Eagles - Peaceful, Easy, Feeling
When an earworm has a twisted sense of dark humor
'Cause I gotta peaceful easy feeling
And I know you won't let me down
'Cause I'm already standing
On the ground
My brain likes to play tricks on me.
Not Geto Boys’-style playing tricks, nothing that dark. But if there is a song lyric to represent the exact opposite of how I’m feeling, my brain will search its vast music archive (Spotify’s got nothing on it) to find the perfect line from my sonic subconscious and surface it.
I do wish that I had a peaceful, easy feeling. It does sound quite nice. Kind of like an afternoon on a secluded, warm beach with a loved one or two and a shrimp on the barbie….I was going to make up some crap about The Eagles (Is it The Eagles or Eagles? I will use both.) being the greatest band from Australia but it didn’t read as funny as it sounded in my head, so instead I’m writing about not writing about it.
And I’m also not writing about what I wanted to write about. The not peaceful easy feeling.
I spoke in my last piece about my recent influx of anxiety, and I can say, ten or so days later, that I’m much, much….the same. I imagine there’s a bit of flux to the influx, some hours less nervy than others, but averaged out over a full day I’d say it’s no better, no worse.
My attention span remains span-less, but I have been taking in some nourishing input. The shelves in my inspiration supermarket are becoming stocked with exciting sights and sounds, and even some smells; the remodel is coming along and I am looking forward to ‘sharing the wares,’ as it were. To mix several metaphors.
In fact, I saw live music twice this past week and both concerts were a blast.
First, I attended an afternoon house concert where one of my favorite songwriters, Joe Pernice (Pernice Brothers, Scud Mountain Boys) performed for a group of about 50 appreciative folks. Here’s a video of one of the songs.
The other concert I attended couldn’t have been more different.
That would be the glam-hair-pop rock band The Darkness. Led by charismatic vocalist/guitarist Justin Hawkins, The Darkness are touring to celebrate the 20th anniversary of their debut album, Permission To Land. Justin is quite flamboyant and sings in a sort of falsetto, but with a more screamy, castrato vibe. I personally love it, but I can see why some might find it a bit much. He is on a 1-man crusade to bring back the one-piece spandex jumpsuit and even in his mid-40s has the body to pull it off.
I didn’t record any good phone videos at the show, but here’s the music video from their biggest hit back in 2003.
Sorry, this post is all over the place — even I’m getting myself lost. And I say this as someone whose writing style is largely tangent-following (or as I like to call it, my patented “What’s that shiny thing over there?” literary method).
BACK TO THE EAGLES. OR EAGLES.
The glass 1/4 full part of me sees the arrival of this Eagles earworm as showing me what is possible. That even with the stress of trying to find a memory care/assisted living home for my aunt (who has Alzheimer’s), that although the increase of robberies and other crime in the city I live in is frightening and leaves my even more hyper-vigilant than usual, that despite the threat of catastrophic environmental collapse, it is possible to acquire and maintain a peaceful, easy feeling.
I feel like the glass 3/4 empty part of me interrupted that paragraph. Or as I like to call it “the glass 3/4 broken.” You know, it’s a little Buddhist humor. Everything being impermanent and all.
The Eagles’ self-titled debut album was quite possibly the very first “album” I ever owned. I put “album” in quotes because the first entries in a music library that now numbers in the tens of thousands were 8-track tapes.
I was probably eight or nine when my parents bought me my first Panasonic portable 8-track player. It was red, and it had a T-shaped button on top that, when you pressed down, would switch from one “track” to the next. It was the precursor to the ‘skip’ button on the CD players that wouldn’t appear for over a decade.
I can only assume my dad bought me my first 8-tracks. Perhaps I had accompanied him to Licorice Pizza or Sam Goody and picked out The Eagles’ first album, Barry Manilow’s Trying To Get The Feeling (1975), and Neil Sedaka’s Solitaire (1975). It is hard to believe my young self was such an early Yacht Rock connoisseur. I was so ahead of my time.
Although it was The Eagles I played most often, I did really like Barry and Neil, especially Barry’s “I Write the Songs,” and Neil’s “Solitaire.” But it was Barry’s “Bandstand Boogie,” that was my favorite.
I remember watching American Bandstand on our black-and-white TV and being amazed at all the dancers. Though Barry’s song didn’t become the show’s theme until 1977 and remained as opening and closing music for another decade.1 Pretty slick move by Mr. Manilow to write a song about a popular TV show. I bet he was able to buy a couple of nice pianos with that moolah!
I always loved the full orchestra songs that Barry wrote and performed. This one, and, of course, “Copacabana” goes without saying.
Damn it. Clearly, I don’t want to write about The Eagles/Eagles.
It’s not that I’m no longer an Eagles’ fan. I’m not really a fan, but I’m also not not a fan. Does that sounds like I’m trying to have it both ways? I mean, what does being a fan really mean? Is it possible to enjoy something and not be a fan of it? Oh, don’t get me started.
I do believe the Eagles have written at least a dozen bonafide classic songs. Probably more. Will I be happy never to hear “Hotel California” ever again? Sure.
You won’t find me writing an impassioned defense of one of the most maligned bands in rock history, though. I don’t see them as the evil spawns of Satan who’ve ruined the music and concert industries, as many critics and snobs believe.
Though they are on tour again right now, with Sheryl Crow opening some shows and Steely Dan others. Catch them in a city near you for the low, low, price of 975 dollars for the nosebleed seats! And you might want to carpool cause parking is 50 bucks!
I would only pay that much if Don Henley and Joe Walsh wore 1-piece spandex jumpsuits. And then, at the end of the show, they all shot off in a rocket to Mars to live with Elon, Mark and Jeff.
Now that would leave me with a peaceful, easy feeling.
Well, that was something!
Are you pro Eagles or con Eagles?
And if you are from Philadelphia and a football fan, does that influence your opinion of them?
Spandex jumpsuits, coming back in fashion?
I appreciate you sticking with me for the erratic posting of earworms. Think of each appearance in your mailbox or Substack app (and you really should read it in the app!!!) as a special present!
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Bandstand
This version introduced lyrics written by Manilow and Bruce Sussman, referencing elements of the series. The previous theme was retained as bumper music. From September 13, 1986, to September 5, 1987, Manilow's version was replaced at the close of the show by a new closing theme arranged by David Russo, who also performed an updated instrumental arrangement of "Bandstand Boogie" when Bandstand went into syndication.
Like you, I'm ambivalent about The Eagles. I really enjoy their early country-rock albums. Hotel California was great, but so over-played I would be happy never hearing any of those songs again. And The Long Run brought out the worst of Frey/Henley's tendency to over-produce and over-think everything. Plus, let's not forget that Henley is one of rock's all-time douches. Maybe worse than Mike Love, which takes a lot of effort.
Eagles, Manilow...all you needed to add was The Captain and Tennile and my head would have exploded. But I love you anyway, Steve! Oh, the answer: Two: One to change it and one not to change it.