The Smoker You Drink, The Player You Get

This is the album that proved to be Joe Walsh's commercial breakthrough, largely on the strength of two rock classics, one of the most beloved rock songs of the 1970s, "Rocky Mountain Way" and "Meadows". Though the album's front cover credits only Walsh, Joe shares the vocals and songwriting with the three members of his band, Barnstorm: drummer/multi-instrumentalist Joe Vitale, bassist Kenny Passarelli, and keyboardist Rocke Grace. This isn't your typical 70's classic rock album with bass, drums, guitar and vocals - it is a masterful score covering so many moods from the dark "Wolf" to the bouncy "Happy Ways" to the breezy "Days Gone By"…

Joe Walsh attempts and nearly makes the free throw that wins the game. Great songs like "I Can Play That Rock & Roll" and "Space Age Whiz Kids" show he hasn't lost his edge. But the big claim to fame on this record is his "I.L.B.T.s" or "I Love Big Tits." Rather retro in feel, like the title, it harkens back to a wackier time. Good, but flawed.

Joe Walsh's long and varied career has had its ups and downs, to say the least. Here, you see Walsh in good old rock form. The opening track, "Things," pretty much defines it all: drum beat intro, a simple riff kicks in, a few synths, and then Walsh's lead - it's this simple formula that gives the album its charm. This is early '80s rock in its most entertaining and fun form. Walsh's lead guitar is, as always, breathtaking. The rock legend's trademark sound is prominently featured throughout the album, and undoubtedly here he performs some of his finest solos. The only qualm that one can pick is that the whole album is in a much-similar vein. This is classic rock, though: once you start, you want more. There Goes the Neighborhood is by far one of Joe Walsh's greatest works, particularly from this era. Indeed, after the three-year absence in solo releases, Walsh proved himself ready and able to adapt to the sound of the time with shocking ability.

Joe Walsh just hasn't been able to produce a complete album of great material, and The Confessor is no exception. The first half is dreck, with such titles as "I Broke My Leg" and "Bubbles." Keep listening, however, and at the halfway mark you find one of Walsh's masterpieces. The title tune is great - over seven minutes of pure Joe Walsh rock with cryptic lyrics and a socko arrangement. The second half also includes a cover of Michael Stanley's "Rosewood Bitters," which Walsh played on long ago.

While Universal's budget-priced best-of series, 20th Century Masters/The Millennium Collection, is welcome for introducing inexpensive compilations of a wide range of recording artists, it also complicates things for consumers when an act already has one or more collections currently in the marketplace. A good example is Joe Walsh. Walsh originally gained renown in 1969 as a member of the James Gang, which recorded for ABC Records, the catalog for which is now controlled by Universal and released through MCA Records.

As far as studio albums go, But Seriously Folks is Joe Walsh's most insightful and melodic. But Seriously Folks, released in 1978, was the album the Eagles should have made rather than the mediocre The Long Run. It captures a reflective song cycle along the same thematic lines of Pet Sounds, only for the '70s. The album's introspective outlook glides through rejuvenation ("Tomorrow," "Over and Over"), recapturing the simple pleasures of the past ("Indian Summer"), mid-career indecision ("At the Station," "Second Hand Store"), and a melancholy instrumental ("Theme From Boat Weirdos"). The disc's finale, "Life's Been Good," is a sarcastic and bittersweet ode to Walsh's "rock star-party guy" persona which reached the Top 10 on the pop charts and became a staple of FM rock radio…