Now that it's been several years since the Eagles' stranglehold on radio has been relinquished, it is acceptable to admit that you hate the band. Don't tell me "Hotel California" is "pretty good"; I don't care that the hotel is supposed to represent purgatory or whatever - the song is goddamn grating. It also doesn't interest me that "Desperado" soundtracked your first slow dance. Cowboy and poker metaphors were played out before Glenn Frey ever picked up a six-string.
When I talked with Kelly Mickelson, I neglected to ask his opinion about the Eagles. However, my guess is that, as a member of the Fucking Eagles, he probably doesn't make a habit out of spinning "Life in the Fastlane."
Over the years, The Fucking Eagles have worked hard to make a name for themselves, not only in the supremely ubiquitous genre of garage rock, but in a city like Tacoma - where garage rock bands seem to fall from trees.
While many bands in these parts skew toward the psychedelic side of the ‘60s, the Fucking Eagles make their home in the stomping, shuddering footsteps of the Sonics, our blistering rock forefathers. It's relentless, pounding rock ‘n‘ roll - the kind that kids with crew cuts and horn-rim glasses had to find in underground clubs, far from the prying eyes of grown-ups.
Mickelson joined the Fucking Eagles fairly late in the game, right around the time when they were preparing to record their first album, in 2006.
"Their bass player kind of vanished and quit," says Mickelson. "So, they called me up and I learned, like, fifteen songs in a month and we went into the studio and recorded their first record. And then they called me up and said, ‘We need a bass player.‘ I said, ‘Well, I'm just about to have a baby, my first child, and I don't know what the hell I'm doing.‘"
Mickelson stuck with the Fucking Eagles. Four years later, they have expanded from a four-piece to an eight-piece band, complete with backup singers, a slide guitar and a harmonica player. What began as a sleazy garage rock act has transformed into a full-born production - everything that began in a garage (or some facsimile of a cruddy garage) has grown into the kind of performance that befits a band of the Fucking Eagles age.
The Fucking Eagles have aged much like their predecessors. Back in the day, a band would cuts its teeth for a little while before gaining exposure and expanding its product. Believe it or not, the Fucking Eagles have been spreading their rock ‘n‘ roll seed to farther corners of the Earth than Tacoma rock fans would expect.
In addition to the Fucking Eagles multiple appearances in the recent, wonderful little indie film True Adolescents, the band's music has also appeared in an Australian crime drama called Underbelly. Now, what Mickelson is most excited about is the Fucking Eagles inclusion in the racing video game Gran Turismo 5. While you're racing through the streets in a car that you could never afford, alongside Top 40 hits, you can be soothed by the Fucking Eagles blasting from your speakers. If it wasn't a game and you could, you know, feel the wind in your hair it might just be perfect.
This all comes down to the gradual spread of Tacoma garage rock through the waves and waves of counteracting rock 'n' roll in the musical universe. These waves push harder and harder against our little corner of the world, but if we continue to nurture and support bands like the Fucking Eagles, our reach may continue to expand. And then? The world. And after that? Maybe that gold record that floats around in space. Let's get some Tacoma up there.
Maybe first, though, some Tacoma on the radio.
The Fucking Eagles
w/Dick Dale, Rat City Brass
Thursday, Dec. 9, 9 p.m., $20
Hell’s Kitchen, 928 Pacific Ave., Tacoma, 253.759.6003
w/Gold Teeth
Saturday, Jan. 15
The New Frontier Lounge, 301 E. 25th St, Tacoma, 253.752.4020
Comments for "Conquering the world" (9)
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keep dreaming said on Dec. 09, 2010 at 11:08pm
you do realize that the rest of the 'to be conquered' world has heard songs by artists like pj harvey, the pixies, liz phair, dan auerbach, cat power, war paint, etc right? its articles like this that make me wonder if you have any idea your readers know where the bar is set at for bands seeking to get promoted from local venue cover charge and alcohol salesmen to writing songs that really conquer the hearts and minds, and allowance stuffed wallets of today's youth culture?
I have insomnia and I don't remember my dreams anyways. said on Dec. 12, 2010 at 4:13pm
Proofread before you post, please. If you do, someone just may know what the hell you are talking about.
Oh, wait. Is this by chance Josey Whales?
Rev. Adam McKinney said on Dec. 12, 2010 at 6:58pm
Is this the coward Robert Ford?
--Rev.
keep dreaming said on Dec. 12, 2010 at 9:35pm
yawn
keep dreaming said on Dec. 13, 2010 at 10:44pm
though i just have to waste more of your time by saying teh fucking eagles....they're no hucksters like one hot panda. you gotta give it to them that they play what they wanna play, even if it means beating a dead horse. i just can help but be a fucking hater though when i hear some kurt vile singing about a beach on the moon, or liz phair singing fuck and run, because to me atleast, some of these bands are not like the other. and thats ok. some people like a '69 buick, and some people like a '69 chevelle. some bands talk about doing it, and some bands just get up there and do it. but for fucking eagles sake, can we get an album that at least sounds like you are not just playing loud music for a bunch of tacoma bar scene burnouts? thanks:)
Rev. Adam McKinney said on Dec. 15, 2010 at 12:41am
Keep dreaming,
I realize that we've spoken before on the interwebs. I appreciate your reasonable discourse. If you would like to talk about music, I would enjoy the conversation. I can often be found at the New Frontier. I wear a suit jacket and I have blonde hair. Please come and talk with me. I would relish the opportunity to talk with a real person as opposed to, you know, a troll.
Thanks,
Rev. Adam McKinney.
keep dreaming said on Dec. 15, 2010 at 4:37pm
whats there to discuss? tacoma produces no buzzbands. therefor there is no buzz unless you count the local bias. you can call me a troll but quite frankly, any mildly experienced periodical reader can see you are working as a spin doctor. not that there is anything wrong with covering what the underwhelming home teams are doing in an obviously over gratuitous style , but fuck, i'm tired of mediocre bullshit being put on pedestals in the volcano when there is no evidence to back up the spin. or is everyone besides me just reading 'the secret' and thinking that by just saying a band is going to conquer the world, they actually will. fuck that shit. be real. if you're a pay to play band, write some fucking good songs that'll nick xerxes in the face, get his attention. like some black angels - river of blood. alright? i mean, if i see daniel johnston jump in a river and start speaking in tongues, why the fuck should i find a local band who is really tight at playing garage rock interesting? am i the only one on the planet who's listened to kexp recently and been experienced? no. and that's why bands who can't deliver the experience can fuck off. just stop playing music. if you can't show the audience some respect and and at least try to push the fucking rock envelope, then i might be a troll, but your band is NEVER going to conquer shit. thanks for the invite, but theres nothing to talk about. unless you are ready to form a band and get at some of this blogosphere money. then i am down. because if dylan baldi from cloud nothings can write 2 hits at the tender and completely void of life experience age 19 thats got him touring and making that money, then fucking let me at it. you know dylan ain't paying to play.
Rev. Adam McKinney said on Dec. 15, 2010 at 6:00pm
K.D.,
I've got a ukelele that I don't know how to play; you've got a fire in your troll belly. Let's speak tongues in the river and experience the shit out of the blogosphere!
--Rev.
keep dreaming said on Dec. 15, 2010 at 10:31pm
fuck yes. you got a ukelele, and i got a speak and spell that i turned into a circuit bender. all we need is a drum machine and some diet cokes. play that shit on a beach on the moon. that's the new frontier my man. then grab a les paul with some phat cats and riff some heads off. too easy. itchy gitchy ya ya da da
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