Chicago
Artist: Chicago
Albums I Listened To: Chicago II and Chicago III
Backstory:
I absolutely detest labelling music. Heavy metal, bop, hard bop, baroque, chamber music, progressive rock, free jazz, bluegrass, disco, funk, rap, soul, R&B, Delta blues, Chicago blues, Piedmont blues, country, New Country, country-rock, folk, easy-listening, adult-oriented rock, blah, blah, blah. A big part of my problem is that I let labels and categorization of music sway me. “I don’t like heavy metal,” I thought back in the ‘70s. In fact, I did. I was an early fan of Deep Purple and, if you have to put a label on it, they played metal. On the other hand, I used to think, “I love the blues.” Well, I do. But there is still some blues music I find boring.
And this label thing is a problem for me when it comes to the band Chicago. “Rock-jazz” was how their music was first described when they released Chicago Transit Authority in 1969. It was one of the first non-Beatles albums I ever bought. I adored it from the first time I played it. And I know a big part of my love for this album was the fact that it asked me a question I couldn’t answer: Is it rock with a jazzy horns? Is it a perfect melding of rock and jazz? Is it rock for the most part with periods where the band plays pure, big band jazz?
I couldn’t answer that. I still can’t. And I’m fine with that.
It was a double-album. Imagine that – a first record from a new band no one had heard of (although they had been performing for a few years under another name, The Big Thing). That said something to me. And sure enough there was a reason – this was a band that wanted to let things play out. Yes, there were a couple of big singles from the album – Beginnings, Questions 67 & 68 and, the one that really grabbed me, Does Anybody Know What Time It Is? But even as Top 40 singles, it was clear that this was sophisticated music played by some killer musicians.
When I got to the album, I found the music thrilling. The best part was that I couldn’t quite place it. As I was saying up in that second paragraph, it was all such a mix. The opener, “Introduction,” was a big, bold horn-fueled piece that slowed down in the middle with a soulful flugelhorn (!) solo and then came crashing back to the original rocker. Later, guitarist Terry Kath is given six or seven minutes on “Free Form Guitar.” Not for the faint of heart – obviously (in a good way) inspired by Hendrix, Kath show us his chops with reverb and all those pedals guitarists use. You either love it or hate it, but it showed me these guys were innovative and serious and no intention of being conventional. There was heavy blues on South California Purples and then a 15-minute barn-burner of a jam on Liberation to close it all out.
But on an album of high points, the key one, for me, was the band’s cover of Steve Winwood’s “I’m a Man.” The Spencer Davis Band’s (Winwood was in the band when he wrote it) original was already a classic. Chicago took it even further into a hard-charging bluesy funk. And in the middle, everything stops for Danny Seraphine to take a drum solo.
I know, I know: I go on and on about drummers and drumming. But I have to say that this solo by Danny was a real landmark for me. I was a young guy, just getting to the point where I could say I was a good enough drummer to play in bands. And while I knew you rarely get to do an actual solo in most performance, I got totally turned on by the great innovators in jazz and rock drumming and their solos – Gene Krupa, Buddy Rich, Ginger Baker and many others. And when I heard Danny take that solo in I’m A Man, well, it got right inside me. Buddy Rich once said a drum solo is like telling a story. And I could feel that in Danny’s solo. It has a beginning, middle and end and, musically, has all these little licks and moves that I taught myself to play. And I still use them today. If the band I’m in is doing China Grove or Love is the Drug, I’ll find a way to use something from Danny’s I’m a Man solo.
So, yeah, that first CTA album immediately became something of a sacred text to me. It still is.
Weird thing – I never bought another Chicago album. And, man, they sure did produce. God know what number they’re up to now. But after that debut stunner, I don’t even remember listening to one of their next albums. They produced some big hits (Make Me Smile, Saturday in the Park, 25 or 6 to 4, many others), but I have no recollection of the albums themselves.
