90125 came out in November 1983 and represents one of the more remarkable reinventions in rock history. Yes had effectively broken up in 1981, and what eventually became this album started life as a completely different project - a new band called Cinema, built around bassist Chris Squire and drummer Alan White, with South African guitarist Trevor Rabin drafted in to write most of the material. Jon Anderson eventually came back to handle vocals, Cinema became Yes again, and the whole thing was shaped by producer Trevor Horn into something that felt genuinely fresh. It was their eleventh studio album, but for a lot of people it might as well have been a debut.

The sound is a world away from the sprawling prog epics of the 1970s. This is crisp, polished, MTV-era rock - big hooks, glossy synths, snappy rhythms, and vocal harmonies that sound absolutely immaculate thanks to Horn's production. Rabin's guitar is central to the whole thing, giving it a harder edge than you might expect, and the rhythm section of Squire and White is as tight and powerful as ever. It draws on new wave and synth-pop influences without feeling like the band are chasing trends - it genuinely sounds like they were excited about what they were making. There's real energy in it.

Owner of a lonely heart is the obvious standout - it's a brilliant pop-rock track with a great riff, an unexpected structure, and enough personality to justify its enormous success. Leave it is another highlight, with those layered a cappella harmonies doing something genuinely unusual. Changes is a slower, more reflective piece that nods back to the classic Yes sound, and Hearts closes the album on an expansive, almost cinematic note. What makes 90125 worth revisiting is how well it's aged - it's tight and confident, the songwriting is strong throughout, and it manages to be both very much of its time and strangely timeless. A proper grower if you give it the chance.