One Eagles song failed to reach its full potential because of a “clash of styles”
Vocal harmonies should ordinarily be delivered with a glimmer in the eye and a subtle smile, for they are the sonic version of a warm hug. Arguably, no one did harmonies better than the Eagles, as they soared into the sunny Californian skies with falsetto melodies. But make no mistake, behind them wasn’t the sort of wide-eyed grins I mentioned. It was more furrowed brows and snarly teeth grinds.
They were a classic tale of rock and roll conflict, with troubled band members passing through the revolving door, and the wrath of the band’s de facto leaders, Glenn Frey and Don Henley, proving too much at times.
But say what you want about the pair, they were steadfast in their pursuit of greatness. They envisioned a higher path for the band, and if that meant ruffling the feathers of a fellow musician, then so be it. In their original member lineup with Bernie Leadon, they had a guitarist who was firmly rooted in country soundscapes, so much so that his lack of adaptability to help move the outfit into a rockier sound meant he was shown the exit.
Two years after Leadon left, their bass player and vocalist, responsible for the mighty fine ‘Take It to the Limit’, also headed for the door. Such was Frey’s unwavering pursuit of perfection that Meisner’s exit came from not being able to replicate the song’s otherworldly high note consistently on tour.
When the band finally hit their stride with Don Felder and Joe Walsh on board, the atmosphere was still as fraught as ever. The perfection of their compositional sound came from a laser-focused approach that fought hard against the ever-present danger of emotional eruption. They were always one note away from chaos and one glance away from a fight, which is ultimately what made them so compelling.
Famously, that atmosphere resulted in the band’s eventual dissolution after Frey and Felder engaged in a long-overdue fist fight. As they walked off stage in Long Beach, the band as we had known them to that point were no longer, and, realistically, they would never again be the same.
This relationship waltz that they constantly danced can be heard in their discography. The fractures made the sonic misses strikingly obvious, while the occasions when their crosshairs lined up and they dialled into a collective focus, well, they were unstoppable.
But it’s the former point that the ever self-critical musician is more in tune with, and so, some songs present themselves as outright regrets for the band. One such song is their 1974 track, ‘On the Border’, which showcased exactly what was at play when Leadon’s guitar sensibilities were matched by Frey’s ambition.
“There was a clash of styles and influences in that song, and I’m not sure it ever became what it could have been, musically,” Frey recalled when discussing the song. It was one of the nails that were slowly hammered into Leadon’s coffin, resulting in his eventual exit. But what followed in the years after were some of the band’s greatest hits, embodying that musical essence that Frey was always seeking.
