Specifically the the third Chicago album. Which is entitled Chicago III, even though the album preceding it was not Chicago II, but Chicago. (The first album was entitled Chicago Transit Authority, hence the sequencing.) So this is the first “number” title. I like that. I also like that the band gave number titles to all of its albums, even the Greatest Hits packages. Makes it easier to keep tabs on things. And less pretentious. Though it was a little confusing for me when I first looked at the “first ten studio albums” package and saw that it ended with Chicago XII: Hot Streets. But it’s because we minus out a live album and the first greatest hits collection. Which are not studio albums. Or one isn’t, at least. Well, actually the band didn’t go back into the studio for the greatest hits album, so it had nothing to do with the recording studio itself. So that works.
Also interesting is the cover of this album. Partially because it just looks cool. A piece of raggedy flag? That could say a lot of different things, couldn’t it? But also because it doesn’t seem to say III anywhere. Makes me think of Peter Gabriel, whose first three solo albums were all called Peter Gabriel. (Although I see that now they are being retroactively named: Car, Scratch, Melt . . . and Security was on a sticker on the wrapping of the fourth album, so it was at least mostly named from the time of its first release. You'd think they could have come up with better names, though.)
As for the contents of Chicago III album, here’s my take.
The first song is a funky little number entitled “Sing a Mean Tune Kid.” Nice horns, funky bass and guitar lines, and a nice lead guitar bit. The song, written by Robert Lamm, but sung by Peter Cetera, weighs in at a hefty 9:13, and none of those seconds seem wasted. It doesn’t seem long, either.
The second song, “Loneliness is Just a Word” (another Roger Lamm composition), starts with several horn blasts, then settles in to a funky little riff with a light, flighty vocal by Terry Kath. That lightness is belied by the lyrics, though, which reveal some deep wells of pain.
Third song: "What Else Can I Say." And things get a little bit country. The vocals (by Peter Cetera, who wrote this song) sound much more like the Chicago you know from the radio, but the music is quite different. And while I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s “real” country, it’s also not mock or flippant country, you know? I get more of a feeling that the band is exploring this sound, seeing what can be found inside of the tropes and memes.
The fourth song, "I Don't Want Your Money," which rounds out the first side of what was a double disc album back in the day, starts with a little studio chatter, then a pretty heavy guitar line. And then that voice. Holy shit, where did that voice come from? It’s Robert Lamm, singing lead on a song he wrote with Terry Kath. I don’t know this band well enough to say if this is a natural voice for Mr. Lamm, but it sure isn’t a voice I’d ever have associated with Chicago before I took this 10 album set plunge. The music here still leans toward the horns, but underneath them is a pretty hard rock, blues tinged sound.
And then things get quite strange.
It’s a 6 song cycle under the title "Travel Suite," written by Robert Lamm, Danny Seraphine, Terry Kath and Walter Parazaider. A 6 song cycle. Hmm.
The first song, "Flight 602" . . . vocals remind me of Crosby, Stills and Nash. I mean that as a compliment, by the way, despite my ambivalence about CSN itself. The country tinge has returned here, largely courtesy of Mr. Kath’s lead guitar phrasings.
And then there’s a drum solo. What? Okay, name two other studio albums that include drum solos as songs. (As in an album other than Led Zepplin’s II.) And it’s close to a minute and a half long.
"Free." Which is just a cool song, both lyrically and musically. Musically, it’s got that nice 70s style whacka whacka whack guitar thing going on, a nice horn arrangement, and some very nice bass work. Kath’s vocals here are very classic rock and roll, deep and growly.
And when "Free" ends—abruptly—get this: solo piano for a minute or so (we’re talking shades of George Winston here . . . and, again, I mean that as a compliment) which is then joined by a flute. A fucking flute. And it is really quite pretty and even moving. But where the hell did that come from? And then it gets playful, piano and flute exchanging quips, and I’m not a big fan of that kind of stuff, but I have to say, The Balls of These Boys! Nobody would do this kind of thing thinking that it would be commercially viable. And this song goes on for almost six minutes. Just flute and piano. Well, maybe some water glasses. Sounds like, anyway. I shake my head in wonder. And admiration, too. The Balls of Thse Boys!
Then “At the Sunrise,” with Misters Lamm and Cetera taking turns on the lead vocals. Just a touch of country in the guitar again. The vocals are the main feature here, though, and there are a couple of really powerful moments in the two and a half minutes of song.
And then the last song of this cycle, a seven a half minute instrumental. Pretty much, anyway. There are some la las and some la la dah dahs. Guitar sounding a little Spanishy this time out. And the flute returns. Wow. End of Side Two.
