The number one song today in 1961:
A horrible irony today in 1964: A plane carrying all four members of the group Buddy and the Kings crashed, killing everyone on board. Buddy and the Kings was led by Harold Box, who replaced Buddy Holly with the Crickets after Holly died in a plane crash in 1959:
Today in 1976, Chicago had its first number one single, which some would consider the start of its downward slope to sappy ballads:
The number one song today in 1957 …
… came from a just-opened movie:
The number one song today in 1967:
The number one British album today in 1973 was the Rolling Stones’ “Goats Head Soup,” despite (or perhaps because of) the BBC’s ban of one of its songs, “Star Star”:
Who shares a birthday with my brother (who celebrated his sixth birthday, on a Friday the 13th, by getting chicken pox from me)? Start with Paul Simon:
Robert Lamm plays keyboards — or more accurately, the keytar — for Chicago:
Sammy Hagar:
Craig McGregor of Foghat:
John Ford Coley, formerly a duet with England Dan Seals:
Rob Marche played guitar for the Jo Boxers, who …
One death of note: Ed Sullivan, whose Sunday night CBS-TV show showed off rock and roll (plus Topo Gigio and Senor Wences) to millions, died today in 1974:
Fans of brass rock should be interested in this news:
Relentless after 46 years, Chicago releases catchy new anthem, “America” [OFFICIAL PRESS RELEASE]
Iconic mega-band Chicago returns to its musical roots with a soaring grass-roots anthem about restoring the American dream
Chicago, Illinois (MMD Newswire) September 24, 2013 – – Multi-platinum, Grammy ® Award winning rock/jazz fusion band Chicago has released a new song, “America,” a stirring challenge to “we the people” to save the American dream before it’s too late.
Set for official release on September 24, “America” is poised to “make waves” in musical, political, and even sports circles (the LA Dodgers are already playing the track during their home games). The new hit-in-the-making takes Chicago back to their roots of impeccable musicianship, blended with the political awareness that was so prevalent during the group’s early days.
Very few rock bands have survived through six consecutive decades, much less remained relevant and productive. Chicago is no “oldies” group resting on faded memories. They have sung and played their way from the era of AM radio straight into the Internet Age, continuing to produce fresh, original music, touring to sold-out houses, and never missing a concert date. Not only have they remained relevant, they have also paved new paths that inspired countless other bands.
Chicago has simply concentrated on producing consistently good music. “America,” a song that some are saying could be an anthem of the new century, is laden with a strong chorus, hooks, and horn riffs throughout.
“America is a song that has been waiting to be written for many years,” according to band co-founder, Lee Loughnane. The core message of “America is you and me”, intuitively resonates with people. Chicago’s grass-roots message, far from being polarizing, is crafted to inspire people of all political perspectives, who, though disagreeing vehemently on many points, still share common fears and hopes for the future of the nation – we are truly all in this together.”
With lyrics and music also written by founding member Lee Loughnane, and impassioned lead vocals by keyboardist Lou Pardini, “America” features the classic horns and rhythms that have captivated listeners for generations. The lyrics are intentionally straight forward and memorable, and the sound is pure Chicago. …
“Perhaps in some way, the message found in ‘America’ will remind people to think about how much more we can all do, especially in what we demand from OUR government,” says Lee Loughnane. “America can and should be an even better place… We must find new ways to work together to preserve this remarkable pursuit of happiness. To preserve a life of freedom for generations to come, we simply cannot — must not — fail.”
And with those signature horns, tight rhythms and iconic vocals egging us on, failure does not seem to be an option.
Before I comment about “America” (not to be confused with Simon & Garfunkel’s “America” or Neil Diamond’s “America“): This news release demonstrates what I despise about public relations, my line of work for seven years — hype. “Relentless after 46 years”? “Iconic mega-band”? “Soaring grass-roots anthem”?
