boggles the mind to listen to certain critics and naysayers who prefer to not understand this, and who attempt to reduce the band to a mere experiment in wedding “authentic” rock ‘n’ roll with boring, high-browed classical music. There’s hardly a reason to even respond to such nonsense, but it does warrant pointing out that through this stance these critics have tried to turn the old rebellion into a new establishment that must be rigidly defended. The irony of the phrase Meet the new boss, same as the old boss was obviously lost on them long ago.

But there’s yet something deeper always going on in Yes than just the creation of innovative, kick-ass rock music. The rebellion did not limit itself to chords, notes, song structures, and instrumentation. In my mind, it was no less than the transformation of rock music from a mere rebellion against outdated social mores and political restraints to a sophisticated rebellion against spiritual isolation, the darkness of the stagnant mind, and philosophical apathy. It was a bold move to not just speak of the universal light, but to reach out to it, become a conduit for it, and try to hold onto it so that it could shine on others. The spirit of Yes was to create music that was itself a current of cosmic electricity transposed into sound, and as difficult and trying as it was at times to accomplish the work, there was an unmistakable joy of participating in that process which always came through and infected the open-minded listener.

If you’re thinking this is all just flowery language and metaphor, think again. Forget the standard line found in much of the commentary on the thematic content of Yes’s music—that it is merely a pastiche of ornate, beautiful, mind-expanding imagery. This is a band that created a double-studio concept album based on specific spiritual concepts used in the pursuit of self-realization (Tales of Topographic Oceans—it’s all there in the liner notes). When the lyrics were not an obvious on-the-nose discussion of spiritual matters, they were more often than not tales serving as analogies to the inner struggle and quest to perceive and live in the divine. Jon directly tells us as much in the Anderson Bruford Wakeman Howe song “Quartet,” in which he refers to various songs from the Yes catalog, including “Long Distance Runaround,” “The South Side of the Sky,” “The Gates of Delirium,” and “Roundabout,” attesting to the fact that they were all about awakening a belief in, and awareness of, God—a very personal God—and attaining the universal consciousness divine.

Jon has expounded much further in numerous interviews, such as with Carl Wiser of Songfacts, in which he explained that he had made a concerted effort to deal with spiritual concepts through imagery and metaphor, so that he could talk about everything from the underyling unity of life to the solace of guardian angels without being specific and speaking in a pedestrian, non-poetic way. Need we say any more?

We must keep in mind here, that it was only with the right underlying music that these celestial concepts could be delivered properly, as a unified whole. Indeed, from one perspective, the specific words of the lyrics in Yes songs exist to make further manifest the energy and feeling of the underlying music. The two go hand-in-hand and are inseparable.

Thus, we inevitably come to the conclusion that Chris’ prominent role in creating this music makes him one of the great esoteric musical minds of our time. He was one who understood and regarded music as something far more than a mere vehicle for providing entertainment. As it has been over many ages of man, and across cultures throughout the world, music was a means for breaking down barriers to interpersonal fellowship, and for breaking down barriers to understanding and perceiving the true reality of our existence—the reality of a consciousness and energy that transcends the world of atoms.

Godspeed, Chris. We will surely miss you, but your gifts will always be with us. They will continue to brighten our days. And they will continue to remind us to keep looking beyond the veil, because the transcendent reality is out there, just waiting for us to acknowledge and perceive it.