But there were some guys in our gang in high school, John Monpetit, Jim Rini, Vince Morelli, who were big fans. I have this feeling we were at parties and they’d put the Chicago albums on. And I have this very vague memory of thinking that the albums that came after the first one didn’t have the same ballsy feeling as CTA.
And, despite my waving-away of this music, the early albums of Chicago became massive hits. They had legions of adoring fans. I just read Danny Seraphine’s autobiography and documents it – those albums sold like crazy.
Which is why these albums qualify for Music I Missed.
So, I’ve been listening to Chicago II and III for the past number of weeks. What do I think? Read on.
Reactions:
If I ever go back to Catholic Confession, I’m going to confess this sin: “Bless me Father for I have sinner. I just dismissed Chicago II and III without giving them a chance back in the early ‘70s. And I was wrong for that dismissal. Because, Father, this is kick-ass, incredibly sophisticated music that I’ve been listening to for a month now and it’s BLOWING MY MIND. Amen.”
These two albums are magnificent. Man, could these dudes in the original Chicago could play. I knew that from their debut album. God knows why I didn’t ever listen to the second and third albums. They are full of absolutely spectacular music. Some of it – much to my surprise and delight as a jazz disciple – is full-on jazz. There’s no pop to it, not even what you’d think of as rock. Jazz that swings, jazz from a funk angle, even jazz from an Ornette Coleman “free jazz” perspective. It’s often played in a big, booming way, which I really dug as it happened through the headphones. Exciting! It reminded me of when I first heard the Allman Brothers on their long jams on Eat a Peach and Cream and Hendrix when they’d break away from the Top 40 singles and explore how far they could go.
Yes, there were some top 40 hits off II and III. Chicago was remarkably good at creating hits. From Chicago II -- Make Me Smile, Color My World and 25 or 6 to 4. All huge hits. From Chicago III, no hugely recognizable hit, but that’s a very different album. Which I’ll talk about in a minute.
Those big this are terrific, classic songs. But it’s the other music that really blew my mind. Smart, sophisticated, innovative music. Actually, I’d call it brave. It took guts for a band that produced hits – and that was expected to – to also create music that had nothing to do with the top 40.
Around the time when these records were released in the early ‘70s, I was also deeply into jazz (I always have been). I was crazy about the work of Maynard Ferguson, Buddy Rich, Miles Davis, Stan Kenton, The Boss Brass, Thad Jones-Mel Lewis Jazz Orchestra, and Nimmons ‘n’ Nine — these big bands that played jazz in a more contemporary way than the Swing Era bands (actually, some of these bands were led by guys from the Swing Era, like Kenton, who were making a cool shift in the jazz they played).
And now I’m realizing that Chicago was playing the same kind of jazz as those pure jazz bands. And playing it well. Even Kenton acknowledged their music by covering a section of Chicago III on a 1974 album.
Examples? Check out the opening piece on Chicago II – “Movin’ In.”
It starts with those big horns in a kind of anthem. Then Terry Kath takes over on vocals, making a statement about the band, how much they love playing, how music is their mission. “Although our task is never done, you know it’s just begun.” And with that, the band flies into this very cool Basie-like swing sequence. Oh man, it’s fantastic. Water Parazaider (tenor sax), Lee Loughnane (trumpet), James Pankow (trombone) each take a solo and play their asses off. Backed up by the band’s superb rhythm section – Seraphine, Peter Cetera on bass, Kath on a jazzy guitar, and Robert Lamm on keys. Very cool stuff.
A few songs later is “In the Country,” which feels like a gospel piece combined with Aerosmith hard rock. And it features one of the extra-added bonuses of this band – three lead singers. Kath had the growly, classic rock voice; Cetera sang in the higher registers and had a soul sound; Lamm’s voice was in the middle (that him on “Does Anyone Know What Time It is?”). They sing well solo and in harmony.
The album is quite a mix of genres and approaches. Perhaps most intriguing are the short ones – West Virginia Fantasies is a couple of minutes of up-tempo instrumental horns that blend into the ultimate slow dance, “Color My World”…which blends back into “To Be Free”, another big-horn and drum jazzer for a minute.