“Inspired countless other bands”? Name them. “… a song that some are saying could be an anthem of the new century”? Who’s saying that? Two people in the office of MMD Newswire? “The core message of “America is you and me”, intuitively resonates with people”? According to whom?
This sort of writing drives me nuts. And I say that as, as you know, a huge fan of Chicago. Fans appreciate their recording new stuff, but go to a concert (and I’ve been to three of them), and that part about being “no ‘oldies’ group resting on faded memories” doesn’t really quite apply. More to the point: The quality of something either speaks for itself, or doesn’t, and our buzz-saturated media landscape needs less hype, not more. MMD’s Newswire has a page called “Writing Help.” Rather than giving writing advice, I’d say MMD needs writing advice.
As for the song itself, you can hear a preview of it here. Click there, and you will hear these words:
… By the people, for the people, everyone’s equal.
‘Cause this is America, America is free,
America, America, everyone’s free.
America, America is free,
America, America is you and me.
The Declaration tells us we’re all free and equal
No religion, no color, just people,
No one’s better, no one’s worse,
Everyone comes first.
I wouldn’t call it “a soaring grass-roots anthem” because rock anthems are usually higher-tempo and louder (in the sense of peaking all the bars, from earth-moving bass to soaring soprano, on a graphic equalizer display) than this. It does, however, fit into their early- to mid-’70s body of work, including “Saturday in the Park,” which I’d say it resembles the most in music. (Along with a little Santana.) You can hear the horns, which is a huge improvement over most of their work since the early ’80s. Of their most recent brass rock work, I’d say I prefer the sound of “Stone of Sisyphus” (for that matter, I prefer “Chicago Transit Authority” and “Chicago II,” specifically “Ballet for a Girl from Buckhannon“), but this isn’t bad at all, and certainly better than their sappier ballads.
It’s sort of an ironic song if you consider Chicago’s first work, including the entire last side of their first album, Chicago II’s “It Better End Soon,” on an album dedicated to “the revolution in all its forms.” It’s sort of a flashback to the last song on “Chicago II,” “Where Do We Go from Here,” written by former lead singer/bass player Peter Cetera (in his pre-sappy ballad era), or “Dialogue.” Though in the case of the former, I’m not sure if the words fit “America” or not:
Try to find a better place, but soon it’s all the same
What once you thought was a paradise is not just what it seems
The more I look around I find, the more I have to fear …
I know it’s hard for you to
Change your way of life
I know it’s hard for you to do
The world is full of people
Dying to be free
So if you don’t my friend
There’s no life for you, no world for me
Let’s all get together soon, before it is too late
Forget about the past and let your feelings fade away
If you do I’m sure you’ll see the end is not yet near
Arguably “Dialogue Part I,” a dialogue (get it?) between singers Terry Kath and Cetera …
TK: Are you optimistic ’bout the way that things are going?
PC: No, I never ever think of it at allTK: Don’t you ever worry
When you see what’s going down?
PC: Well, I try to mind my business, that is, no business at allTK: When it’s time to function as a feeling human being
Will your Bachelor of Arts help you get by?
PC: I hope to study further, a few more years or so
I also hope to keep a steady highTK: Will you try to change things
Use the power that you have, the power of a million new ideas?
PC: What is this power you speak of and this need for things to change?
I always thought that everything was fine, everything is fineTK: Don’t you feel repression just closing in around?
PC: No, the campus here is very, very freeTK: Don’t it make you angry the way war is dragging on?
PC: Well, I hope the President knows what he’s into, I don’t knowTK: Don’t you ever see the starvation in the city where you live
All the needless hunger, all the needless pain?
PC: I haven’t been there lately, the country is so fine
My neighbors don’t seem hungry ’cause they haven’t got the time, haven’t got the timeTK: Thank you for the talk, you know you really eased my mind
I was troubled by the shapes of things to come
PC: Well, if you had my outlook your feelings would be numb
You’d always think that everything was fine, everything was fine.
