Copyright © 2017
by Ralph F. Couey
Past a certain age in life, the number of obligations
begin to shrink in number, creating, or I should say, recreating moments of spontaneity. Such a thing happened Sunday when, quite by
accident, we discovered that Chicago and the Doobie Brothers, two rock bands
who had largely shaped my adolescence, were in Phoenix for a one-night show. It was so spontaneous that I bought the
tickets on my phone standing in the parking lot.
For teenagers and young adults, music, as much as any
other thing, provides not only entertainment, but a soundtrack through which
our lives are expressed. I turned twelve
in 1967, which meant that my brain was filled with the Beatles, Bob Dylan,
Peter, Paul & Mary, and yes, Elvis.
As the decade turned over into the 70’s, the music took a much harder
edge. The Beatles were now four separate
acts. The Stones, Zeppelin, Deep Purple
and the Grateful Dead. Pop now achieved
its divorce from rock n’ roll with the Jacksons, Elton John, Neil Diamond, and
the Supremes. Folk emerged from the
Village coffee houses and we heard Gordon Lightfoot, Crosby, Stills, Nash, and
Young, Simon & Garfunkle, and Joni Mitchell. Motown surged with muscular authority with
James Brown, Aretha Franklin, Gladys and the Pips, and Wilson Pickett. American radio stations blasted listeners
with all those formats, a kind of electronic cross-culturalism.
I had several favorite acts, and a ton of favorite songs. But around 1970, two bands emerged for
me.
In 1969 San Jose, California, survivors of a band
called Moby Grape formed a new group that would eventually evolve into the
Doobie Brothers. By 1972, they were
charting nationally. Their unique sound pushed through the background noise and
captured my attention. I remember when
Cheryl was pregnant with our son, I would put a Doobies record on and place the
headphones on her belly, hoping to entertain that developing fetus. Oddly, after he was born, he never liked
either band.
About that same time, another band came out of
Chicago, originally called “The Big Thing” and “Chicago Transit Authority”
until threatened legal action by that city’s mass transit bureaucracy force a
shortening of the name to simply “Chicago.”
They were a rock band with horns, a trombone, sax, and trumpet, that
brought a bright, brassy sound to the radio.
I was a brass player, so naturally they appealed to me. Those two bands were at the top of my charts
from adolescence through almost early middle age. I had gone to see Chicago when they were
touring with the Beach Boys round 1975, but hadn’t been back since. I had never seen the Doobies on stage. So it was with great anticipation that we
entered Ak Chin Pavilion that evening.
It’s Arizona, and it’s summer, but when the sun goes
down, the air cools to a far more comfortable level. A fresh breeze kept things pleasant. We paid $24 each for a spot on the grass
towards the back of the Pavilion. I
couldn’t help but think that back in 1975, that same amount would have gotten
us within sweat-slingin’ distance of the stage.
For this show, those seats were in the $700 range. How things have changed….
The Doobies opened and gave a great performance,
playing all of the hits from their great career. Their slow, southern ballad “Black Water” got
the entire audience singing along.
Chicago came on about 9 pm, and again, played the memories from my
youth. It was a great show, one that
peeled back the years for both of us.
While we were quite a ways back from the stage, the
multi-story HD video screens gave us the close-ups we otherwise wouldn’t have
gotten. In my mind, I remember them in
their relative youth. Now, I could see
how the years had piled up. It was a
stark reminder that these musicians, my social muse of youth, were now between
68 and 73 years old. And yet, instead of
putting around a golf course somewhere, here they were energetically playing
rock and roll for the masses.
It’s quite a statement actually. We left the show around 11 pm, because we
were very sleepy and for Cheryl, Monday was a work day. Plus, our temporary home for this gig was
over an hour away. The guys were still
up there, wailing away. This is not
something they have to do. Chicago has
sold over 100 million records over the 50 years of their career, the Doobies a
hit less at over 40 million, so they’re not exactly hurting for cash. They do this tour, which can only be
described as “grinding,” because they want to do this. Their dream as youngsters was to be rock stars. And despite their geriatricism, they are
living that dream.
Age is catching up.
Several original members have died, others have taken time off for
treatment of conditions endemic to old age.
But despite the innate challenges, it’s clear they absolutely love what
they do, so why stop?
I’m a relative youngster at 10 years their junior, but
believe me, when talking about a life-long passion driving them their life
long, I get it. For them, the best way
to handle retirement was…not to retire.
It’s a beautiful thing.
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