Timeless

I grew up on Eagles' songs. My best friend and I immediately learned to play every new release from them as soon as it hit the radio. That was before you could simply jump online and find the lyrics and chords for any song you'd ever heard. We recorded them on casette and played them on repeat until we got it right.

Any one of the 86 songs they recorded could have been our anthem, and many of them were much more popular than The Sad Cafe. For me, though, this piece has a timeless quality that I, and, I think, other creators can relate to. It's been covered by more bands than I can count, but no one has ever matched the heartbreakingly nostalgic air of the original.

It was released in 1972, so some of you may not have heard it. With that in mind, I tried to find a lyric video, but, yeah, you guessed it - they're all done by cover artists. So, I chose the cut from "The Long Run" album above, because it doesn't have any distracting video content. You can find the lyrics easily enough online, but you'll find you can actually understand the words as you listen to this one.

The song was written about the Troubador, a club in West Hollywood that's been a legend in itself with musicians since 1957. After all these years, creatives still gather there to perform, share and colaborate. That said, this song could easily apply to any venue where friends gathered, and for me, there have been a few of those places that will always be missed.

Musically speaking, this song has it all. A sustained piano lead-in builds anticipation, finally joined by bass and percussion. Just when you think it's never going to start, the voice of Don Henley gets the story underway. Two full verses later, the chorus treats you to that unmistakeable Eagles harmony.

A poignant vocal bridge speaks of the expectations of the artists gathered there, and Henley goes on to tell of dreams realized, broken dreams, and dreams left behind. There's a simple instrumental interlude, followed by yet another vocal bridge, then the final plea: "So meet me at midnight, baby..."

After the melancholy tale concludes, you're slowly guided out by the mellow tones of an alto saxophone, backed by that same, sustained piano riff. The sax takes one run to the upper end of its range and then fades, after what may be longest "outtro" ever recorded.

Give it a listen. Maybe there's something there to stir your soul, too!

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This was written in response to Annie Kapur's brilliant Sing us a Song of the Century challenge:

Thanks, Annie, and thanks to those of you that took the time to read this!