Like many children of the 80s, I still harbor a strong sentimental attachment to some of the tunes that might make others groan. Before I was old enough to start developing musical tastes of my own, my mom raised me on a steady diet of light rock, less talk. (No, you just sang the KOIT jingle in your head!) I think my personal trifecta from those days is (in no particular order): Billy Joel, Lionel Richie (with The Commodores and solo), and Peter Cetera (with Chicago but especially solo). At least for me, there is something about the music I loved as a kid that can have the power to invoke a true sense of joy that can be hard to find anywhere else.
Last month, my mom won a pair of tickets to see REO Speedwagon and Chicago, and she asked me to go with her. I thought it would be a blast, but I admit I was disappointed at the prospect of seeing Chicago sans Cetera. Between sets, I decided I should look to see if he was touring on his own. Much to my delight, not only was he currently touring, but I found tickets that were a mere two weeks away, in San Jose. Before I could buy them, though, Chicago took the stage, and I put my phone away to enjoy what turned out to be a truly fantastic performance.
The next day, I returned to my ticketing site of choice to buy tickets, and discovered I’d overlooked a second date the night before: this one was a month away, rather than two weeks, and I’d have to schlep out to the Sacramento area in the dead of the summer, but instead of just being Cetera solo, it also boasted Richard Marx on the bill. Though this is an artist my mother enjoys as much as I do, he wasn’t an heirloom: Richard Marx is an artist I learned to love all on my own, from the late 80s on. I bought tickets in a matter of moments and then started counting down the days until I could get myself out to Thunder Valley Casino on Friday the 13th (of July).
As the 7 o’clock hour rolled around (and then came and went), it was 95° in the shade and I was becoming increasingly cranky waiting for the magic to begin. And then suddenly there was Richard Marx onstage, starting the show off with “Endless Summer Nights,” “Take This Heart,” and “Satisfied.” I have to say, I was quickly taken aback by how handsome the man is. I honestly can’t remember a time in my life that I didn’t enjoy his music, but while I’m sure he was a heartthrob to some, I never noticed his looks when I was younger. He’s married, so I respectfully made a mental note and then went back to enjoying the show. When Marx asked the crowd how they were doing, he noted the presence of ever-moving handheld fans provided by the casino, punnily commenting, “I’ve got so many fans here tonight!” Apparently, someone remarked to him that it was her seventeenth Richard Marx show, to which Marx said, “holy shit!”
“Does anyone here feel like singing?” Marx asked the audience. “I’m gonna do that thing where I sing to you and you sing it back to me. Just pretend you’re on The Voice or some shit.” After teaching the crowd the part he wanted them to sing, Marx continued, “damn. I gotta be honest. I love all audiences, but you guys… Seriously, I would turn my chair around for you guys right now. BAD ASS!” I laughed at this, but mostly because he’s very personable, and I found him charming. Eventually he finished “Satisfied” by replying to shouts of adoration, “I love you too! I love you too! I love you too but, I do feel the need to see other people.”
Marx announced that he was happy to see “you guys,” and happy to be there with his old friend Peter Cetera, who he said had “made a deal with some kind of devil, cause he looks exactly the same… And speaking of looking exactly the same…” He used this intro to begin a song from the 90s when he had a “big fluffy mullet,” which was “Angelia.” Before beginning the next song, he started with an explanation: “Now we’ve come to the song that I wrote about a little town in Nebraska about a girl that got murdered. It’s the feel-good song of the night… of the summer! Cause who doesn’t wanna party to a song about a girl who got murdered in Nebraska?” I promise, his humor is on point in person, and not as off-color as it might read on page. The song, of course, was the haunting “Hazard,” and I had worried he might not do it live, so I was excited to hear it. Also, this little intro treated me to his million dollar smile and fantastic sense of humor, which were both welcome surprises.
The band took a break, leaving Marx alone on the stage, saying he wanted “a little alone time,” an “intimate moment or two.” This prompted him to explain just how friendly he had found the locals to be. He told a story of arriving at the casino with his wife, and they had been starving. The cafe they stopped at was one of those cafeteria-style places where you go through the line with a tray and take what you want and pay a cashier at the end. His wife snagged a table while Marx paid, but there was some trouble with his credit card. He said he put the card in the chip reader, which promptly beeped at him. “It’s not your card,” the “lovely young woman” insisted. According to Marx, she then looked him “right in the eye” and asked him, “could I get you to pull it out and slide it back in again?” at which point he started to wonder if his wife was okay with this. “So, yeah, they’re really friendly here.”
