Eagles of Death Metal | Photo: Stuart C. Paul

The Eagles of Death Metal closed their four-month residency at the Teragram Ballroom in Los Angeles the same way they opened it — to the celebratory strains of “We are Family” by Sister Sledge. The choice could not be a more apt summation of the spirit infused into these shows. A palpable sense of warmth and belonging permeated the venue, most of it coming from the band’s frontman Jesse Hughes. Each show found him greeting the audience in a different costume. Whether in a cloak adorned with the four suits of playing cards, military fatigues from the Army of Rock ‘n’ Roll, or a shiny red cape that would put Superman to shame, he strutted from one side of the stage to the other, a punk rock Cheshire cat, smiling warmly as he reached out to embrace the crowd. 

Eagles of Death Metal | Photo: Stuart C. Paul

On a long enough timeline, fans of any band will eventually get around to musing on how they wish the band would play one of their classic albums all the way through. Eagles of Death Metal fans had their dreams come true four times over, as each show focused on a different album from the band’s catalog. From the first bars of “I Want You So Hard,” these shows started at full pitch and stayed there the entire time, drenching the venue in the irreverent, boozy chords that constitute the band’s signature sound with Hughes, our impish host, inviting us all to drop a dime in the jukebox, help ourselves to a glass of Southern Comfort, and dance ’til our boots catch fire.

It was a hell of a party, and nobody seemed to be having a better time than Hughes. He took time between songs to offer amusingly salacious asides and chat with the audience like guests in his living room, often going off on a charming tangent before getting the show back on track with a wryly understated, “And that is why I wrote this next song.”

If there is one thread that binds these shows together, it is undoubtedly family. Nowhere was this more apparent than when Hughes acknowledged his “mama,” who attended the majority of the shows. Every night culminated in him vanishing from stage, only to reappear in the balcony where he would proceed to serenade his mother, trading solos back and forth with guitarist Scott Shiflett like medieval knights jousting for the favor of the queen.

There is a profound sense of celebration, of gratitude, of legacy. And perhaps the timing has something to do with that. It’s been ten years since the tragic terrorist attack during the band’s performance at the Bataclan Theater in Paris. Hughes doesn’t dwell on the past, but neither does he avoid it. Life and death, joy and sadness were entwined within the DNA of the Eagles’s residency. Each performance felt like a reaffirmation of life that, rather than being diminished, was elevated by the presence of death.

The first show came on the heels of Ozzy Osbourne’s death. “Who else here has been listening to Ozzy all fucking week?” Hughes asked the audience, who responded with raucous cheers leading into the band’s cover of Black Sabbath’s “Sweet Leaf.” The August show took place one day after the death of Mastodon guitarist Brent Hinds. After the Paris shooting, Hughes told Hinds he wasn’t sure if he would ever get on stage again. Hinds responded with a grunt of disgust, telling Hughes, “You’re a fucking entertainer.” In fact, Hinds was scheduled to make a guest appearance at the third Eagles of Death Metal show — an appointment that sadly would never happen. Hughes led the room in a moment of silence for his dear friend — and with that, the show went on.

As Hinds said, Hughes is an entertainer. He knows how to pull an audience back up after taking them low. Whether with a cover of Bowie’s “Moonage Daydream,” leading the crowd in singing “Happy Birthday,” to a loved one, or hurling his body about the stage while inflatable puppets shower the audience with ping pong balls and confetti, the Eagles never fell short on delivering spectacle. The residency hosted a spectacular variety of opening acts including Billy McNicol, The Great Other, Reflective Detectives, The Binges, and up-and-coming country rock femmes extraordinaire, The Midnight Cowgirls. But for a rock star, Hughes is surprisingly willing to share the spotlight — whether offering a nod to Leah Bluestein, whose drums are the heartbeat of every song — or inviting The Binges’s Mayuko Okai and Tsuzumi Okai onstage for the show’s big finish.

The final chapter of the residency took place on the day before Halloween. Holiday festivities were in full swing with Hughes tossing candy to the audience. Concertgoers received an extra special treat afterwards as special guests flooded the stage for the Rocky Horror Rock Show — a Rocky Horror sing-along as only Hughes’s alter ego Boots Electric could deliver. Actress Kate Beckinsale graced the stage, portraying a reinvented Frank-N-Furter by way of Kiss of the Spider Woman, while Hughes donned a pair of golden shorts to portray her creation Rocky.

Eagles of Death Medal residency at the Teragram Ballroom in Los Angeles | Video by Stuart C. Paul

For all the flash and noise — and what glorious noise it is — each show was infused with an undeniable amount of heart. While exuberance and joy seem to be Hughes’s resting state, the last show found him striking a particularly warm note. Falling into the cadence of a Baptist minister, he gave thanks to the Lord for providing the Teragram Ballroom, a homeland for the band’s residency, and told the crowd how happy he was to be alive, to be here with each and every one of us. “You guys are the reason I got back on stage after Paris.” We’re used to bands telling their fans they love them, but damn if Hughes doesn’t really mean it. 

And so we come to the end.  Four shows in four months. If the entire residency can be summed up in one moment, it undoubtedly came during the second show when prodigal guitarist Eden Galindo returned to share the stage for the first time in nearly a decade. It was a powerful, emotional homecoming as the group played the appropriately titled “I Love You All the Time.”  

Before departing the stage, Galindo traded hugs with his fellow band members. I saw tears in Hughes’s eyes as the two men embraced. And in that moment, everyone in the room could feel the truth in Sister Sledge’s proclamation.

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