This early work of the English author John Fowles was a countercultural favourite for showing a secret world in this case on a Greek island where reality is suspect. It was, Fowles himself reckoned, not his best. A collage of weird images is a perfectly good way of creating a lyric; rock fans, though, being who they are, have preferred to search for specifics.
The theories enthusiastically passed around are pretty much a summary of what regular folk suspected rock stars were up to: so "warm smell of colitas" equals marijuana, a face that you can't quite see on the sleeve is a notorious devil-worshipper and "you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave" proves that the "Hotel" is a psychiatric hospital, or addiction… or anything else that fits.
In the case of Hotel California, it means enough that the song is played on American radio every 11 minutes. It means enough that last year, the Eagles took time out from suing each other to issue a lawsuit against a Mexican hotel using the name. The band never matched it again, and trying to do so drove them apart. And less fanciful listeners get out of the song a feeling rather than a meaning - that same loss of innocence which concludes that novel The Magus. And in the lines about being prisoners in a world of "pink champagne on ice", pleasure and regret mix in a way that's surely prescient.
After all, when did you last hear of musicians trashing hotels? The hotel was strategically built on a prominence above the main road, and resembled a palatial, colonial mansion. Each of the rooms has its own balcony and is designed in the Beverly Hills Hotel colors. The Sunroom of the hotel, containing Californian craftsman furniture, provides vistas of the Pacific Ocean. Polo players were quickly replaced by the cream of Hollywood society: film stars, studio bosses, celebrities, and rock stars.
They transformed the bean fields to one of the most prestigious addresses in the world. The Beverly Hills Hotel is the prime occupant of Sunset Boulevard, in the city that established itself around the hotel, and adopted the hotel's name. The Beverly Hills Hotel became known as the 'Pink Palace', with legendary stories emanating from the hotel's guest rooms, bungalows in the 12 acres of gardens, and the Sand and Pool Club, whose white sand was imported from Arizona, and made the pool area look like a beach.
Old Hollywood lives on today. And I was sitting on the couch on a July day — in cut-off shorts, a t-shirt and flip-flops — playing guitar and just goofing around in this rented beach house in Malibu.
I just played it over and over. And I thought, I have to go record some of this before I forget it. Felder recorded this demo of the song a full year before the band recorded the album. We started talking about it, and Don and Glenn kind of came up with the idea We had gone to her house reluctantly. We were too wary to be friendly. In an effort to loosen us up, and to create some kind of camaraderie, she dragged out this huge ashtray filled with a mound of coke.
It was a little early in the day for us. She looked nonplussed at that. Whatever the truth, the movie deal was dead in the water. Like their Grammy no-show, the band was not particularly distressed over it. I remember from the first day, Henley seemed really reluctant about it.
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