Don Henley - I Can't Stand Still CDs • Vinyl Records • LPs • Music Albums

man's arms. More likely is "Long Way Home," an aching ballad of romantic obsolescence in which "there's three sides to every story: yours and mine and the cold, hard truth." That's two more than on "Talking to the Moon," a lonely monologue cowritten with John David Souther. Here, Henley's by himself someplace in Texas where the sun "has sucked the streams bone dry" and where the moon hangs in the sky like a love that's seen its day.

Side two opens with three well-intentioned shots at sitting ducks: illiteracy, the nuclear threat and the exploitative nature of TV news. "Johnny Can't Read," replete with a cheesy Farfisa organ and a tart tangle of trashy words, is the best of the three and the album's toughest track. With a lyrical hook of "ashes to ashes, dust to dust," "Them and Us" is preciously pat but welcome anyway. More troublesome is "Dirty Laundry," particularly when considered alongside Henley's view of victimless crimes in "Nobody's Business." It is shameful that local newscasts are becoming TV tabloids in their quest for big-dollar ratings, but it doesn't befit Henley to preach. Even in the past, the Eagles had something of a credibility problem: they decried the sins of Hotel California while maintaining a suite there. Endowed with the luxury of comfortable contemplation, Henley's social concerns don't bleed half as much as his personal ones.

Than ??y, a lovely tin whistle instrumental ("La Eile") by Chieftain Paddy Moloney takes us from the contemporary to the contemplative. On "Lilah," we find a dying man reviewing his life and preparing to miss "the taste of your mouth." Taking her hand, he says farewell to a land that "is ours to tend but not to keep." The album closes with "The Unclouded Day," a traditional folk tune sweetly swung on a reggae beat. Don Henley is taking fruitful strides away from his life in the fast lane. One hopes he won't stand still anytime soon. (RS 380)

JOHN MILWARD