Solo Henley Fails to Soar, but Eagles Take Wing
Author: Ricardo Baca
Publication: The Denver Post
Date: September 29, 2004

The biggest criticism of Don Henley's solo career is that his music was sometimes stodgy and always anachronistic. Was it written in the '70s during the Eagles' heyday or a decade later after the seminal rock group broke up in 1982? It's almost hard to tell, even when listening to his most recent record, 2000's "Inside Job."

Henley was the bona-fide headliner at the Fillmore Auditorium on Tuesday night at the fundraising concert for U.S. Senate candidate Ken Salazar, but it was the Eagles' music that drew the people dishing out $100 for seats. That's why it was bad form for Henley to play solo material for 40 minutes before bringing out fellow Eagles Glenn Frey and Timothy B. Schmit to play Eagles tunes, only allowing about an hour for a catalog that's much more impressive and defining than his own.

But that's the way it went down Tuesday. After competent opening sets by guitarist Leo Kottke and Colorado roots rockers Big Head Todd and the Monsters, Henley took the stage with a five- piece band and confidently worked his way through "Dirty Laundry," which he dedicated to Rupert Murdoch, and "The End of the Innocence," which, with its soft acoustic guitar intro, was still breathing after 15 years of ruling adult contemporary radio.

Henley's trademark rasp was as clear as it was a decade ago in the "Hell Freezes Over" years; only now his falsetto falters and can't quite finish the "I know a place where we should gooooo" in "End of the Innocence." He rambled on about Velveeta cheeseburgers, California and homegrown integrity before singing "Sunset Grill," a track that hasn't held up well over the years. And "I Know You Broke Up With Him" and his tepid cover of Tears for Fears' "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" only proved that he should have played a 20-, 25-minute solo set and played the rest with his boys.

After a solid take on "The Heart of the Matter," Henley brought out Frey and Schmit. The electricity in the auditorium audibly switched up another notch, and it was raised even higher when Frey launched into an anthemic "Take It to the Limit" and Schmit manned the vox on the softly spoken "I Can't Tell You Why."

Because of deadline, this review was filed before the concert's end. But it was obvious where the night was going - beyond the limit, by a familiar "Hotel" and perhaps near "a corner in Winslow, Ariz. ..." Such a fine sight to see, indeed. If only it got there quicker.