I loved The Eagles back in the 70's, especially after I finished my military service. Now, watching this special, "The History of the Eagles," and downloading lyrics, I can see that, even without the music, the words are pure poetry. Having taught poetry for nearly 5 decades, that is my ultimate test of whether the lyrics are real, authentic, if you can divest them of the music and they're still poetry. Only the best artists can maintain that precious risk; take away the musical safety net, which might even support a simple three chord progression, and if what you have is still addressing key tenets of the Human Condition, then you aren't merely experiencing entertainers, money makers, or businessmen, you and dovetailing delightfully with poets.
Joe Walsh utters one of the most honest speeches I've ever heard a public figure deliver, and he struggles manfully, painfully, as if ripping heartfelt wisdom from deep within his being, about how in the final analysis, our lives are like fine-spun, intricately-woven novels; however, along the way, what we sense and experience is like running into a sudden comet or meteor, delectable or horrifying.
Don Henley, who always seems to know just what to say in the moment or afterwards, described his immediate ambiguous feelings directly following the cessation in 1980 of the band's efforts: "Horrible relief." I have to wonder how much of a gifted artist's time, effort, soul, life and genius they must invest. Henley comments that he often wondered why he was successful when equally-talented artists did not reach the apex of Henley's success. Glen Frey sends out a desperate, impassioned plea to his wife and children to support him and hope that their "second act" did not change him too drastically.
I admired the coloratura guitar riffs of Don Felder, and I was deeply saddened, when I learned that he had been replaced in one furious collision of egos and cat fights, some borderline, behind the scenes; others, embarrassedly right on stage in front of cheering but partly bewildered audiences. Frey conjures up the perfect analogy between a good band and a baseball team. You are all aligned in teamwork, energy, synergy; however, you don't have the ball in your own hand all of the time. Felder craved more opportunities to sing. Frey himself admitted that the longer The Eagles were together, the less and less he sang lead. Why? Because they had Don Henley. Henley himself mused that Felder's insistence he sing lead on one song was tantamount to Henley's demanding to play lead guitar on "Hotel California." I've watched this special now three times. It is so completely honest that no one individual emerges unscathed, yet most of them proceeded, like "Hotel California" not only from innocence to experience; but, moreover from some degree of benightedness toward a larger sense of awareness, maturity, good judgment and enlightenment as human beings, as artists, entertainers, writers, and people who realized how their creations behind the scenes and before jubilant audiences, mattered far more than they ever dreamed or feared or ever imagined could be realized.
The deep lessons I derived focused upon Henley's efforts to save Henry David Thoreau's "Walden" from commercial vandalism and decimation; Joe Walsh's gratitude at being driven to rehab so that he, too, could experience "A Second Act" with his band mates.
I think that "The History of the Eagles" should be required viewing of any budding producers, agents, or artists. It is one slice of life, one sobering view of fame, celebrity, success and failure, of Phoenixes emerging from their own self-induced immolation, of a group of young men growing up as their country and citizens in it also evolved painfully, sometimes jubilantly, with a lot of luck and some daunting disappointments.
Watching the movie is almost like watching and listening to a magician explain patiently how the trick worked as well as disclosing those times when it didn't work.
