The Band That Time Forgot

The Eagles, AKA - The Band that Time Forgot, took the stage at Madison Square Garden on Wednesday night, poised in their "Men in Black" outfits (a la Johnny Cash...or Tommy Lee Jones), geriatric as ever, and proceeded to rock like it was 1980…before the “fourteen year vacation.”

All four "official" members were playing the guitar. Don Henley stood front and center, as calm and imposing as any Tarantino character. He was flanked by co-leader Glen Frey, bassist Timothy Schmit, and Joe Walsh, who is as silly and immature as any Sandler character (as a performer, not a guitarist). There was also another guitarist (the show-stealingly good Stuart Smith) and a drummer (when Henley wasn't pulling double duty on the mic and the kit). And two keyboardists. And a piano player. And everyone had a microphone! It was completely over the top (in a good way…most of the time). Nine musicians to play classic rock 'n roll?! With the occasional horn section (fronted by the surprisingly stellar sax/violin/keyboard/percussion player Al Garth), it took THIRTEEN MUSICIANS to play "Hotel California!" Admittedly, the players were all impeccable and served their roles well, so any excessiveness was redeemed by talent. The timeless quality of both the songs and the band were delivered well to the capacity crowd.

Coming off The Long Road Out of Eden, their first complete studio release in almost three decades (1994's essential Hell Freezes Over was mostly recorded live), the band looked rejuvenated despite the fact that not one of the founding members will be under 60 years old by the end of this tour. And they were really having a good time. Sure, they've played these same hits thousands of times. But somehow they are able to keep their energy level high for over three hours of classics. Timothy Schmit looks like a mysterious and wise sage with his elbow-length hair, and his slow ballads lent themselves well to Frey's country-rock, Henley's pop-rock, and Walsh's gritty, guitar-driven, straight ahead rock.

The drug-aged Walsh was as silly as ever, constantly joking with the crowd and the band, but his social confidence was not reflected through his weakening vocals. In his anthem, "Life's Been Good," or virtually any other song he was singing, Walsh literally backed away from the highest notes, needing the other eight band members on stage to pick up his slack. Luckily, his out of control guitar licks were the focal point of the spotlight, and he is an improved version of the guitarist he was forty years ago.

Similarly, when Henley wasn't playing the guitar and singing (which he still does as effortlessly and beautifully as ever), he was either drumming and singing or pretending to play percussion and sing. I was a little embarrassed for him up there, robotically and artlessly flailing his arms from conga to conga, but he more than made up for it with his time behind the kit (where he belongs) and with the guitar.

What really impressed me and stood out, though, were the four(or more)-part harmonies. Frey, Henley, Schmit, and Walsh have a Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young-esque ability to always be on key, always stay within their refined ranges, and never meander into someone else’s territory. Aside from Walsh’s need for backup, I didn’t notice one vocal flaw. Many musicians (see Billy Joel) lose a lot of range after six decades of living, four decades of touring, and five decades of drug use. Every time they sang together, I was enthralled…from what I could see, I may as well have been the only one.

Though the plethora of instrumentation and light-driven stimuli was a good step toward involving the crowd, most fans are about as old as the band. They stayed seated, unless they had dropped well over $200 on close floor seats. The only time people stood was after certain songs, out of respect, as if saluting a maestro after brilliantly conducting a 200-year-old work of art. While I agree that "Hotel California" and "Desperado" are brilliant works of art that are deserving of the ovations they got, some during-the-song-enthusiasm would've greatly added to the high-energy atmosphere that The Eagles worked hard to establish and maintain.

At the same time, they don't take themselves too seriously, and it showed through the goofy photo montages and caricatured scenes playing behind them. This can be either a blessing or a curse, and unfortunately I found myself distracted by their class-clowniness to the point that, as the visualizations got cartoonier towards the end of the set, I had to consciously remind myself that there was an attention-worthy concert going on.

The highlight of the night, other than Glenn Frey's joke that "You Can't Hide Your Lying Eyes" was written for his first wife, "Plaintiff," (pause for laughter)...was definitely the earnest, emotional version of "Desperado." The harmonies soared and the band backed Henley with just enough force to provide the perfect heartbeat to one of the greatest, saddest love songs of all time. As Henley held the final note in his trademark tenor and, still in his black suit and tie, coolly gazed out at the adoring mass of fans standing in respect to 40 years of accomplishment, it was clear that the 1980 breakup is behind them, the "vacation" is over, and The Eagles are back.