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San Francisco Chronicle Mon., June 7, 1982
CHAMPLIN JOINS A DRAB CHICAGO
By
Joel Selvin
Even Bill Champlin
can’t save Chicago. The immensely talented triple-threat player/singer/writer
was on board when the once massively popular band hit the Circle Star Theater
last weekend on the comeback trail.
Champlin replaces
guitarist Terry Kath, killed in a gun accident more than four years ago, both
in the performing band and in the studio, on the group's latest album,
"Chicago XVI."
No more talented musician
ever left the San Francisco rock scene than Champlin. For 13 years, he led the
Marin-based Sons of Champlin, one of area's most distinguished musical
organizations, which never was appreciated by a broad following. Once he moved
to Hollywood, however, Champlin changed his luck, scoring a big success as a
recording session player and songwriter, turning out hits for the likes of
Earth, Wind and Fire and George Benson.
So along comes a
renovated Chicago, popsters behind tuneful but superficial ‘70s AM radio hits
like “Feeling Stronger Every Day," "Saturday in the Park,” “Wishing
You Were Here," among others. Armed with new bigtime management in Irving
Azoff, business brain behind the Eagles, Boz Scaggs, Steely Dan and others, a
new recording contract and a new record producer, David Foster, whose recent
credits include such hip stylists as the Tubes and Hall and Oates. Chicago
invited Champlin to play, sing and write for the band.
At first glance, it
seemed a promising combination: Champlin, the peerless white soul singer and
resolutely funky master musician, with the kings of white bread brand bogus
soul, a personality-less-hand joined by a genuine incendiary performer.
Even if the rotating
stage at the relatively small Circle Star Theater may be something of a
bringdown for a group accustomed to performing at cavernous halls like the Cow
Palace or, worse yet, massive open-air shows at baseball stadiums, there is no
excuse for the lame, drab 90-minute performance Chicago gave at the early show Friday.
Save for Champlin, the
band's lineup had all the original members, including loathsomely ingratiating
vocalist Bobby Lamm, whose putrid outfit and blow-dried hair style would have
looked square in a second-rate lounge act. The three-piece horn section and
seasoned, drummer supplied the evening's musical highlights. Drummer Danny
Seraphine surely steered the band through tidy rhythm changes, with the brass
supplying grand, glorious flourishes out of the Stax-Volt school of Memphis
horns.
The band mixed bland
numbers from the new album with equally bland hits from its auspicious past,
bassist Peter Cetera adding a Beach Boys vocal touch in contrast with Lamm's
sullen, silky tones and Champlin's gritty, growling approach. Champlin is a
strong enough personality to dominate a group with even as rigid a membership
as Chicago, but he never got much room to move. It was a little like keeping
Reggie Jackson in the lineup as a pinch-hitter.
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