There was a buzz among fans in late 1993 surrounding Chicago’s forthcoming 22nd album, Stone of Sisyphus. A release date was set for March 22, 1994. Interviews with band members and even album producer Peter Wolf appeared in the Windy City Gazette fan-club newsletter, building anticipation into a fever pitch.
Stone of Sisyphus was to be the antithesis of 1991’s Twenty 1, an album that the band still regards with all the scorn and disgust of gum found on the sole of a shoe. In contrast, Stone of Sisyphus promised fire and intensity. A sense excitement was palpable.
Then that magic date in March got pushed to April, and then to September – and then poof, along with all that excitement for the album, it was gone. Stone of Sisyphus remained on a shelf for 14 years. In the meantime, the project’s legend grew — much like it had with the Beach Boys’ unreleased SMiLE – as bootleg copies floated around in those intermediary years. Stone of Sisyphus was everything Chicago said it was in those long-ago interviews.
The title track speaks to that whole experience, perhaps more than any other on Stone of Sisyphus. Here was a band pushing a boulder up a hill, only to have the record label roll it back down again once they got to the top. A similar frustration was shared by many fans, as Chicago simply walked away from an album they’d once claimed to believe in so deeply. The band stopped fighting with their label on behalf of Stone of Sisyphus. Fans begged for the album’s official release year after year, only to have Chicago dismiss it out of hand – sending that stone rolling right back down the hill.
Composed by departed guitarist Dawayne Bailey, “Stone of Sisyphus” boasts a fire not heard since the days of Terry Kath. Robert Lamm contributes some of the best vocals since his prime in the early ’70s on the verses, juxtaposed with Bailey’s soaring tenor vocals on the choruses. The horn chart dances around them, much as it had in Chicago’s creative heyday – as opposed to being an afterthought on much of the material from 1982’s Chicago 16 through 1988’s Chicago 19.
Unfortunately, Chicago had one last insult: The belated official release, now dubbed Chicago XXXII: Stone of Sisyphus, was a musical atrocity. The mix is so compressed that it’s downright claustrophobic. The songs almost feel as if they’re hyperventilating from the lack of space. The fact is, bootlegs that have been floating around for decades still boast superior production values.
Sorry Chicago, if the 2008 version is the best you can do for this album, I’m going to roll this stone right back again. Fans deserve better.
- The Most Surprising Moment on Alan Parsons Project’s ‘Eve’ - August 27, 2024
- Why the Audiobook Versions of Jimmy Barnes’ Autobiographies Are Definitive - June 24, 2024
- Kahvas Jute – ‘Wide Open’ (1970): Antipodean April - April 28, 2024