Next came two back-to-back #1s, the first of which Marx joked was his first #1 “back in 1911,” and the second from the mid-90s. “All I ask is if any of you know either of these songs, please, whatever you do, don’t join in, cause you’re gonna ruin it.” He then proceeded to start Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer,” but after the first line he stopped, laughed, and said, “oh shut up, you know it’s not that!” and began “Hold on to the Night,” followed by “Now and Forever,” which included an impressive high note. It was one of the high points of his whole set. “This is my favorite part of the show every night,” Marx said, stating that the crowd would “sort of kind of get to meet my sons,” who he called the “Marx brothers.” He explained that all three of his sons were musicians, and so they had gone into the studio and recorded a new version of one of his songs with all of them as the band and singing with him, and they played the video as Marx sang the lead. The song, one of only two I didn’t already know in his entire set, was “When You Loved Me.” The only note I took about this particular song was the word “RAD,” because it was as nice moment, and I’d honestly be down to see a new Marx family band. (He also described having heard on the radio, and how rather than hearing himself leading into Bette Midler’s “Wind Beneath My Wings” on an easy listening station, that day he’d been psyched to hear himself “sandwiched” between Rihanna and Lady Gaga.)
The band returned, and Marx announced that they were going to play a couple more songs. “I’m pretty sure you will know them, but you may not know that I had anything to do with them, because I didn’t sing them. I’ve done a bunch of that over the past 94 years with and for other artists.” The first was one he’d written and produced for *NSYNC, which was “This I Promise You,” and I will admit to having been a pretty big *NSYNC fan in their day. Even so, Marx’s version was lovely, and he paired it with a great story about his experience recording it with the band in the height of their heyday, and being so excited when one of the many young, attractive ladies stalking the band at the studio recognized him. He was so flattered that she knew who he was, and was visibly excited to be meeting him, until she cried, “my mom loves you!” and brought him back down to size.
Next was a song he wrote for Keith Urban, which became a #1. Marx remarked that it was his favorite of the songs he’d done with Urban; it was the other song I didn’t know of Marx’s set, a song called “Long Hot Summer.” Suffice it to say it was appropriate for the night. Next Marx made a return to “the mullet days,” but not without pausing to introduce the members of his band. “We make a lot of noise for a few guys. Damn!” They took the crowd back to 1987 then with “Should’ve Known Better,” and then another from the “same album, same year, but actually my favorite song I’ve ever written if for no other reason than that this is the song that introduced us to one another back in 1987.” The song was “Don’t Mean Nothing,” and concluded with a gorgeous a cappella ending. Marx sat at a piano then to conclude with “Right Here Waiting,” which was everything I could have ever wanted it to be live and then some, especially with a lovely crowd chorus singalong.
Richard Marx could have played for another three hours if he had the material, and I would have happily listened. Sadly, there wasn’t much more, but that also meant that he hadn’t excluded a single song I wanted to hear. In between acts I ran out to the beer garden for a drink and overheard someone complaining, “can you believe this is going to be a four hour concert?!” I shook my head, thinking people will always find something to complain about. I, on the other hand, was thrilled to have had a glorious first-half of the show, and hurried back to my seat in anticipation of the headliner.
After what seemed like an eternity (remember, I’ve been a fan for 30+ years and this is the first time I’ve seen this man) but in reality was a pretty quick turnaround, the band appeared on stage and began “Restless Heart.” The first thing I noticed was how fantastic Cetera sounds live. If anything, he might even sound better live than recorded, but either way it was impressive: his voice is seriously flawless. “Baby, What a Big Surprise” came next, and I noted then that Peter Cetera is 73 years old, but could easily be one of Marx’s contemporaries. He looks, moves, and sounds like he’s 15-20 years younger than he is. Also, I noted (and literally not for the only time of the night) that he has swagger. I can’t even describe what it is that makes me say that, but I said it several times that night. He carries himself with such a confidence, and the way he moves (not exactly dancing, but he just floats across the stage and moves to the music) is something you don’t see every day. He’s a born performer, and I guess it makes sense: he was in Chicago before I was born, he’s been doing this forever. He’s a living legend, if you ask me.
