It's so uncool to even acknowledge the existence of the Eagles that I'm tempted to tell you about how I was ready to spill a little for Waylon Jennings by reviewing Lonesome, On'ry, and Mean. But the bright red on the cover of an Artist's Choice album caught my eye: Johnny Cash picking his favorite songs, including the fossilized "North to Alaska," by Johnny Horton (which is the theme song for a lousy John Wayne movie), and, more to the point, Linda Ronstadt's cover of the Eagles' "Desperado," along with a note from the Man in Black admitting he loved the tune so much he recorded it with Don Henley himself. I took this as a sign.

The '70s were tough all the way around. All the important things the '60s kids had to fight for – dope, long hair, sex, no homework – were played out. You had to ask yourself, Do I want to take drugs if my parents are taking drugs? And even if the answer was yes, the whole counterculture-becoming-mainstream thing kind of sucked. The Eagles, well, almost every rock fan loved the Eagles, secretly anyway, because even if they weren't ever much of a rock band, they made great pop music. And what else were you going to listen to? The Dolls and Bowie, 24-7? So you had to ask yourself again, Do I listen to "Lyin' Eyes," or do I listen to "Seasons in the Sun," "The Night Chicago Died," "Brandy," or "Alone Again (Naturally)"? No contest.