… applies less than “Dialogue Part II”:
We can make it happen
We can change the world now
We can save the children
We can make it better
We can make it happen
We can save the children
We can make it happen
(Some might say “Part I” sounds like a dialogue between the late ’60s or early ’70s (Kath) and the ’80s (Cetera). The more cynical might say the entire theme from ’60s and ’70s for those of college age, other than avoiding getting drafted, are in the words “I also hope to keep a steady high.”)
Regular readers know I am, to say the least, skeptical of politics in rock music. There is, however, something possibly interesting going on between the “Dialogue” Chicago and the “America” Chicago. It’s hard to say that the ’60s were really about dialogue; they were about getting your own way, whether or not the mainstream agreed with you. No one cared about being divisive.
Loughnane’s comment about “what we demand from OUR government” is interesting given the people who claim that we demand contradictory things from OUR government — namely, more services but less taxes — which could be said to be a direct result of Loughnane’s generation. (Everyone comes first, as they say.) You certainly can’t blame the band for thinking something is seriously wrong with this country, because something (or more one than something) is seriously wrong with this country. The problem is that Americans can’t agree on what is wrong, other (maybe) than the nasty, winner-take-all, destroy-the-opposition attitude of and toward politics, let alone what to do about it. I have an opinion of why that is that is nonpartisan but certainly ideological; others have a different opinion from me. If I were to talk to a diehard Barack Obama lover (based on some of my more odious experiences on Wisconsin Public Radio), I’m not sure we’d agree on the time of day, let alone, say, what “free” should mean.
It’s nice to see some sunny, we-can-make-it-happen optimism of the late ’60s. I’m pretty sure it’s not warranted as we careen toward the mid-2010s as divided as we have been since the Civil War, with no hope in sight. (Remember how united we were after 9/11? That didn’t last long, did it?) But maybe I’m reading too much into a song.
Today in Great Britain in the first half of the 1960s was a day for oddities.
Today in 1960, a campaign began to ban the Ray Peterson song “Tell Laura I Love Her” (mentioned here Friday) on the grounds that it was likely to inspire a “glorious death cult” among teens. (The song was about a love-smitten boy who decides to enter a car race to earn money to buy a wedding ring for her girlfriend. To sum up, that was his first and last race.)
The anti-“Tell Laura” campaign apparently was not based on improving traffic safety. We conclude this from the fact that three years later, Graham Nash of the Hollies leaned against a van door at 40 mph after a performance in Scotland to determine if the door was locked. Nash determined it wasn’t locked on the way to the pavement.
The number one single today in 1961 was made more popular by Elvis Presley, not its creator:
Also today in 1961, the Marvelettes released what would become their first number one song:
Today in 1964, the Beatles met Bob Dylan after a concert in Forest Hills, N.Y. Dylan reportedly introduced the Beatles to marijuana:
How much money would you have paid for tickets for this concert at the Cow Palace in San Francisco today in 1964:
The number one song today in 1965:
Three years later, the singer of the number one song in Britain announced …
Today in 1976, Chicago released what would become its first number one single, to the regret of all true brass rock fans:
For the second time, my favorite rock group, Chicago, will play the opening-night concert at the EAA AirVenture in Oshkosh Monday.
Unlike 2010, however, I won’t be there. It is basically impossible for me to be there since I now live about three hours to the southwest, and unlike most of my career before now, Mondays are marathon days at work. And my work doesn’t require an EAA media pass, so I have no professional reason to be there either.
The 2010 EAA concert was the third time I’ve seen Chicago.
The first time was in Madison (accompanied by much of the UW Marching Band) in 1987, and the second time was in Fond du Lac, when the group was brought in by a local radio station for a fundraiser, in 1997.
The EAA location, however, is the most unique place I’ve ever seen them — on the flight line, with the notes bouncing off airplanes. It’s not a typical music experience, but the opening-night concert has turned out to be one of the best additions to AirVenture.
