None of this means I won't play some version of the song on my show this week.
It was with a small amount of sadness that I learned that the song was written by Jackson Browne, whom I don't hold in terribly high regard but I certainly don't think of him in the same sad sense as the Eagleys (is that thename?). This is what Jackson Browne looked like in 1972, when he wrote the song with recently dead Eagerly, Glen Frey:
(Image from this web site in a foreign language.)
Somehow I don't associate Jackson Browne with the sort of bullshit cowboy machismo of the dreadful Eagrets. I have always - perhaps unfairly - lumped him in with the more sensitive singer-songwriters of the 1970s, not as wimpy as James Taylor but certainly not as sincerely brilliant as, say, Cat Stevens. I will confess to liking one or two Jackson Browne songs.
But not this one. In an email recently I referred to the audacity of Browne, whom I called a "wimpy little pre-emo shit," cursing the world with such awful lines as "driving down the road trying to loosen my load" & "I'm looking for a lover who won't blow my cover." Pretty boys lead such complicated lives!
What is there to do with the problem of this problematic tune? I believe I've found an elegant solution, but you'll have to wait till Tuesday to hear it.
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