The final album by the version of Yes that made 90125, Big Generator, and contributed to Union, Talk is actually a better-than-decent melodic rock record for much of its running time. Guitarist Trevor Rabin unplugs some of his pedals and sounds more like Steve Howe than he ever has; the songs are straightforward, but don’t seem as cravenly aimed at the radio as they were on Union. Indeed, this was the record on which Jon Anderson and Trevor Rabin finally started to work well together, each man’s vision for the group fitting together with the other’s. In some ways, the album recalls Rush’s Counterparts — a veteran band exploring modern ideas, in a somewhat stripped-down way, without losing their grip on their own identities. The final track, “The Endless Dream,” is where Talk becomes essential listening for serious Yes fans, though. It runs nearly 16 minutes, and perfectly bridges the gap between their 1970s glory years and their poppier work of the ’80s and ’90s. It’s got the epic sweep and meditative beauty of Close To The Edge, with occasional outbursts of high-tech energy and some atmospheric yet aggressive guitar from Rabin.

This was the first Yes album not to appear on a major label — after two decades with Atco, they shifted to Arista for Union, but Talk was released on the comparatively tiny Victory Music imprint, which went bankrupt soon after, sending it out of print. So it’s kind of the “forgotten” Yes album. Too bad, since it’s their best 1990s release.