“Confessional”: Joe Walsh on the most honest record he ever made
In many ways, technology serves a positive purpose in music, helping traditionally arduous processes become more efficient and fine-tuned. In others, it abolishes music’s ability to appear raw and unpolished, which, for someone like Joe Walsh, isn’t always a good thing. In fact, for his 11th solo album, he sought to recapture the magic of old systems and build an album that criticised the digital age rather than pandering to it.
During his so-called glory days, Walsh embodied almost everything associated with rock ‘n’ roll, from trashing hotel rooms to indulging in wild parties, excessive substance use, and living a life of excess and rebellion. However, he also produced iconic guitar riffs and contributed to the success of major groups like the Eagles and the James Gang.
Beyond his chaos and destruction, Walsh had a talent few others possessed, and he soon became shortlisted as a genius among names like Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton, and Jimi Page. However, like most heroes who rise from the depths of immense pain, Walsh’s alcohol-induced antics soon caught up with him, and he was forced to reevaluate his lifestyle choices if he wanted to prioritise his health and well-being.
By the late 1980s, rock bottom was familiar territory for Walsh, who suddenly recognised the glaring ugliness attached to excessive substance abuse and how fun and joyful partying transitioned into the insidious destruction of everything life had gifted to him. It’s a tale as old as time; scraping the big time in a space as erratic as rock ‘n’ roll yields temptations beyond control, and once it grips on, it refuses to let go.
Nevertheless, Walsh broke free and embarked on a long and insightful journey of sobriety. He enjoyed his newfound advocacy, realising all the added bonuses of shunning the booze in favour of a healthier, more fulfilling lifestyle. Of course, this decision impacted his art—as being able to think with clarity does—but for the better. Unlike before, Walsh was treating his art like a therapeutic avenue, and his lyricism became much more reflective as a result.
Analog Man was an experiment of sorts, not least because of the major names he enlisted—the most obvious being Jeff Lynne and Ringo Starr—but because it showcased Walsh’s longstanding dislike of technological intervention while reflecting on the years of personal growth he had worked hard on. Lynne’s input stands out like a sore thumb, just as every ELO song sounds distinctively his, but his contribution also bolstered Walsh’s desire to create something that sounded crisp and clean without compromising on the subject at hand.
His sobriety also marked a pivotal personal chapter, giving the album a fresh perspective hinging on the lyrics, which often encroached on themes of appreciation for the simple things in life. After all, what better way is there to criticise the negative impacts of alcohol consumption than to recognise all of the beauty that has arrived after ditching it? According to Walsh, this direction saw him become more “confessional” but in a way that showcased his fearlessness in tackling the subject.
“I started trying to listen to what the kids were doing,” Walsh told Dominion Post. “I bought some new music and tried to keep up for a while. Then I just thought ‘who am I kidding’ you know? So I listened to some of my old albums and I made a Joe Walsh record.” Discussing the intimacy he injected throughout, he added: “This is the most confessional thing I’ve done. It’s very honest. It’s my life on a record, there’s a lot of reflection in these songs, something that could only happen after this long time being sober, finally being comfortable with it.”
Analog Man came after a long hiatus Walsh took to focus on getting better, but the result of forcing himself into somewhere that felt overwhelmingly terrifying was a record filled with hard truths and euphoric self-discovery. He may always be the self-proclaimed “analog man”, but at least he can enjoy the more traditional creative processes with an unmisted lens, free from the cloudy haze of addiction.