“Awwww yes!” Cetera remarked to the crowd, obviously as excited to be there as the rest of us were. “One Good Woman” came next, and then Cetera addressed the “rowdy crowd,” noting that it was 97° and “you never think people will come out in the heat. Guess you guys are crazy enough!” He then went on to acknowledge that he had lots of solo songs and lots with Chicago, but that that night he wanted to perform material from his “new jazz album,” and began singing “New York, New York” jokingly. Thankfully, anyone who was present hoping to hear as many of his hits (with Chicago and solo) would not be disappointed. He invited back-up singer Tania Hancheroff to join him for “After All,” which he had originally recorded with Cher. Tania had a lovely voice, and when they finished, Cetera insisted, “we don’t need Cher!” Up next was another #1 from his Chicago days, “Love Me Tomorrow.”
Cetera talked about life in Chicago at the beginning of a time with music videos. “To be honest, they were really crap. When they first started, you’d just stand there and lip sync. Then, they started adding storylines… if you wanna YouTube this video, I think it’s still on there. It’s in black and white, and it’s still a great video. Spoiler alert: I lived at the end of this one!” The song was “Stay the Night,” and while I found it easily on YouTube, it’s not in black and white anymore…it looks like someone has gone back to remaster/recolor it. “So, a while back, I was asked to write a song for a movie,” Cetera began. “They ended up not using it. A few weeks later, it ended up being used for a different movie, and I went to the Academy Awards with this one…” The song, of course, was “Glory of Love,” which many know from The Karate Kid Part II, but the movie he referred to, for which it was written, was actually Rocky IV.
“Here’s another one I wrote a few years ago…” Cetera introduced. Having apparently given the crowd a sufficient once-over, Cetera added that, “none of the women were born yet, I’m afraid. All these men, though… what are all these old men doing with all these beautiful women?!” The song “If You Leave Me Now,” proved his point, at least for me: it was written in 1976, and I was indeed not yet born. Still, it’s never kept me from loving the song, and I caught myself grinning from ear to ear, not for the first (or last) time that night. The crowd singalong during the chorus was perfect, too. The next song began with Cetera explaining that he’d been asked to write a song “years ago” for Kenny Rogers, but that “by the time I gave it to him, he didn’t wanna do it. Oh well. Kenny, you should’ve done the song.” It was “You’re the Inspiration,” another of Cetera’s more massive hits. I for one am glad that Rogers passed, because it would have become an entirely different song, and I love it as it is.
“What an awesome crowd!” Cetera gushed, stopping to give a heartfelt thanks to the crew who “make it easier on us, even the guys sellin’ the beer!” He then introduced the band, the Bad Daddies, telling an anecdote about a performance they did in Chile where they were announced as “Los Papis Malo.” Cetera then vacated the stage to give his backup band and singers a chance to shine, first with Hancheroff singing “Oh Darlin’,” followed by Chris Rodriguez singing “Come Together.” At the close of the latter, Cetera returned to the stage, standing serenely with his hands folded, just listening and enjoying the intro to the next song, which was “Next Time I Fall” with Hancheroff singing Amy Grant’s part.
“We’re gonna close with a couple of songs. This next one is the last #1 I had with Chicago. I sang it with Bill Champlin.” The song was “Hard Habit to Break,” which is my personal favorite Chicago song, and it didn’t disappoint. “If you remember this one, sing along,” Cetera invited as he began the final song of the regular set, which was “Hard to Say I’m Sorry” with “Get Away” mixed into the end. Suddenly it was over, and while there was only one song I still wanted Cetera to do, I wasn’t ready for it to be over. Thankfully, he and the band materialized back on stage in a matter of mere moments for a quick encore of “Feeling Stronger Every Day” and then “25 or 6 to 4.” With a quick “you guys have been awesome, thank you!” he was gone as quickly as he had appeared.
To say that this night crossed two major items off my concert bucket list would be an understatement. Beyond that, it reminded me how awesome Richard Marx is, and also fulfilled a lifelong dream of seeing Peter Cetera live. I was far from ready to leave the lovely high of the past several hours, but I floated back to my car in a fog, 90° at 11pm or not. Between sets, I heard more than one person wondering aloud why Marx was “the opener,” but the reason is simple: both of these dudes are bloody brilliant in their own right, so it really doesn’t matter who plays first. Honestly, I would’ve been stoked to see either of them on his own, but put them together and all I care about is getting there. And I’ll be looking for future chances to do it all over again, because a night like this could be a hard habit to break. Until the very next time I can see either (or both!) of these stellar performers again, I’ll be right here waiting.
