Rarely do I buttonhole people and tell them they just have to see something or read something. Here is one of those rare times: if the word Chicago means anything more to you than the name of a city in Illinois, then you must watch The Last Band on Stage.

For me, the band Chicago was the soundtrack of my youth. I remember sitting on the twin bed in the tiny bedroom of my best friend in high school listening to a record of the new band she had recently discovered. The band was Chicago and the song was Does Anyone Really Know What Time It is?

The song was not exactly new, neither was the band, but they were new to us. My friend had gotten her first record player and had a part-time job and could finally afford to buy a few records. From then on, for me, Chicago played in the background of my high school years and, well, ever since.

Other friends liked the Beatles, but I liked (and still like) the energy, as well as the range and diversity of sound in all of Chicago’s music. Liking it also helped a young woman (me) growing up in a suburb of Atlanta, awash in the grating twanging of classic country music via the radio, and desperate for glimpses and sounds of other horizons go on to like Santana, Earth, Wind & Fire, jazz, big band music, even classical, and much, much more.

Back to the documentary, which the pandemic made possible in a backhand kind of way: Chicago stopped touring for the first time in 55 years in March 2020 but held itself together and is now back on tour. That is the story the documentary tells, and it was fantastic to witness the story and to cherish the memories the music of Chicago has given me.