And then…we go into “Now More Than Ever.” Which is actually part of “Make Me Smile”. The Top 40 “Make Me Smile” you have, no doubt, heard was actually a mash-up by the engineer of various, seemingly separate smaller pieces on the album. And Chicago approved that. Smart guys.
Toward the end is a mini-suite – “Prelude/AM Mourning/PM Mourning.” Hmmmm. Well-played, but I didn’t like it. A classical music moment that I found just weird. Not sure what the guys were getting at here. I have this feeling I heard this back at those high school parties and thought it was pretentious and silly. Maybe that’s what turned me off.
But, eventually, it is replaced in a cool way with another mini-suite, “It Better End Soon.” It’s a protest song, calling out war and hate. Chicago was big on social comment in that era of protest and upheaval. I always admired that about them. This piece is played with an energetic mix of jazz and soul grooves. Of note a long flute solo by Parazaider that feels like the great soundtracks by Lalo Schifrin for the Dirty Harry movies of this same period.
Incredible work. And on CHICAGO III, the sophistication continues. Hey, I loved Chicago II but #III is even better. A long, wild, bold ride. And full of variety.
It opens with a 9:18 workout that sets the tone for the rest of the album. An exhilarating, mostly instrumental, piece called “Sing a Mean Tune Kid.” Yes, there are some lyrics, but they don’t matter next to the wild ride the guys take you on with their horns, guitars, keys and drums. Impressive.
“Loneliness is Just a Word” is a jazzy toe-tapper featuring some terrific Hammond B-3 organ by Lamm.
“What Else Can I Say?” is a pretty ballad with Cetera on vocal. He was good at that kind of thing (although it would come much later to be too common with Chicago, and the band suffered for it).
“I Don’t Want Your Money” is an out-and-out power rocker. Fun. You can hear the guys yelling out “WOO!” as they tear through. Loved it.
And from that heavy rock, they totally change gears on “Flight 602” – as close to a Crosby, Still & Nash piece as you can get without it actually being CSN. Nice song. Light years away from the funk and foot stomping rock of “Sing a Mean Tune Kid” and maybe a change I found too jarring. But nicely played.
And then they change again. “Motorboat to Mars” is drum solo by Seraphine. That’s it. The whole piece is just him. Of course I loved it.
And so it goes. There is a ton of stuff on this album, jumping from pop to funk to instrumental mood pieces that verge on experimental music.
Toward the end of III, there is a sequence of pieces that is really something. It starts with “Progress?” where the horns play in a dissonant way over the sounds of urban expansion…cars, construction noises, with it all ending with a toilet flushing. Then the band starts “The Approaching Storm,” a funk groove that reminds me of the work of trumpeter Freddie Hubbard and his CTI grooves from back then. This, my friends, is jazz, pure and simple. No vocals, just all seven players jamming their asses off for seven minutes. The title implies something bad is coming…but it’s actually a joyous romp. And then that slides into “Man vs Man: The End.” Here, Danny Seraphine burns a military-like drum pattern on his snare while band blares an ending that sounds like what Aaron Copland might write if he were a jazzer.
Chicago would later become known for Peter Cetera’s swoony love songs (“If You Leave Me Now”, that stuff), which made them a lot of money but not the love of their original fans. And the music on these two albums is light years’ distance away from that later work. It’s amazing to think this Chicago – full of bold jazz and tight funk and wah-wah guitar – is the Chicago of later. So, enjoy all this.
SURPRISE FACTOR: 10+. As per the Backstory, I thought this would be pretentious jibberish. It’s the total opposite: brilliant, thoughtful, sophisticated music. God knows what you call it, but I loved it.
WILL I LISTEN TO MORE? I think I’ll listen to the albums up to #8. Actually, I’m digging #V now. It’s fantastic…and includes the joyous “Saturday in the Park.” Will report back on other listening.