The Eagles at BankAtlantic Center
It's not a bad time to be a hipster who loves "yacht rock," or album-oriented rock, or whatever term you want to use. Yet, while name-dropping Seals & Crofts may be acceptable, and winking while blasting Fleetwood Mac's "Tusk" is fine, it remains resolutely lame to like the most definitive standard-bearer of mellow sounds, the Eagles.
While nearly all their peers have amassed some cred, the Eagles (currently comprising songwriters Don Henley, Glenn Frey, Joe Walsh, and Timothy B. Schmit) have yet to capture a chunk of the elusive "cool" market.
Rock critics have never been onboard either. In the eyes of many, their lucrative commercial take on the cosmic Americana of Gram Parsons has always reeked of phoniness and mimicry. But have you heard the bass line and harmonized distorted guitars in "One of These Nights"? Can you find me a better blue-eyed soul ripper than "I Can't Tell You Why"? What about "James Dean," an underrated power-pop masterpiece that's an instant bad-mood fixer?
You know, maybe the Eagles aren't so bad.
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