Take a band of ambitious musicians led by an R&B lounge-crooner/keyboardist, a guitarist thoroughly influenced by Jimi Hendrix and a trombonist/arranger schooled in big-band swing, put them in the studio with a producer who understands their aspirations but wants to make three-minute hit singles, and you have Chicago. You also have several forces working against each other. Credit producer Jim Guercio with holding it together while realizing his goal, for Chicago has had more hit singles than almost any American rock group in the Seventies. Credit Bobby Lamm, Terry Kath, Jim Pankow and the rest of the band for taking direction and yielding to each other for the sake of equilibrium. Credit them, and while you're at it, listen to them, because Chicago XI is their triumph. Chicago has finally overcome its tremendous musical schizophrenia and come up with an album that balances musical direction with commercial demands.

For a group designed to monopolize MOR taste, Chicago has had difficulty adjusting to success. The band clearly lost sight of its limits after the glut of hit singles that followed the release of its second album. The ensuing eight albums produced some brilliant moments but no consistent musical style. It was always apparent which tracks were recorded for the group and which for the audience. On the fifth and seventh albums, Chicago tried to move into more challenging musical territory, but such songs as "Hit by Varese" and "Devils Sweet" were not commercially successful. As a result, the band became cynical on its eighth and tenth albums.

But Chicago has finally snapped out of it; the players sound more interested here than they have in years. The key to this resolve is their return to the language they started out with—pop R&B. Before its first LP, Chicago played pop hits mixed with Stax/Volt material; the group specialized in such dance tunes as "More" and a Tijuana Brass medley. Those songs eventually gave way to covers of Frank Zappa's "How Could I Be Such a Fool" and whole sections from Sgt. Pepper and Magical Mystery Tour. Chicago may have listened to Don Ellis, Gary McFarland and the Mothers of Invention for inspiration, but back then the band was more of a rhythm section than a sophisticated jazz group. The horns were used to punctuate the arrangements and, after years of stretching out, they return to that role on Chicago XI. That's why this record often sounds like a compression of the ideas and directions on the band's first album.

Interestingly, the album's opening cut and tonesetter is a song guitarist Terry Kath wrote five years ago, "Mississippi Delta City Blues." The title alone suggests an awareness of Chicago's role as honky bluesmen, but Kath's pun is for real—he overdubs a flat, country-blues rhythm pattern on top of the urban-blues shuffle that shapes the tune. Kath carried the band in its early stages, especially onstage, and his presence on Chicago XI is stronger than it's been since the group's third album. He sings more songs than anyone else and plays his heart out all the way through. On "Mississippi," Kath delivers a spunky vocal matched by James Pankow's tastefully supportive horn arrangement (sparse punches of sound with the root chords played by the rhythm section). Drummer Danny Seraphine and bassist Pete Cetera may be the two best musicians in the group, and the arrangements on Chicago XI encourage them to push rather than shackle themselves. Kath breaks the whole thing down to a power trio of himself, Seraphine and Cetera for "Takin' It on Uptown," a searing tribute to Hendrix that sounds like a fully realized take of Jimi's unfinished "Dolly Dagger."

Though Chicago XI is similar in feel to the group's early records, it's a far more sophisticated production. Guercio has perfected a recording style that goes far beyond the techniques he brought from the Buckinghams and the second Blood Sweat & Tears album to Chicago Transit Authority. The sound of each instrument, particularly the drums and guitar, is full and well articulated, and the mix compounds endless overdubs into a smooth flow. Pete Cetera's ballad, "Baby, What a Big Surprise," blends two eras of Beatle production qualities effortlessly. The vocals (Pete Cetera on lead with Tim Cetera, and Beach Boy Carl Wilson backing) and Kath's guitar are right out of Abbey Road, while the string and horn orchestrations have a "Penny Lane"/"Magical Mystery Tour" feel. Kath's three-part guitar solo on "This Time" shows Guercio's understanding of the recording technique used by the Beatles on Abbey Road's "Carry That Weight." The contrasting tones are locked into a tight pattern for dramatic effect.

"This Time," written by trumpeter Lee Loughnane, and Pankow's "Till the End of Time" extend the album's return to R&B roots. The latter is a cleverly designed blues progression with a terrifically catchy hook in the chorus; the former is a stomper that rolls energetically from Lamm's opening electric piano through a sing-along chorus with Lamm switching his rhythmic accompaniment to swinging organ washes reminiscent of the blue-eyed pop/soul of the Young Rascals.

Bobby Lamm is not as prominent as when he was the spokesman for Chicago's political viewpoint. His two songs on Chicago XI reflect a shift in attitude. "Policeman" displays none of the rage Lamm formerly associated with this figure of authority; instead, it scales him down to just another lonely guy whose wife left him with only his pet cat and nightly six-pack. "Vote for Me" is a jubilant tune with throwaway lyrics written as a parody of the glib political promises made by presidential candidates.

Lamm's political changes are significant. It's likely that Chicago's resolution of its identity crisis is a function of the musicians' own growth from the naive, self-styled revolutionaries they once were to the more placid pop stars they've become. Where they once used their forum to promote political reform and attempt to stretch the boundaries of popular taste, they now accept the responsibility of representing a generation of middle-class American kids more interested in finding jobs than tearing apart the system. Although this stance may seem far more boring, it certainly is a lot more realistic. (RS 251)

JOHN SWENSON