caravan70's Full Review: Chicago Transit Authority [Remaster] by Chicago
In The Dyer's Hand, a 1962 collection of literary ruminations, W.H. Auden gives us the following as one of the essential functions a critic can perform:
Convince me that I have undervalued an author or a work because I had not read them carefully enough.
In that vein, then, I'm going to push upon anyone still reading this review after the above reference an album that's been one of my favorites since the day almost twenty years ago I first dug a copy out of a buck bin and overcame my prejudices against a band I considered to be pop pabulum. The debut effort of Chicago, then known as the Chicago Transit Authority, is an incendiary and topical collection; though it should have been pared to a single disk, this record's best material remains vital. Having endured crappy Chicago hits from the releases that followed, I needed a musical shove to be convinced that any production by this band would be of interest, even for a dollar. It was hearing "Questions 67 and 68" on a Columbia compilation that sent the eponymous double album into my stack at the counter of a dingy spot known only as "Records" (obligatory plastic musical notes framing a sign that looked as if it would fall upon a passer-by at any moment).
That LP has remained in my collection; I've never had to replace it. It's not hyperbole to suggest that I've gotten more out of that single dollar bill than on any other occasion. It's one of those records that sits in my stacks for six months or so, and then doesn't stray more than three feet away from the turntable for a few weeks after my attention turns to it again. It's the inventive structures, ensemble tightness, and instrumental pyrotechnics that distinguish this release from any later Chicago effort.
"Introduction," the opener, is a statement of purpose much like "Come All Ye" on Fairport Convention's Liege and Lief, setting the tone for what lies ahead. Impressive horn ensemble work is the first striking element of this music; reminiscent of Blood, Sweat & Tears' The Child is Father to the Man and some of Sly and the Family Stone's early work, it's tight and powerful. It's the solo work in front, though, that gets your head nodding; you start to pay closer attention, and then realize that you're listening to something pretty special. Walter Parazaider gives us a lyrical sax solo that leads into a Terry Kath guitar showcase that seems to threaten the chemical integrity of his strings, and the whole thing culminates in an ensemble moment powered by Danny Seraphine's aggressive drum work. It's an encapsulation of the energy and bright, brassy production of the entire album.
The second side is the highlight of the record, I think. You get "Questions 67 and 68," a short (by CTA's standards) pop song that nevertheless incorporates some fine solo work with the usual cohesive horn foundation. But "Listen" and "Poem 58," two of the finest songs here, follow. "Listen" is what the Butterfield Blues Band might have produced at the time of East-West if they'd had a full horn section behind them: it's a languid but straight-ahead blues piece that stops and starts in differing time signatures in a style which, while not quite Frippertronic, is pretty interesting for American music in 1968. The best element of "Poem 58" is the Kath solo that will remind you more of Hendrix than of Charlie Christian or Tal Farlow: it's roughly three minutes of "Hear My Train A'Comin" lifted wholesale and transplanted into one of the better Kasenetz-Katz productions. I often find myself bringing the tone arm back several times until I've had my fix of Kath's inspired work here.
The version of the Spencer Davis Group's "I'm a Man" found on the third side is what many people remember when this LP is mentioned, and it's excellent. There's the bluesy feel of the original, augmented by superior production techniques and stretched-out solos; the Seraphine percussion is notable here for its technique and restraint in an era of overblown drum interludes. Those that steer immediately to this piece would be well advised to back up one track, though; "South California Purples" awaits, and it's impassioned and soulful in a way that Chicago would never quite be again. Beginning with a simple Peter Cetera (believe it or not) bass line, the group erects a foundation that's not unlike an early Ten Years After number but builds a fancier house: you experience textures from the players that change more like cross-fades than turns at bat. This song is yet one more case made for the potential of Chicago as a creative and relevant ensemble, a promise they sadly never fulfilled.
Reasons why this would be the case are found in listening to some of the overblown and superfluous tracks here. "Free Form Guitar" essentially finds Terry Kath with an Al Goldstein publication, pulling out his guitar instead of unzipping his pants; while Side 4 is useless unless you didn't get enough of the '68 Chicago Democratic Convention through John Chancellor and need the proceedings set to music in a way that will give the phrase "the whole world's watching" the same Pavlovian impact upon you as Beethoven eventually had upon Malcolm McDowell in A Clockwork Orange. The most salutary effect of listening to this suite of inept political statements is the realization that at least you're not being subjected to "It Better End Soon," possibly the wimpiest anti-war song ever recorded, which would follow a year later. (Some would comment that the title should be best applied to the band's occupancy of a recording studio.)
This is a seriously flawed record, but only in that the band and producer James William Guercio couldn't seem to find a paring knife. There's music here that's essential, and it makes worthwhile not only the money you shell out for the record but the energy you expend in occasionally lifting the needle to skip a track and your surprise in discovering that while Side 3 is fairly worn down, Side 4 is in pristine condition (no automatic changer 1/4, 2/3 bit here, surprisingly enough for 1968). It's joyful and inspired in the way that only an auspicious, hopeful debut can be, and there's only one negative side effect you may experience after acquiring it:
You'll twist the tuning knob even harder the next time the first strains of "Hard to Say I'm Sorry" pop up on your car radio.
Epinions.com periodically updates pricing and product information from third-party sources, so some information may be slightly out-of-date. You should confirm all information before relying on it.
![Chicago Transit Authority [Remaster] by Chicago](http://di1.shopping.com/images1/pi/f0/22/15/2004547628-177x150-0-0.jpg)
- Add to My Yahoo!: 
- Add to Google Homepage: 
© 1999-2009 Shopping.com, Inc.