On the Border (1974)
1. Already Gone
2. You Never Cry Like a Lover
3. Midnight Flyer
4. My Man
5. On the Border
6. James Dean
7. Ol' 55
8. Is it True
9. A Good Day in Hell
10.Best of My Love
If Desperado was the sound of four dusty gunslingers drifting into myth, On the Border found The Eagles cleaning up, plugging in, and inching ever closer to the polished sheen of superstardom. The Western concept was largely retired, and with it went any last illusions that the band were simply a country-rock outfit dabbling in folklore. This was a transitional record — part roots, part radio — and like most transitional efforts, it’s slightly uneven, but deeply revealing.
Key to the evolution was the formal addition of Don Felder, a Florida-born guitar technician whose presence had already been felt on the previous album. Here, officially enlisted as the fifth Eagle, Felder brought with him a harder, steelier edge. Though not yet given a writing credit (that would come later), his fretwork throughout On the Border adds bite to a band previously known more for finesse than fire. It’s no coincidence that his arrival coincided with the group’s gradual drift from dusty trails to glossy boulevards.
Also new to the mix was producer Bill Szymczyk, drafted in to replace Glyn Johns, whose rustic sensibilities were now deemed incompatible with the band’s direction. Szymczyk’s instincts leaned toward clarity, control, and commerciality — words that, depending on your view, either praise or condemn. But there’s no denying the result: On the Border sounds immaculate. The harmonies glide, the guitars gleam, the drums snap in all the right places. If there is a flaw here, it is one of consistency rather than execution.
The lead single, Already Gone, opens the album in familiar territory — structurally reminiscent of Take It Easy but thickened with Felder’s crunching guitar lines. It’s a deliberate signal of intent: yes, we’re still The Eagles, but now we plug in with purpose. The shift works. So too does the album’s biggest hit, Best of My Love, a languid, bittersweet ballad that showcases their trademark vocal blend at its most delicate. That it went to number one speaks to how deeply their formula was beginning to resonate with the broader public.
There are moments here that echo the past. The title track On the Border could easily have ridden alongside the outlaw motifs of Desperado, with its vaguely political undercurrent and breezy tempo. Meisner gets his usual moment on Midnight Flyer, a banjo-powered romp that veers dangerously close to novelty but is saved, once again, by sheer musicality. And the Tom Waits-penned Ol’ 55 is given a characteristically smooth Eagles treatment — all warm twilight and highway longing, though not quite as grimy or affecting as Waits’ own version.
Then there are the songs that try, perhaps a bit too obviously, to prove that the band could rock. Good Day in Hell earns its place with snarling energy and tight ensemble playing, but James Dean, despite being a minor hit, feels forced. It’s all surface — name-checks and shout-along choruses with little beneath. It’s not bad, per se, but it doesn’t quite rise to the standard the band were already setting for themselves.
This is perhaps the curious fate of On the Border. It’s a good album. At times, it’s a very good album. But it’s wedged in a catalogue surrounded by giants, and suffers by comparison. Call it the price of greatness — when your bar is Hotel California, your solid efforts risk being mistaken for stumbles.
Yet, judged on its own terms, On the Border remains essential. It captures a band in mid-molt, shedding the last of their hippie feathers and growing the sleek plumage of arena dominance. It is transitional, yes — but transitions are where identities are forged. And here, The Eagles were beginning to sound exactly like themselves.
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