The people of my generation were not just raised by our families and our communities. We were raised by the radio, the people who chose the songs and the artists who created them.
This past week has been a tough one for those of us who learned about the world through rock’s classic years, with the loss of Bowie last Monday and Glenn Frey today. Though I would say that I am more of a Bowie fan, it’s Frey’s passing that makes me uneasy.
Bowie was ethereal, singing about worlds that exist at the edges of our minds, giving us an escape from the everyday, even if it wasn’t always a pleasant journey. The Eagles taught me more about the world I was living in and would inhabit — the common experiences, the pain, the complexity that comes with just living a life.
A few years back at a party I was asked to advocate in favor of the Eagles during a marital disagreement about the band. My best argument was this — they are among rock’s greatest story-tellers.
And they are the writers behind one of my very favorite songs of all time. I am grateful that their music played a role in shaping my view of the world.
Photo credit — Adrian Keith/freeimages.com