In the week The Eagles release their first album in 28 years, Seán Flynnsees a gig by the troubled band who have provided the soundtrack to his and many others' lives.
The Indigo Music Club, O2 Arena, London
Wednesday, October 31st 2007
There are only 1,500 of us gathered in this intimate venue inside what used to be called the Millennium Dome. It is what one might call a demanding, sceptical audience. Yes, there is a sprinkling of competition winners from Norway and Switzerland and the UK, but these are heavily outnumbered by a large flock of music industry executives and music journalists. There is a certain world-weariness about a lot of these guys; a sense they've been there and done that. But, by the final encore, as Don Henley's voice soars high on Desperado, the entire crowd are on their feet, cheering and hollering.
During Hotel California, the competition winner from Norway tells me how The Eagles have provided the soundtrack to her life. I tell her I know exactly what she means. It is my fifth time to see The Eagles live but it is also the first concert since 1975 - 32 years ago - that I have actually enjoyed.
Tonight, to everyone's surprise, The Eagle, derided as the kings of middle-aged corporate rock, seem fresh and re-invigorated.
It helps that some of the new material is strong and that the comeback album, Long Road Out of Eden, sits on top of the UK album chart. The good vibe - as they called it in the 1970s - is reinforced by the peaceful, easy feeling between lead vocalists Don Henley and Glenn Frey, often cast as the "best of enemies" because of their long-term feuding.
As they leave the stage, some band members are punching the air, relieved that the gig has been such a triumph. To everyone's surprise, the old warhorses have rekindled the magic from somewhere back in the day.
Crawdaddy, Dublin,
October 10th 2007
On a cold Wednesday night, only a couple of hundred people have gathered to see Californian troubadour John David Souther, the same JD Souther who co-wrote many of The Eagles' most famous tracks, including New Kid in Town and Best of My Love. Souther opted out of The Eagles, choosing to concentrate on a solo career which flickered briefly but never burned. Being on the cusp of mega-stardom must have been a bittersweet experience.
And tonight he is in philosophical mode. He apologises that the rest of The Eagles are not here tonight. "But look on the bright side - you did not pay 300 bucks for a ticket and you not have to walk three miles back to your car."
His comments betray that certain unease felt by Eagles fans about what the band has become since reuniting for the Hell Freezes Over tour in 1994. Sixteen years earlier, Henley had famously said he would only consider a reunion with Frey and the rest when hell froze over.
A book by ex-Eagles guitarist Don Felder - My Life In The Eagles, published this week - is a depressing account of how rival egos, combustible personalities and mountains of cocaine corroded the peaceful, easy feeling. The band split in 1980, vowing never to return to the scene of the crime.
But, over time, the ice began to thaw. Hell eventually froze over when the solo careers of both Henley and Frey began to stagnate and when the accountants came calling.
The Eagles were, perhaps, the first band to trade so strongly on their back catalogue. It did not matter that there were only one or two new songs on Hell Freezes Over; their fan base - now in their 30s and 40s - would happily roll up as the band rolled out the hits of their youth. Nostalgia was big business. And The Eagles Inc was very big business indeed.
Since 1995, there has a series of world tours, all crashing box-office records as the juggernaut crossed continents and rolled on.
By the time The Eagles reached Lansdowne Road for the Farewell 1 tour last summer, the routine was beginning to wear thin. The band, then barely on speaking terms, coasted through an indifferent set and barely acknowledged their audience as more dollars were stuffed into the satchel. Next day, some concert-goers rang Joe Duffy's Liveline to air their grievances.
The classic songs were still wonderful but The Eagles were, suddenly, very uncool indeed.
Wembley Stadium,
London July 1975
The sun is blazing strongly over the crusty old stadium as The Eagles - with their cheesecloth shirts and their faded blue jeans - crank out the muscular intro of One of These Nights. There are 100,000 fans in the stadium on this glorious Saturday but few - except the cognoscenti from Dublin and a straggle of others - even recognise the troubadours from California.
The Eagles are low down on the pecking order, fourth on a bill which also includes Elton John, The Beach Boys and Rufus featuring Chaka Khan. But for a small knot of us - all schoolfriends at the Christian Brothers in Ballygall, Dublin - The Eagles are the main attraction. We have travelled to London by boat and train via Holyhead and stayed in a rickety, run-down b&b. Despite the interminable journey and the spartan accommodation, it is the most exciting day of our young lives.