But the tank still has plenty of gas, apparently. Side three consists of two “normal” songs and then another song cycle. The first song song is another Robert Lamm composition (and Robert Lamm vocal), “Mother.” Starts off with a driving beat and a familiar sounding voice, so that earlier bluesy / Kermit the Frog / Louie Armstrong / John Yarmuth voice on “I Don’t Want Your Money” was a different kind of sound for Mr. Robert. Well, after a bit, “Mother” shifts into a pretty jazzy sound. More along the lines of progressive jazz of the 70s, I think, though I don’t know a hell of a lot about this kind of thing. Sounds like progressive jazz to me, though.
And then it’s Peter Cetera time with “Lowdown.” Cetera actually sounds a little bit like John Fogerty here, which is good. Sometimes he sounds a little too Alvin and the Chipmunks-y for my tastes. And hey . . . this song sounds kind of familiar. Ah . . . it made it to #35 on the Billboard charts back in the day. So I probably heard it a time or two. Terry Kath does a nice guitar solo here, and the horns are quite happening. Yes, I like this Peter Cetera voice much more than the one I’ve heard out of him before.
And then it’s time for "An Hour in the Shower" with Terry Kath, which is another song cycle which consists of these bits:
"A Hard Risin' Morning Without Breakfast"
"Off to Work"
"Fallin' Out"
"Dreamin' Home"
"Morning Blues Again"
Kath is in great voice here, very bluesy. Almost Three Dog Night-sy. The lyrics aren’t great, but you hardly notice them because of the good tune and musicianship.
And side four begins with a spoken word piece. No music. Pretty grim stuff, too. I like that in a man.
And then it’s Robert Lamm on the vocals. This cycle is written by James Pankow, James William Guercio, and Kendrew Lascelles. Interesting that Lamm was the man to handle the vocals here, then, isn’t it? I guess Peter Cetera wasn’t the Main Man yet. If he ever was. Also interesting that most of the band members are involved in writing these song cycles . . . except for the trumpet player, Lee Loughnane, and Guess Who?
"When All the Laughter Dies in Sorrow" is followed by "Cannon," which is a brass only thing, and quite nice. Then with the next song the piano and flute are back--with a bass as well. Was that part of the arrangement on that earlier thing? Can't recall. Might go back and look. And oh, The Drums, The Drums, Boss! This thing builds to a nice little climax, then takes it back down to the Mellow Groove kinda thing. And I don't mean that as an insult. Though I would normally. It kind of works here. And I think it's--again--because it's part of a larger picture. And, in fact, it builds right back up again to another climax. Which then goes in to a series of street sounds with the blare of a trumpet or two for accompaniment. Maybe some other horns as well. Definitely some car horns. But interesting. I think this is "Progress?" But I'm too far from the cd player to see and too lazy to get up for a look. Besides, does anybody really know what song it is? Does anybody really care? And, again, this is not something I would have ever expected . . . or even suspected . . . from a Chicago album. It's funny, I kind of keep waiting for them to fuck up, you know? Like, "Oh, we're finished being a good, interesting, vital band now. We just want to do schmaltzy shit and make money from here on out. Peter, could you take point on this? Thanks."
BTW, that song ended with a toilet flushing. And this was several years before The Tubes's "White Punks on Dope."
"The Approaching Storm." Very jazzy. Parts of it actually sound like The Average White Band. I shit thee not. You should check it out.
Am I lying? Or what?
And that goes right into "Man vs. Man: The End," and that's that.
And that's good enough for me. Try it. You'll probably like it.
HOLD THE PRESSES!
It took me so GOTTdanged long to write the above that I've listened to V and VI and just started VII, and VII just made me stop what I was working on and come back here. Holy shit, what is this?
First off, it's another double album. So for the record, Chicago's first, second, third, and sixth studio albums were all doubles. The first one came out April 28, 1969, and the sixth one came out March 11, 1974. That's one hell of a lot of music in five years. 76:36 + 67:21 + 71:29 (+ 45:16 + 38:21 for the single disc albums) + 72:15 = 6 hours 11 minutes and 18 seconds of recorded music. That's a lot. But that's beside the point. The point is: Holy Shit, What Is This?
Ahem.
Rather than belabor things with my commentary, I'll just say that while this album did provide the world with two hit songs--"(I've Been) Searchin' So Long" and "Wishing You Were Here" (both of them sung by Peter Cetera, but the first one written by James Pankow and the vocal on the second shared with Terry Kath), there is nothing to indicate that this is a "pop" album for the first five songs, which are all jazz instrumentals. So get this, you're 25 minutes into the album before you even get a vocal track. As in halfway through the second of four discs.
The Balls on These Guys!
Oh, wait a minute. Looks like there were three hit songs from this album, the other being trumpet player Lee Loughnane's first song, "Call on Me." Which doesn't sound even a tiny bit familiar, so I'll have to see if I know it when it comes up. And yes, I would have heard it long ago, but after the fifth track I re-started the cd. There's some good shit there in those grooves, man.
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