Chicago is one of the best selling rock acts in rock music history, with 47.7 million albums, singles and music videos and more than $100 million sold, more than such acts as George Michael, Bob Dylan, Cher, the Beach Boys, Kiss, Paul McCartney, Stevie Wonder, the Who, Santana, Foreigner and other rock icons.
Chicago is also one of the few rock acts of the ’60s and ’70s that continues to record and tour with at least some of its original members — trumpet player Lee Loughnane, trombone player James Pankow, saxophone player Walter Parazaider, and keyboard (and “keytar”) player and singer Robert Lamm. Chicago is not, however, in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, even though it should be.
Chicago is either the first or second, depending on how you measure it, brass rock group to get radio airplay. (The second or first was Blood Sweat & Tears.) Horns have been part of popular music for a long time, but Chicago was the first or second act to use horns as part of the melody, not merely as accompaniment.
The first Chicago song I remember hearing was “Just You and Me” in the early ’70s. The first time I saw Chicago was on an ABC-TV special taped at the Colorado recording studio/ranch where the group recorded at least one album.
I got hooked on Chicago a few years after that. It was at my aunt and uncle’s house, which included a reel-to-reel tape player on which my uncle had the entire 12-minute-55-second-long “Ballet for a Girl in Buckhannon,” which includes Chicago’s first released single, “Make Me Smile.” And he played it. Loudly. And as a middle school trumpet player, suddenly playing trumpet meant something. Our wedding 15 years after this included another part of “Ballet,” “Colour My World,” in part because it was part of one of Jannan’s sister’s weddings, but also because of who recorded it.
There are at least five versions of “Make Me Smile” in existence. The three-minute radio single version …
… is the first and last parts of “Ballet,” technically “Make Me Smile” and “Now More than Ever.”
WIBA-FM in Madison used to play “Make Me Smile” from the album and stop on the fadeout before part two. WLS radio in Chicago did a longer single version, initially played only on their airwaves, that combined “Make Me Smile” up to the second “Ballet Song,” that is also part of “The Very Best of Chicago: Only the Beginning,” which runs 4 minutes 25 seconds. Between WLS’ and “The Very Best” was my version, done on a cassette recorder (you remember cassettes, right?) that was about 4 minutes 25.5 seconds, because it included two drum beats that preceded “Now More than Ever” on “Ballet.”
Chicago’s second album, now called “Chicago II,” though it wasn’t at the time (the band’s original name, Chicago Transit Authority, got truncated because of a threatened lawsuit by, you guessed it, the CTA, which apparently didn’t care about nationwide free advertising every time the band got airplay), also includes “25 or 6 to 4,” a song about … writing a song …
… although it could be about filling a weekly newspaper in the middle of the night before production day:
Waiting for the break of day
Searching for something to say
Flashing lights against the sky
Giving up I close my eyes …Staring blindly into space
Getting up to splash my face
Wanting just to stay awake
Wondering how much I can take
Should I try to do some more
25 or 6 to 4Feeling like I ought to sleep
Spinning room is sinking deep
Searching for something to say
Waiting for the break of day
Anyone who played for a high school or college band should be a fan of Chicago. (That might explain the impressive age range of those attending the concerts, the upper end being, I assume, fans who heard their music in its original release.) The horns are not just an add-on like in the Beatles’ “All You Need Is Love”; they were integral to nearly every song, at least until the regrettable sappy ballad phase began with the band’s first number one single, “If You Leave Me Now.” Even in the ’80s, when excessive keyboards crowded out nearly everything else, Chicago still used horns more than any other rock or pop band.
The group’s songs incorporate two of the universal themes of rock and roll, love and rebellion, with ’60s why-can’t-our-world-be-better-than-it-is idealism, and, contrary to most other groups, what you could call observational songs, including “Saturday in the Park” and “Old Days.”
