Eagles Of Death Metal
Biography
Eagles of Death Metal emerged from the sun-baked desert rock scene of Palm Desert, California, in 1998, though their name might be the greatest rock and roll misdirection since the New York Dolls convinced people they were actually from New York. Neither eagles nor death metal, this duo peddles a gloriously sleazy brand of garage rock that sounds like it was recorded in a strip club's back room during a power outage.
The brainchild of Jesse Hughes, a charismatic frontman who looks like a cross between a televangelist and a cocaine dealer, and Josh Homme, the towering mastermind behind Queens of the Stone Age, Eagles of Death Metal began as a side project that refused to stay on the sidelines. Hughes, dubbed "The Devil" by his bandmates, had been kicking around the desert scene for years, while Homme, known as "Baby Duck," was already establishing himself as the king of Palm Desert's stoner rock kingdom.
Their sound is a deliberate throwback to the golden age of American rock and roll, when sex was dangerous and danger was sexy. Drawing heavily from early Kiss, T. Rex, and ZZ Top, they craft what Hughes calls "death disco" – a swaggering blend of boogie rock, glam stomp, and punk attitude that's designed to make you move your hips in ways that would make your grandmother blush. It's music for leather jackets and late nights, for dive bars and dirty dancing.
The band's 2004 debut album, "Peace Love Death Metal," announced their arrival with all the subtlety of a brick through a church window. Recorded in Homme's studio with a revolving cast of desert rock luminaries, the album featured Hughes' sneering vocals over fuzzy, minimalist riffs that packed more punch than a heavyweight boxer with brass knuckles. Songs like "I Only Want You" and "Speaking in Tongues" became instant classics in the underground, establishing their reputation as the coolest band your cooler friends hadn't heard of yet.
Their breakthrough came with 2006's "Death by Sexy," an album title that perfectly encapsulated their aesthetic. The record spawned their biggest hit, "I Want You So Hard (Boy's Bad News)," a track that somehow made leering sound romantic and romance sound dangerous. The song's success opened doors to bigger stages and broader audiences, though they never lost their commitment to making music that sounded like it was recorded in a garage by people who'd never seen the inside of a music school.
The band's trajectory took a tragic turn on November 13, 2015, during a concert at the Bataclan theatre in Paris. Terrorists attacked the venue during their performance, killing 90 people and wounding hundreds more. Hughes and the band escaped, but the trauma of that night cast a long shadow over their career. Rather than retreat, they chose to honor the victims by continuing to make music, viewing their survival as a responsibility to keep rock and roll alive.
Their 2015 album "Zipper Down" had been completed before the attack, but its release took on new meaning in the aftermath. Songs like "Complexity" and "The Reverend" felt like statements of defiance, proof that neither terror nor tragedy could silence their particular brand of rock and roll salvation.
Throughout their career, Eagles of Death Metal have remained proudly anachronistic, champions of an era when rock stars were larger than life and music was meant to be felt in your bones rather than analyzed in your brain. They've influenced a generation of garage rock revivalists and reminded the world that sometimes the best response to complexity is simplicity cranked up to eleven.
Hughes continues to tour and record, often with different lineups but always maintaining the band's core aesthetic of dangerous fun and funky danger. While Homme's involvement has varied over the years due to his commitments with Queens of the Stone Age, the band remains a vital force in keeping the spirit of classic American rock alive.
Eagles of Death Metal represent something increasingly rare in modern music: a band that understands rock and roll is supposed to be fun, dangerous, and just a little bit stupid. In an era of overthinking and over-production, they remain gloriously, defiantly simple – proof that sometimes the best way forward is to look backward, turn up the volume, and let the good times roll.
