There has been only one time in my entire life that I purchased an album on the day it was released, and that was 2006’s Chicago XXX. It had been well over a decade since the group recorded an album of all-new original material, and because I was a longtime fan of Chicago I was excited when I pulled out my credit card at Barnes & Noble to pay full price for their brand-new CD advertised as something unique from the classic rock band.
I listened to the whole disc while driving home from work that evening and was devastated – especially by the first half of it, which was overloaded with odious ballads before Chicago offered anything that remotely resembled rock ‘n’ roll.
At the time I was a member of a now-defunct Chicago fan forum, along with most of the other writers of the Saturdays in the Park series. So I posted a review that expressed my extreme disappointment with the album. I was immediately jumped on by several different members who complained that I wasn’t “loyal” to the band, that I bought the disc just to trash it.
In my defense I said that I desperately wanted to love Chicago XXX, but enjoying music isn’t about loyalty. It’s about the personal satisfaction you get when listening a particular piece. In addition, I added that I’m not in the habit of spending $16.95 plus tax on something I don’t believe I’ll like. The anger toward me was so intense that we may as well have been arguing about masks and vaccines.
Regardless of my desire to be happy with my purchase, I have to deal with the reality of the situation. Unfortunately, Chicago XXX is musical roadkill, and nothing illustrates that more than Bill Champlin’s “Why Can’t We.”
It’s yet another bombastic Chicago production, the kind they’ve been drowning in ever since David Foster came in to throw the band overboard. Once again, “Why Can’t We” is loaded with outside musicians, proving Chicago doesn’t really care about their music at all. To them, it’s just product. Synthesizers are used instead of strings. The horns are real, but they’re pointlessly pasted on top of the arrangement. The lyrics aren’t about anything. It’s just another generic song about a man needing a second chance with the woman he desires. It’s all been done so many times before.
Champlin is front and center on the vocal, but he is joined by country star Shelly Fairchild and she isn’t a good fit for Chicago’s urban-contemporary sound. When she is singing, “Why Can’t We” is totally unrecognizable as Chicago. Fairchild is probably only there because a country star, Jay DeMarcus, produced the album.
The result is Chicago at its worst, and a perfect example of why the band that gave us some of the best jazz-rock ever created needs to surrender now. Terry Kath is probably rolling over in his grave.
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