Chicago has a somewhat epic backstory. (Then again, what ’60s group doesn’t?) Pankow tells this story about “Make Me Smile,” which came from Chicago’s second album:
“I was driving in my car down Santa Monica Boulevard in L.A.,” Pankow remembers, “and I turned the radio on KHJ and ‘Make Me Smile’ came on. I almost hit the car in front of me, ’cause it’s my song, and I’m hearing it on the biggest station in L.A. At that point, I realized, hey, we have a hit single. They don’t play you in L.A. unless you’re hit-bound. So, that was one of the more exciting moments in my early career.
If you ever watched singer and bass player Peter Cetera sing, he sings without moving his jaw. That’s because he went to a Los Angeles Dodgers game at Dodger Stadium where, according to Cetera, two Marines took a dislike to him (hair? Cubs fan?) and broke his jaw. Since he was making no money while not singing, he sang through his wired-shut jaw, and ever since then, he hardly opens his mouth to sing.
Chicago played, and recorded albums from, concerts at Carnegie Hall in New York and the Greek Theatre in Los Angeles. Chicago also had a TV special, “Meanwhile Back at the Ranch,” set at the Caribou Ranch recording studio in Colorado.
Then singer and guitarist Terry Kath died in an accidental shooting incident.
A decade later, singer and bass player Peter Cetera left for a (sappy ballad) solo career, right about the time the group was descending into Sappy Ballad Hell.
(Ironically, Cetera’s replacement, Jason Scheff, who looks somewhat like and sounds a lot like Cetera, has been in the band longer than Cetera was.)
Yet, the four originals — Loughnane (whose last name I vow to use for the hero in a future novel), Pankow, Parazaider and Lamm — still play on the road.
That seems to be because, despite the road’s drawbacks (see Bob Seger’s “On the Road Again”), the concerts themselves are a blast to play in. (I learned from my five years in the UW Band and my 25 years out of it that I prefer playing in the band to watching the band. Strange.)
The four of them appear to be having the time of their lives almost five decades after the group began. That’s a really good indicator of how good a concert will be.
The other thing the band appears to have reconciled themselves to is what its fans want — the “old stuff.” The band is now up to 30 numbered albums, plus a couple of concept albums (Big Band and Christmas), so they are still occasionally recording new stuff.
Chicago fans were all atwitter a couple years ago when an unreleased album from the 1990s, “Stone of Sisyphus,” was finally released.
I don’t recall anything from it being played at EAA.
I criticize Chicago for getting away from their early sound. Others criticize Chicago for being popular, as if one cannot do good work and sell a lot of records. (Popularity does not always equal quality, but popularity doesn’t necessarily mean lack of quality, Britney Spears and One Direction notwithstanding.)
One thing Chicago has done since before 2010 is auction off a chance to Sing with Chicago — specifically, on “If You Leave Me Now,” through an online auction whose proceeds go to the American Cancer Society.
The only musical ambition I’ve ever had was, as you know, the UW Band. (Which tried to have Chicago perform with them the day of the Madison concert; unfortunately, the logistics didn’t work out.) The only Walter Mitty fantasy I have (similar to my father the piano player‘s getting to play with Bobby Darin and Ray Charles) is playing with Chicago, although the fantasy of being pulled out of the crowd to perform is, to say the least, highly unlikely. (I’m sure I could play all the Chicago songs I’ve heard, with the exception of the really high notes, but not right off the bat.)
Today, Chicago’s only radio airplay is on oldies stations. Keep this in mind, though: “The Very Best of Chicago: Only the Beginning” (which is currently trapped in my car’s CD player) went double platinum with no new music on it.
Since this post is already hellishly long already, I will conclude that Chicago is the band that … makes me smile.
We begin with a song that was set on this date (listen to the first line):
The number one song today in 1955 was probably played around the clock by the first top 40 radio stations:
Anniversary greetings to David Bowie and Iman, married today in 1992:
Steve Prestegard.com: The Presteblog 