“And we back.”

Chance the Rapper’s casual delivery of that seemingly innocuous lyric early in his show Friday at a near-capacity Huntington Bank Pavilion on Northerly Island disguised its urgent symbolism and intent. Namely, his return and reboot, and an attempt to reclaim a career that went sideways nearly as quickly as it skyrocketed.

The Chicago native mostly succeeded despite enduring awkward bumps and disjointed pacing. He emphasized introspection over celebration and action over passivity. Not that he didn’t uncork fun and surprises. Fellow locals and Chance collaborators BabyChiefDoit, Vic Mensa, Jamila Woods and Do or Die joined the rapper to deliver parts of songs they originally recorded with him in the studio.

Their presence underlined principal themes that coursed throughout the 100-minute set: The pride Chance takes in being from Chicago and the weight he places on the city’s history, and how both relate to the Black experience in America. Though he never mentioned a political party or leader by name, Chance repeatedly drew attention to the moment at hand and the need for liberation. He stressed the crucial “ground zero” role of Chicago, highlighted the importance of togetherness, and, during a volatile “Drapetomania,” twice shouted the phrase “(Expletive) ICE” as the words ballooned on a screen behind him.

Political, outspoken, aggressive: Those traits comprised only part of the evolution of the 32-year-old born Chancelor Bennett, who gave shout-outs to the recently deceased revolutionary Assata Shakur and activist Angela Davis. Both figures paralleled Black threads that Chance wove into the overall arc. His approach circled back to remarks he made in August 2023 at the United Center — his last area date connected to a proper tour — regarding his evolution away from the person who created “Acid Rap” (2013), its 10th anniversary having anchored that concert.

That event ended with happy tears and Chance embracing his family. In the 26 months since, his deeper progression into adulthood continued, including a divorce. But it didn’t shake his belief in humankind or trigger the bitterness that typically accompanies life-altering fissures. Chance expressed the kinds of uncertainties, vulnerabilities and skepticism that arise as one confronts challenges that are common as youthfulness ebbs. Still, he remained unwaveringly optimistic and charitable — details elucidated in everything from his narratives to his gratitude to the spiritual overtones in his music.

Bruised, albeit healing, down but not out, chided yet smarter: Chance telescoped these attributes in buoyant songs such as “Work Out” and a fiery reading of the autobiographical “Star Side Intro,” the latter a bold acknowledgement of accomplishments, missteps and plans on which the past, present and future collide.

“Where’s your viewpoint?” he demanded, aiming the question at himself. It looks like he uncovered intriguing answers, particularly after using his hometown as a testing laboratory during the last year and a half.

In 2024, he headlined two shows at Ramova Theatre, the Bridgeport venue he co-owns. On New Year’s Eve, he appeared during the NHL Classic at Wrigley Field. He performed in June at Lyrical Lemonade Summer Smash, entertained at Soldier Field in July after a Chicago Fire FC match, crashed Lollapalooza with a short surprise set and guested at Rate Field during a Savannah Bananas game days later.

That blitz led up to the recent release of “Star Line.” Chance’s first LP in six years doubles as a concerted effort to move beyond a turbulent period in which little went right for an artist who practically did no wrong after he debuted in the early 2010s. Chance enjoyed near-universal critical praise and relished his role as a friend to the Obamas. Then, the bottom fell out, one head-scratching decision at a time.

In 2018, Chance defended former mentor Kanye West’s support of President Trump before reversing course. The staunchly independent rapper helped create television ads for junk food and coached in the manufactured competition series “The Voice.” His worst offense to fans? Chance issued “The Big Day” (2019), a concept record about his wedding and then-wife that threatened to turn him into a parody.

Wisely, Chance bypassed tracks from that project. He eschewed most of the past, focusing on “Star Line” and demonstrating an innate capacity to swerve from norms. Wearing an all-black outfit and trucker hat, Chance alternated between hyperactive and sedate, decelerating from in-the-red excitability to chill-out calm in a flash. Supported by keyboardist-programmer Peter Cottontale, the animated rapper infused wordplay with deft phrasing, timing and tone changes. He maintained rhythmic poise and jazz-inspired fluidity, whether rhyming dense, rapid-fire verses or stretching syllables on loose, breezy lines.

The South Side native sang nearly as much as he rapped, his voice limited in depth though shot through with empathy and candor. Imperfections — off-key highs, a do-over following an uneven start to “Back to the Go,” a handful of word misses made obvious by lyrics projected on a visual backdrop — amplified his groundedness and relatability. At one juncture, he talked about encountering fans at grocery and retail stores, listening to their feedback and appreciating their honesty.

In addition to energy and skills, Chance’s biggest asset is his approachability. He seldom flexed his ego. He kept the production elements relatively simple. He boasted in cerebral ways that reinforced others’ self-esteem and established connections. He reminded everyone to respect their elders, and for men to care for women in their lives.

Chance operated as liaison, reporter, confidant, preacher, unifier, crusader and guide. Despite acknowledging harsh urban realities on the woozy “Paranoia” and minimalist “Summer Friends,” he functioned as a Chicago booster who understood the pulse of neighborhoods whose arteries extend miles away from the Loop — the locales frequently forgotten by well-off corporations and residents alike, but which nonetheless teem with generations-spanning ties, bootstrap businesses, front-porch storytelling traditions and vivid soulfulness.

They were the epicenter for the potent “No More Old Men,” a state-of-affairs update on community and concern heightened by Woods’ soft, melodic vocal accompaniment. Chance delved into “four Black commandments” involving health, home, family and got-other’s-back support, matters that carried into the protective sincerity of “Gun in Yo Purse,” clever double entendres of “Tree” and conversational warmth of a stripped-down “Same Drugs.”

Holding little back, Chance dictated hyper-literate thoughts to churches (“Letters”), fallen friends (“Link Me in the Future”) and himself (“Pretty”), always pulling faith out of the fire. He ran transitional video snippets depicting decades-old footage of people expounding on topics illustrative of the broader messages he wished to communicate. However, they often succumbed to technical difficulties that both sewed confusion and killed momentum. Another shortcoming: The temporary installation of a screened-in cube in which an obscured Chance performed. Whatever its intended effect, the prop failed.

Akin to many artists trying to rebound from a severe miscalculation, to say nothing of building on an existing body of work, Chance faced polite albeit temperate reactions when playing new material. Established favorites such as “No Problem” and “I Might Need Security” attracted huge responses, and didn’t require him pumping up the crowd on a regular basis.

At one point, Chance even asked the audience if it was a good show. The condensed answer: Solid and inspired, though never explosive or transcendent. Yet filled with love, and wise pointers about pursuing a more rewarding, compassionate existence. In 2025 America, that’s plenty good enough.

Bob Gendron is a freelance critic.

Setlist from Huntington Bank Pavilion on Northerly Island on Oct. 10:
“Star Side Intro”
“Ride”
“Tree”
“Work Out”
“Burn Ya Block”
“Drapetomania”
“Paranoia”
“Summer Friends”
“I Might Need Security”
“Back to the Go”
“Gun in Yo Purse”
“Pretty”
“Link Me in the Future”
“No More Old Men”
“No Problem”
“All Night”
“Blessings”
“Juke Jam”
“Letters”
“Speed of Light”
“Same Drugs”
“Speed of Love”

https://www.chicagotribune.com/2025/10/11/review-chance-rapper-we-back-tour/