In this pre-punk era, The Eagles are the coolest band on the planet. Those songs about the easy sunshine, the cheatin' women and the dusty roads have a special resonance with a group of 15-year-olds back in damp and dilapidated Dublin. The band and their loose, laconic way are the perfect counterpoint to the buttoned-up, repressed Dublin of the late 1970s.
After that glorious day in London, The Eagles went on to become the biggest rock band in the world. Their Greatest Hits 1971-75 is the best-selling album of all time, with sales of about 40 million (the 1975 version sold 29 million, and the 1982 version, containing later hits, sold a further 11 million). The Eagles are the only recording artists in musical history to have three albums which have each sold more than 10 million copies.
For all this dizzying success, there are few acts which divide critics and fellow musicians as much as The Eagles. There are few bands who are more adored. There are few bands who are more despised. One American punk rock band, The Dead Kennedys, recorded a track which looked forward eagerly to the demise of Don Henley and the whole lot of them. Gram Parsons, the godfather of country rock, dismissed the band's music as bubblegum pop. For others, some Henley/Frey songs - Hotel California and Desperado in particular - bear comparison with the best of Lennon and McCartney.
All that can be said is that the band's output during those halcyon days in the 1970s still continues to cast a long shadow. Today, the sound of The Eagles finds an echo in the music of very fashionable acts such as Wilco and Ryan Adams.
The Indigo Music Club
Wednesday night
The man from the record company tells me about the slogan for the new album: "Do you remember when music sounded this good?" The slogan plays on how many Eagles fans feel themselves to be cut adrift from today's popular music, dominated by dance acts, manufactured groups and reality TV winners.
Many of those who will buy the new Eagles album have probably long since lost the habit of visiting record stores or chasing up new songs. The days when they stopped the car and sat listening to some great new song bursting out of the speakers has long passed. They like classic, old-fashioned songs with good melodies and good lyrics.
For this group, the new album will be like returning to a long-lost friend. There is no track here that stands comparison with the very best of The Eagles, but there are several very good songs. What is remarkable is how the album sounds like something The Eagles could have recorded in the mid-1970s. And the harmonies are still glorious.
The first single from the album, How Long, was written by the band's old chum, JD Souther, in 1972. On the opening track, the environmental lament No More Walks in the Woods, the band sing in soaring a capella harmony. The 10-minute long title track has the epic sweep of Hotel California and the same wistful lament for the loss of innocence. It is evident from the band's sunny demeanour tonight that they are proud of the latest addition. They are the first of the big nostalgia acts to enjoy fresh success with new songs. By comparison, the likes of The Rolling Stones and The Police are content to live off past glories.
On Wednesday night, The Eagles put all that corporate rock stuff to one side and performed like the great rock'n' roll band I remembered from 1975. They enjoyed it. The audience loved it. And the old dinosaurs proved they can still roar.
Long Road out of Eden is out now on Polydor.
One of these nights: the London low-down
Glenn Frey beamed when he told us that the band's new album, Long Road Out of Eden, was number one in Britain "28 years and two days" after their last studio album, The Long Run.
The band opened their set with four tracks from the album, each showcasing different members. Reaction was strongest to Henley's Too Busy Being Fabulous, a ballad about a young mother hooked to a celebrity lifestyle. Mercifully, celebrities were thin on the ground at the gig. The band did acknowledge the presence of Nanci Griffith and Paul Carrack, formerly of Ace and Mike & the Mechanics. But this was a gig where the spotlight was firmly on the band and its performance.
With the new songs well received, a lone trumpet ushered us towards Hotel California, the band's defining moment. Henley must have sung it a thousand times, but it still retains its power when he spits out its classic line, "you can check out anytime you like/but you can never leave". The biggest surprise of the night was the good humour and self-deprecation flowing from the stage. These are not qualities for which The Eagles have been famed.
Introducing a rousing version of Life's Been Good, Joe Walsh said he would have written a much stronger song if he knew he would still be singing it all these years later.
Frey, very much the dominant presence on stage, said some of the 35-year-old songs were recorded "before the Dead Sea was even ill". He dedicated Lyin' Eyes to his first wife. Surprisingly, there were no songs from any of Frey's solo efforts, which includes a live album recorded at the National Stadium in Dublin. Henley's solo work was represented by a strong version of The Boys of Summer and Dirty Laundry, his critique of the tabloid media.
After that, the band eased into their repertoire of more classic hits, including One of These Nights, Heartache Tonight and Life In the fast Lane.
They encored with Take it Easy and Desperado, two songs recorded not in the Californian sunshine, but during a damp London winter in 1972.
On Thursday night in London, the band had returned home in triumph.
SF