A new documentary is in the works to honor the life and legacy of Alan White, a drummer whose work quietly helped shape the sound of modern rock. Announced by Yes, the band White played with for decades, the project comes three years after his passing and promises to be more than just a career recap. It’s being designed as a layered portrait: musical, personal, and deeply human.
Titled All Good People: The Alan White Story, the film is being developed by Michael McMorrow of One Take LLC, alongside Triple Squirrels Inc., with White’s widow, Gigi White, offering creative input. The production team says the documentary will include rare clips from the archives, new interviews, and live footage: each piece chosen to show the depth of White’s artistry and the quiet impact he left on those around him.
White’s journey through music started gaining serious momentum in the late ’60s and early ’70s. He played on sessions with giants: John Lennon, George Harrison, and left his mark on iconic tracks like “Imagine,” “My Sweet Lord,” and “Jealous Guy.” His style? Unassuming, but precise. He knew when to hold back and when to lean in, making him a go-to player for sessions that needed both emotion and control. He also spent time in Ginger Baker’s Air Force, showing how easily he could cross styles and stretch himself.
Then came 1972. White stepped in: on short notice, no less, to replace Bill Bruford in Yes. What was supposed to be a short-term fill turned into a 50-year tenure. Half a century. And across it all, he remained a steady core in a band known for its complexity and shifting lineups. His playing helped shape the sound of progressive rock, never showy, always in service of the music.
Producer Michael McMorrow shared a glimpse into the heart of the film after sitting down with original Yes frontman Jon Anderson. The conversation, he said, went beyond the typical interview. Anderson opened up, spoke about friendship, loyalty, and the kind of calm presence White brought, not just onstage, but off. He remembered White as someone who listened deeply, not only with his ears, but with a kind of stillness that put people at ease.
The film seems to be taking care to strike a balance: honoring White’s technique and career milestones while also capturing what made him, well, him. There’s a clear intention to move past the surface, to explore how his way of playing mirrored his approach to life. That kind of story will resonate: not just with Yes fans or prog-rock followers, but with anyone who’s ever been moved by the people who make music feel alive.
As the documentary moves forward, it adds to a slow but meaningful shift, one where the drummers, the rhythm-makers, the ones often left in the background, get the spotlight they deserve. In telling Alan White’s story, the film aims to do more than revisit a career. It wants to preserve a spirit. One that, quietly and steadily, changed the way we hear.