As promised, here is an EXCLUSIVE First Look at a
brand new Classic Music Essay Series put together by Jim Shea, former Y103.9 FM Morning Man
here in Chicago. (Jim has just inked a deal with Prime Magazine, a Wisconsin
Publication, that will be running the entire series ... more info here:
... check back often to
catch all of the latest installments.)
But before they run their series, the very FIRST one is running right here in
Forgotten Hits ... enjoy Jim's look back at The Eagles, circa 1975
...
FEELS LIKE THE FIRST TIME
#1
The first in a series of essays devoted to first
impressions of classic music
TAKE IT TO THE LIMIT /
EAGLES
It was the first few days of June, 1975. It had to
have been, because senior year of high school in suburban Cleveland was over,
which is to say that classes were over, but the commencement ceremony was not
until Sunday June 8th. The summer which would follow would be the
stuff of legends: long, steamy, succulent nights of smoke and rum; nights you
could actually taste. These were nights
when I still trusted my emotions; when I accepted my Ali Baba hallucinations as
fact. These were nights when absolute belief was always one drink ahead. They
generally ended around 4 am, then we were up for summer jobs by 7
am.
But in these first few days of June my friends and I
were temporarily, hermetically sealed between final exams and summer jobs;
between the world of being together every day and that other world that was
waiting out there, where we would not.
We were invited to spend those few days at a friend’s
parents’ cottage in the Lake Erie Islands. The only thing we had to do all week
was spread a bit of gravel in the back yard. We did not mind. The time was spent
in swimsuits, drinking beer and playing cards, incredulous at our own sudden
weightlessness.
At sunset of the last day we headed back to Cleveland
on the Ohio Turnpike and endured a bit of static until we were able to tune in
Denny Sanders' evening show on WMMS. He said he had in his hand a brand new
album from the Eagles. It was called One of These Nights and it was not even out
in the stores yet. He said he had listened to the whole thing and decided to
play his favorite cut. The opening notes were majestic and sad, then came the
vocal: “All alone at the end of the evening, and the bright lights had faded
from view”
The song was a natural road song, but more than that.
Its texture conveyed the exact mood of pulling away from one sweet known thing
and heading toward an unknown other. Like Plato’s cave, the real sunset was at
our backs as we headed East. The true magnificence of it was merely reflected in
the oncoming Westbound cars.
“I was thinking ‘bout a woman I loved but I never
knew”. Wow. Is this not what sets us apart from the other species, this longing
for the mythical? Doth the mighty king of the jungle yearn for some lioness of
his own imagination? Does the chimp survey the moment and feel sadness for
moments that will never be?
“And when you’re looking for your freedom, nobody
seems to care”. Yes. True. “Put me on a highway”. Check. “Show me a sign and
take it to the limit one more time”. Yes Lord, whisk us away as fast as heaven
will allow. Send us hurtling into this magical dusk. Let summer
begin.
Nothing was said at the time about how perfect that
song and the moment were. This was an age when nothing needed to be said. It was
all about living then. You weren’t constantly playing journalist, providing
color commentary for your own life. No texting. No pics. We just kept rolling,
waiting for the next great song, the next great
moment.
Maybe artists like the Eagles realized how deeply they
were able to touch us. They surely knew that every newly finished album enjoys a
brief state of grace before it reaches the stores and the critics and the
charts. Maybe they knew that in our young lives we too were celebrating the high
of having made something (of ourselves), while not yet knowing quite what we had
made.
I have heard Take It to the Limit 3,926 (rough estimate) times
since and I would be lying if I said it had the same sublime feel every time I
hear it. Likewise, daily life pollutes us and wears us out. But there was a
moment in early June 1975 when we were hanging between being and becoming, and a
song on the radio made it all hang together beautifully.
-- Jim Shea (August, 2013)
Tomorrow ... some of my own Eagles memories ... stay tuned!
(kk)
REMINDER: Jim Shea will be
taking part in the Open Mic Program this Sunday, August 18th, at the Longshot on
Route 120 in Lakemoor. It runs from 3 - 6 pm and Jim will be performing a bit
of music and comedy. Hope to see you out there! (kk)
Kent,
Nice to hear Jim Shea will be in our neck of the woods. I didn't think anybody knew of Lakemoor until I found out one of the station's board of directors lived there. Let Jim know that there's always an open mic here at WRLR for him and his friends. Kent, now get outside and enjoy what's left of summer!
- Bish
WRLR 98.3 FM
Nice to hear Jim Shea will be in our neck of the woods. I didn't think anybody knew of Lakemoor until I found out one of the station's board of directors lived there. Let Jim know that there's always an open mic here at WRLR for him and his friends. Kent, now get outside and enjoy what's left of summer!
- Bish
WRLR 98.3 FM
Wouldn't it be awesome if Forgotten Hits could, in some fashion, help facilitate Jim Shea's return to the airwaves?!?! He was always one of our favorites and I swear that not a week goes by without some Chicagoland reader bemoaning the woes of losing a couple of their radio favorites, Jim Shea and Jeff James. Never Say Never! (kk)
