The issue I’ve always had with the term “classic rock” is that it’s so broad it’s nearly meaningless.

As it’s come to be used, “classic rock” includes pretty much any popular music made between roughly 1964 and 1979, embracing a dozen or more subgenres from singer-songwriter to heavy metal. To the extent that the term has any meaning at all, though, you could do worse than to say “‘classic rock’ sounds like Joe Walsh in the early ’70s”: assertive, melodic, guitar-centric rock music with plenty of room for both hooks and solos.

The weird thing is that today Walsh is mostly known as a guitar player in a band that doesn’t typically sound much like his solo work: the Eagles. Prior to joining the Eagles in 1975 (and since, in his solo work), Walsh was known for fat riffs, big solos, and a warmly self-deprecating sense of humor—a bundle of characteristics that don’t often rise to the top of the list when you think about the Eagles.

Walsh built that reputation with the two groups he was in previous to the Eagles, both power trios featuring him on lead vocals and guitar: first The James Gang, and then Barnstorm. As singer/guitarist and principal songwriter, Walsh dominated both bands to the point where it’s not just legitimate, but necessary to include songs recorded by those groups in any “Best of Joe Walsh” collection; in fact, the two albums made by Barnstorm were marketed as Joe Walsh albums at the time of their release.

Several of those Walsh/James Gang/Barnstorm songs became staples of FM radio in the day, and classic rock radio ever since. Then or now, you’re going to hear “Rocky Mountain Way,” you’re going to hear “Funk #49,” and you’re going to hear “Walk Away”—it’s almost inevitable. And why wouldn’t you? They’re big, bold, funky, riff-driven rock songs that leave an impression. They’re memorable; the lyrics might not be Shakespeare, but the fat, swashbuckling riffs are consistent crowd-pleasers.

This collection also gathers highlights from Walsh’s 1975-and-beyond official solo records, including notable hit singles like the sassy, autobiographical “Life’s Been Good” (#12), as well as the hooky party anthem “All Night Long” (#19), the rhythmic, acoustic-based “A Life Of Illusion” (#34), and the dreamy, snarky “Ordinary Average Guy” (#42). In each case, Walsh’s guitar work is the highlight: engaging, dynamic, inventive, charismatic.

Little Did He Know… also includes a scattering of album tracks from each phase of Walsh’s career, and while they tend not to be as memorable as the big singles that most people probably buy this album to get, they’re solid. The James Gang’s “Midnight Man” is an easygoing rambler lit up by Walsh’s fiery licks; while Barnstorm’s “Mother Says” features both Walsh and longtime collaborator Joe Vitale on keys, counterpointing Walsh’s chunky leads. And then there’s “Meadows,” featuring a riff that’s one of those rock and roll mysteries—did Walsh steal it from Deep Purple’s contemporaneous “Woman From Tokyo,” or the other way around, or did they both borrow it from the Kinks?

Any way you slice it, a good riff is a good riff, and this album overflows with them. On the flip side, Walsh’s keening, nasally vocals can be something of an acquired taste. It’s interesting to consider that he found his greatest success in the Eagles, where he’s always been a third or fourth vocalist, getting one or two lead vocals per album or live show. Regardless of how much you enjoy it, there’s no denying that Walsh’s voice is distinctive, so much so that his songs feel virtually uncoverable.

Little Did He Know… invites you to come for the hits and stay for the deep tracks. For most people, this album will be all the solo Joe Walsh they need, a generous buffet of memorable guitar hooks anchoring the sort of punchy, playful guitar music that gives the term “classic rock” meaning.

Rating: B+

User Rating: B+

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