BETHLEHEM, Pa. — Compare it to riding the bus on a class trip. Everyone's quiet at first. Polite, even.
But as the miles roll by, someone starts to sing a song. A little further along, a few join in. Then a few more. And by the end of the ride, everyone is singing.
That's what it was like to be in the audience at the nearly sold-out Chicago show Tuesday night at Musikfest's main Steel Stage.

The first of two sets opened with an energetic instrumental of unmistakable percussion and horns, before heading into "Dialogue (Part I & II)," whetting the appetite of the crowd, whose average age might have been around 61. Very few youngsters were in the crowd.
"People will come up to me after a show and say, 'Jimmy, we grew up with this music. And I say, 'So did I.'"Chicago founding member and horn arranger James Pankow
"People will come up to me after a show and say, 'Jimmy, we grew up with this music,'" founding member and horn arranger James Pankow said later in the set, which drew a "Yes sir!" from a woman in the audience.
"And I say, 'So did I,'" Pankow said, which raised a group chuckle from the audience.
"Questions 67 and 68" followed, and then came what seemed to be the spark that lit at least part of the crowd enough to react audibly — the 16-count conga intro and then before, Oh yes, there it was, that lead tenor vocal by Neil Donell, who stepped into the band in 2018 replacing Peter Cetera, Jason Scheff and Jeff Coffey, who each have provided the ballad-worthy tones.
"The feeling was clear, clear as a blue sky on a Sunday/When everything was you, woo-woo/'Cuz no one made me feel the way I felt with you, whoa-whoa/Call on me 'cause," Donell sang on "Call Me," with the crowd joining him at the familiar chorus.
"I love you, you know I do, you love me too."
I'm not swooning, you are. Blissville, here we come.
‘We're still heeeeere'
The crowd sat glued, respectfully, to every word of every song that followed, including "(I've Been) Searching So Long," the tribal-sounding "Mongonucleosis," mellow "If You Leave Me Now" and "Make Me Smile," which was loaded with the fun and full-bodied staccato at, "Tell me you will stay, make me smile."
Until, that is, when founding member and trumpeter Lee Loughnane invited everybody to stand up and dance to the band's rendition of Jackie Wilson's "(Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher."
"We are truly blessed. It's kept us out of jail for 57 years."Chicago founding member and horn arranger James Pankow
They obliged, clapping and whooping it up, with a few couples even taking to the center aisle to dance.
Founding member, horn player and arranger James Pankow at one point, though, told a little story.
"We all piled into the car and headed for Los Angeles," Pankow said. "As it turned out, we got a deal with Columbia Records.

"We went to New York City and began recording the first album, 'Chicago Transit Authority.' [Cue the cheering crowd]. "We were just a bunch of very frightened young men knowing this was going on tape forever.
"But we got to thinking, maybe we'll get lucky and get one or two albums out of this." The crowd laughed.
"We're still heeeeere," Pankow yelled to cheers.
"And you know what's even better than that? You are still here," he said, pointing to the crowd, who cheered even louder.
"And we're so thankful for that. We could not have done this without you. What a journey this has been. to be able to make a living, putting food on the table, and putting smiles on so many faces.
"We are truly blessed. It's kept us out of jail for 57 years."
The full house in unison
If the crowd wasn't completely nostalgic by then, barring the sweet lady who left on a stretcher fully alert and talking — hopefully just heat exhaustion, though it wasn't sweltering for the most part — "Color My World" surely entranced at that point.
It certainly didn't matter that Donell emphasized his phrasing a bit differently here and there throughout the show than the way pop radio has drilled into our memories all these years.
He was on key and holding out notes much to fans' delight, even getting in some impressive vibrato in all the right places.

"Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is" was as good as ever, followed by "Hard Habit to Break" with its buildup of emotional brass and driving percussion.
And then "You're the Inspiration," the full house all in unison.
"I'm A Man," by the Spencer David Group, sounded as if it were Chicago's own.
The band was so tight and jazzy on the rhythm and horns, which changed tempos with the classics "Just You 'n' Me," and "Hard to Say I'm Sorry." Guitarist and vocalist Eric Baines crushed, among others, vocals on "Saturday in the Park," with the crowd singing with him good and loud.

Chicago born and raised saxophonist Ray Herrmann moved around comfortably all over the stage in his ninth year after stepping in full-time for Walter Parazaider, who became unable to play due to health issues, dueling and changing stage spots with Pankow and Loughnane, who rocked a dancing horn line throughout the show.
Percussionists Walfredo Reyes and Ramon "Ray" Yslas performed separately yet together an eclectic drum solo that put the crowd on its feet cheering, because what else do you do when world-class rhythm-makers like these boast "stars I've played and/or toured with" lists that include Ricky Martin, David Sanborn, Carlos Santana, Stevie Nicks, Jackson Browne and Steve Winwood, to name just a few.


In the end, it was the perfect summer evening with the quintessential American band. Chicago was every bit what its many awards and accolades boast: the first American rock band to chart Top 40 albums in six consecutive decades, 25 of those being certified platinum; selling over 100 million records, 21 Top 10 singles, five consecutive number one albums, 11 Number One singles and five Gold singles, and a total 48 Gold and platinum awards.
American rock royalty, who, this past April, had their debut album, Chicago Transit Authority, inducted into The National Recording Registry of the Library of Congress.
Most of the crowd stayed til the end, perhaps wanting the night to never end, like a school dance, with one man saying, "That was good music. That was high school right there."