Terry Kath

One of the most influential yet underrated guitarists of all time, Terry Alan Kath was born on January 31, 1946 in Chicago, Ill. Musical practically from birth, Kath taught himself bass, drums, and guitar, and made the rounds in local bands, impressing everyone he met. Childhood friends included Walter Parazaider, Danny Seraphine and Jim Guercio. In early 1967, Parazaider, Kath, and Seraphine formed the nucleus of what would eventually become Chicago. A true innovator, Kath experimented endlessly with amps, guitars and equipment. While he possessed a rudimentary awareness of musical composition, he mostly just played by ear. Other band members were in awe of his ability to hear something once and play it back. Legend has it that Jimi Hendrix, with whom Chicago toured in the early days, idolized Kath, telling Parazaider, "Your guitar player is better than me". Listening to Kath's early recorded soloing on such tunes as "South California Purples", "Poem '58", "Listen" and "25 or 6 to 4", you'd be hard pressed to say Hendrix was wrong. Chicago's producer Guercio has said that Kath could have been a monster as a solo artist. That Kath never received the recognition due him as a guitar hero is old news now, but it irked him during his lifetime. Band-mate James Pankow recalls a tour in England where Kath publicly gave the crowd the finger for comparing him unfavorably to noted greats like Eric Clapton and Page. Listening today, aficionados are amazed at Kath's picking and, while a bit dependent upon the wah-pedal, his creativity is still dazzling. He was capable of handling all genres, including jazz, country, metal, blues, and flat-out rock. He played a variety of guitars in his career, at one point owning nearly 20 of them. Early Chicago albums feature him on a Gibson SG and a Fender Stratocaster. Around 1972, he began playing a specially decorated Fender Telecaster as his main rig. As a composer, Kath was much more hit than miss. Though Chicago never scored on the charts with a Kath single, the tunes he wrote were generally killer. Some, like "O Thank You, Great Spirit" and "Take It on Uptown" rival anything Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton or Page ever came up with. And Kath sang rings around them all. Blessed with a soulful, husky voice, Kath belted and whooped his way through such classics as "Make Me Smile" while possessing the ability to go smooth when the need arose ("Wishing You Were Here", "Colour My World", "Brand New Love Affair, Part 1"). In his personal life, Kath reportedly sensed that he wouldn't live long (he died a few days before reaching 32). He has been famously described as down-to-earth and a great guy, but a risk-taker. It's interesting to note that all Chicago band-mates, from James Pankow to Robert Lamm to Peter Cetera, describe themselves as having been very close to Terry (Lamm has called him his best friend). This indicates that Kath could make himself comfortable with a variety of personalities. Kath was into fast cars, motorcycles and guns. He was also into a variety of drugs, though reports indicate he wasn't addicted. He loved to eat and fought a constant battle with his waistline (until he seemingly gave up near the end of his life, growing truly fat). He experimented with a wide variety of hairstyles and facial hair throughout his career and had a fondness for wearing professional hockey (NHL and WHL) team jerseys. He was 28 when he married 19-year-old Camelia Lynne Ortiz in 1974; they had a daughter, Michelle, in 1976. Kath's death on January 23, 1978 is a watershed in rock history, but some confusion remains about what actually happened to him. Contemporaneous newspaper reports indicate that he accidentally shot himself with a 9mm automatic at roadie Don Johnson's house after a party in front of Camelia. Later interviews with band members such as James Pankow indicate that Kath was alone with Johnson at the kitchen table and no party had taken place. Supposedly, Kath was displaying the gun when Johnson told him to be careful. Kath then is supposed to have put the gun to his head, saying either, "Don't worry, it's not loaded, see?" or, "What do you think I'm gonna do, shoot myself?" before pulling the trigger. Whatever actually happened, Kath's death doesn't seem to have been a suicide, in spite of Pankow's acknowledgment that Kath had been "bumming" over a fight with Camelia (or Cetera's assertion that Kath was unhappy in Chicago and would have been the first to leave had he lived). In any case, Kath is sorely missed. Chicago has carried on and adding Bill Champlin in 1981 certainly improved things, but the contributions Terry Kath made to the group and to rock music in general can't be denied.