Alan Rickman: Come on.
Glenn Frey: …Huh.
With the standard Joe Walsh exception, I’ve never found anything particularly interesting or appealing about the Eagles, as a band. As people, they seem either unexceptional or like generic, cardboard-cutout rock star assholes. (I mean, just for starters, there’s Frey’s co-writer culpability for “Get Over It,” Don Henley’s awesome rich-straight-white-guy-splaining anthem; check the YouTube comments for a sweet litany of liver-curdling Mr. Me-Toos.)
Having said that, I will paste the following, which I found a few years back on the Wikipedia (and on the clock, I might add) and which is my favorite thing about the Eagles I‘ve encountered so far.
On July 31, 1980, in Long Beach, California, tempers boiled over into what has been described as the “Long Night at Wrong Beach.” The animosity between Felder and Frey boiled over before the show began, when Felder said, “You’re welcome—I guess,” to California Senator Alan Cranston‘s wife as the politician was thanking the band backstage for performing a benefit for his reelection. Frey and Felder spent the entire show telling each other about the beating each planned to administer backstage. “Only three more songs until I kick your ass, pal,” Frey recalls Felder telling him near the end of the band’s set. Felder recalls Frey telling him during “Best of My Love,” “I’m gonna kick your ass when we get off the stage.”
So: Goodnight, funnyman. Fare thee well, blues smuggler. Vaya con dios, desperado. I can’t tell you why, new kid in town, but there’s gonna be a heartache tonight—I know.
Take it easy.