Eagles take smooth ride on rough road

The Eagles

“The Long Road Out of Eden” (ERC)

***

At a party this weekend on the edge of Santa Monica, one Gen X-er corralling his kids in the backyard said to another, “I’ve hated the Eagles all my life.” Elsewhere in the city, pals just a few years older were probably clinking their mimosa glasses in celebration of the band’s first studio album in 28 years.

It’s hard to imagine a band more divisive than this: loved by a huge chunk of its own generation for epitomizing the contradictions of the middle-class baby boomer life, detested by as many younger people (and some peevish peers) for the very same thing. “The Long Road Out of Eden” will do nothing to heal this divide.

Sprawling, but pristinely produced, animated by righteous indignation and regret, this double album offers everything fans want and detractors scorn. The sound is Lexus-level luxurious -- beyond the four remaining principals, 12 musicians thicken the atmosphere, adding horns, pedal steel, two percussionists to aid drummer Don Henley, and more.

Those famous harmonies swell to choir-like proportions on the opening track, “No More Walks in the Wood,” and when a twangy guitar kicks on the resurrected J.D. Souther rambler “How Long,” the effect is bionic -- the old Eagles, even sleeker.

So “Eden” proceeds, eventually overindulging. A couple of country-soul swooners feature Timothy B. Schmit’s melty tenor; a couple of stompers play on Joe Walsh’s image as the Wacky One. Mostly, though, Henley and Glenn Frey stand up front, still sounding like long-lost brothers as they trade gruff vocal lines and ponder 40 years of baby boomer dominance.

Twenty songs stretched over two discs, with the title jeremiad clocking in at 10-minutes-plus, means that the most irritating and attractive aspects of the band are in full flower. Henley’s moralistic rants address not just the war in Iraq but ungrateful trophy wives, clear-cut forests, the death of journalism and high-cholesterol diets. If his social critiques were all this album offered, it would be as fun as a lecture from Dad.

But those harmonies always return, adding honey to the vitriol. The country-rock rhythms choogle along, leaving witty little guitar licks in their wake. Ballads such as “It’s Your World Now,” written by Frey and longtime Eagles collaborator Jack Tempchin, express the other side of baby boomer entitlement: subtle self-doubt and quiet fatalism.

This is the ocean-sunset side of the Eagles, the sound of privileged guys relaxing within life’s often crazy flow. It’s what makes “Long Road” and every other Eagles release undeniably pleasurable.

Even Henley’s chronic torment is subsumed by the band’s effortless professionalism and self-satisfaction, which subdues his efforts at protest more effectively than any deal with Wal-Mart could, and will again repulse those who seek conflict and tension in their guitar-driven rock. But a smooth ride through rough terrain is what many midlifers crave, and they’ll be very happy that the Eagles are back to carry them through.

--

ann.powers@latimes.com