(Capitol)As the occasional Eagle and one-time solo omnipresence approaches his 70th birthday,he’s been thinking approximately the corner of north-east Texas where he grew up. But Henley’s first solo album since 2000 is reflective rather than autobiographical; the thing he seems to have acquired from revisiting his home county is a renewed love of the country music he grew up with. Pedal steel, dobro and tall, or lonesome harmonies beguilingly abound (the last courtesy of guests Martina McBride,Miranda Lambert and several other country potentates). The only problem with having so many characterful female voices aboard is that Henley’s ambling vocal style can be overshadowed: on That customary Flame, he’s positively owned by McBride, or while Dolly Parton lights a fire under him on the waltz-tempo When I end Dreaming. The most exciting aspect of this uneven album is Henley’s lyrics: he’s by turns peppery (“Space-age machinery / Stone-age emotions,” sniffs the honky-tonk swingalong No, Thank You) and unsentimental (“Time can be unkind / But I know every wrinkle and earned every line”) – and enjoyably so.
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Source: theguardian.com