Posted in: Rock by Dusty Horse on July 22nd, 2008 | 0 Comments
This is a review (and memoir) of the July 19, 2008 Eagles’ show in New Jersey. It was a powerful and dynamic presentation from the band with the biggest selling album in American history. Like a good stock, the ticket prices are increasing as the tour progresses.
During the Eagles’ three-day-stop at the Borgata Hotel in Atlantic City, New Jersey the Los Angeles band – who laid down their first tracks in 1972 in their self-titled debut – sounded better than ever. More energetic. More harmony, sensational sounds.Tight, together and having fun, they delivered a bunch of tunes that won’t soon be forgotten by a sell-out crowd, many paying more than $1,000 a seat for front section tickets, some front-row-centers selling for $1,500. As guests we caught the act from the 14th row. Moments after the show began, on time at 8 p.m. with no opening acts, The Eagles did everything they were allowed to do. Even the old Grateful Dead had nothing on this band when longevity of show is considered.
After 3.5 hours they were given the hook, as the crowd sat expecting yet another encore as the lights stayed dark for five or six minutes, indicating a debate on the issue. But economics of casinos revenue must have won out, as they finally didn’t come back. Just prior to that they kicked-up a light and young Take It Easy, just prior to Don Henley stepping to the edge of the stage to close it out with a sad-ballad warning to everyone in Desperado. Personally, I go back all the way with these guys. They were Linda Ronstadt’s Band, prior after her Stone Pony’s hit, Different Drum, and played a couple of nights a week, down the street from where I lived on Canon Drive, at a club called Troubadour. Henley and Frey went on a two-month tour with Linda and then quit to form the Eagles. Back then, this band, as all the bands did, would hang out in the grassy center strip that divided Santa Monica Boulevard between sets.
We’d hang out with them, as they were like the coolest older people we knew. Linda would come out too and they passed the joints of Acapulco Gold and Panama Red, and we’d end up with many a roach – which we never inhaled!By the time I moved East in the early 1970s, I was losing interest in my harmonic hometown bands, like the Eagles (Troubadour), Doors (Cheetah), Byrds (Gazarris), Buffalo Springfield (Pandora’s Box), et al. By now, I had been exposed to Bruce Springsteen and the stench that emanated from Max’s Kansas City, which included Blondie, Talking Heads, Lou Reed, The Ramones and hundreds of others. The Cars took me up and Marshall Crenshaw was a sound and tempo that represented my tastes a lot more than the Eagles. Then it was on to Europe, Alphaville; Elvis Costello and Joe Jackson. Long before I became a journalist, my tiny, but diverse, firm actually had a couple of top name national touring acts under contract. So it was culture shock ending up with this invitation to the Eagles. I insisted it should be a fun night, but honestly had no interest in their music whatsoever. I have a trove of their albums, but haven’t pulled them out in decades. Was I wrong?Wrong couldn’t be further from reality.
