Your Sister’s (Record) Rack: Eagles

For years I’ve been one of the millions of Eagles haters out there – including the most famous, the Dude: “I hate the fuckin’ Eagles, man!” And don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of very good reasons to hate the Eagles. But you know, the Eagles aren’t at No. 1 on my “hate” list any more. That spot now belongs to Billy Joel – but that’s another story, for another time.

When they came out of Southern California in 1972, the Eagles were influenced by the era’s country rock, pioneered by Gram Parsons and the Flying Burrito Brothers. They were a slicked-down distant cousin to Buffalo Springfield’s country rock excursions, even more pallid and meek than Poco.  Among the many adjectives attached to the Eagles included “soulless,” “insincere” and “phony.” People hated the Eagles for their self-satisfaction, misogyny, false emotions and their aspiration to pop success. Any of this criticism of the Eagles, truth to be told, could have been successfully also laid at the feet of any of the big Southern California acts of the day (Linda Ronstadt, Fleetwood Mac, Jackson Browne, America).

But it was easier to hate the Eagles – they personified everything we despised about L.A. at the time and became the biggest band in the world. Today I want to spin their 1975 LP One Of These Nights, which helped to make them international superstars. The band – Don Henley, Randy Meisner, Glenn Frey, Bernie Leadon and Don Felder – had already put out three albums and Henley had gone on record saying he wanted to push the band in the direction of hard rock before the third album, On The Border. Fans learned that what you get with the Eagles was not always necessarily what was promised – the so-called hard rock songs from On The Border, like “Already Gone” were nowhere near what was considered hard rock of the day (Led Zeppelin).

So when Henley promised a turn toward R&B for One Of These Nights, you got the song “One Of These Nights.” With its thumping beat and high-register vocal (by Henley) the song reflected the Eagles’ idea of R&B. Had it come out a few years later, it would certainly have been called disco. But the lyrics reflect a dark, occult sensuality that threads through other songs on the album.

The darkness continues on “Too Many Hands,” written by Meisner and Felder and sung by Meisner. Now you could make a case for Henley’s hard rock on this tune, as Felder and Frey deliver some tasty rockin’ guitar leads. This song is about a girl who has had “too many hands” on her and though “she’s lost all her glory” her heart “is still yearning to be found.” Henley could be singing about the same woman on “Hollywood Waltz,” but this song’s tone is one of sadness, sung to a sweet country-rock steel guitar played by Leadon. Here you can detect the seeds of Don Henley’s later solo career – but give ’em credit, “Hollywood Waltz” may be the most humane set of lyrics he’s written.

Your Sister’s (Record) Rack: The Flying Burrito Brothers

Today’s album is from 1972: Last Of The Red Hot Burritos, the live fourth album by country rock pioneers the Flying Burrito Brothers.  The Burritos were formed, of course, in 1969 by former Byrds Gram Parsons and Chris Hillman, along with steel guitarist “Sneaky” Pete Kleinow and bassist Chris Etheridge.  Parsons left after the second album, and he was replaced by guitarist and songwriter Bernie Leadon.  Another ex-Byrd, Michael Clarke, was recruited to keep time on drums.

By the time this album was recorded, Kleinow and Leadon had left the band (Leadon to join the fledgling Eagles), leaving Chris Hillman as the sole founding member.  In their places, Hillman recruited Al Perkins (guitar/steel guitar) and Kenny Wertz (banjo) and added guest musicians Byron Berline (fiddle) and Roger Bush (upright bass) for a 1971 tour.  This lineup toured until Hillman left the band in October, leaving the rights to the band’s name to Rick Roberts.  Once Hillman departed, A&M Records lost faith in the group and instead of allowing a Roberts-led version of the band (with no founding members) to record a new studio album, A&M released this live recording instead which fulfilled the band’s contract before they were subsequently dropped from the label.

Nevertheless, Last Of The Red Hot Burritos is a fiery farewell, and Hillman naturally shifts the focus toward more traditional country and bluegrass.   The record is evenly divided with rocked-up versions of Burrito originals and country standards and pure bluegrass like “Orange Blossom Special” and “Dixie Breakdown.”  And there’s “Don’t Fight It,” a soul standard written by Wilson Pickett/Steve Cropper but turned into a country rocker by the Burritos.