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