I've said before that I don't like taking down easy targets but fuck it, I haven't blogged in ages and I wanna warm my fingers up again by writing on a subject about which I care deeply. I hate The Eagles. I want you to hate them too.
Don Henley once got fired from a job at a post office because he couldn't push an envelope. If he hadn't become a fuckwit acting as a musician he would've made a lot of money painting lines in the MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING ROAD! Seriously, is there a bore MORing band in the world? I doubt it.
The Eagles took the country rock amalgamation that Neil Young had perfected and slaughtered it. I won't defend everything Neil Young has released but at his best, the emotion he can put into one note is enough to stop time. His raw style of production offers an honesty that should be a blueprint for any band to follow. The Eagles offer the world's most boring voices singing the world's most formulaic songs, produced and arranged to well and truly round off any sharp edges to leave only a blunt instrument that can be used to bash any idiot listener into further idiocy.
The tour de farce in their embarrassing back catalogue is surely Hotel California. Apparently this song lasts for just over six minutes. It feels like six years. Six years of nothing happening. Six years of lyrics that are just mystical enough to make you think you're getting into something real deep if you're a fucking moron. This monstrosity was only ever Stairway to Heaven's bastard cousin and STH lost all appeal when I HIT ADULTHOOD and (a) realised life is too short for self indulgent nonsense; and (b) stopped being impressed by guitarists with fast fingers. At least STH develops and - I can't believe I'm saying this - takes the listener on a journey from folk to hard rock. Fuck Hotel California. It's six years of fuckwit paedophiles holding instruments and masquerading as musicians without creating any tension to release and thereby proving they're oblivious to the tools of musicianship.Perhaps the shade of grey The Eagles paint their sound is most visible when you have the misfortune of hearing an Eagles covers band. I imagine it goes like this: "Hi, we're Life in the Fast Lane. Let's rock and roll with our first tune, Take it Easy. We're gonna follow that with Peaceful, Easy Feeling."
Yep, that's quite some range you've got there. Slow and slower. Boring and more boring. Just enough formula to make the shitheads that lap up your bullshit think they're real clever for getting the gist. Well fuck them and fuck you.
The Eagles. You know they're on John Key's iPod.
The Eagles. They should be hunted until they're extinct.
