The exceptions to this rule come from Henley, the act's most ornery member. Although the Iraq-themed title track feels secondhand—betcha he researched it by watching CNN in his den—the wannabe epic gets a boost from Henley's pissiness, as does the decidedly bitchy "Frail Grasp of the Big Picture." (As for "Fast Company," a vomit-inducing white-funk catastrophe, it's all about anger too—mine.) In contrast, Walsh's two offerings seem like toss-offs, and Schmit's efforts constitute ultra-bland filler. And Frey? The tunes he croons, including "How Long" and "No More Cloudy Days," mainly stick to the heavily diluted and extremely tedious country-rock formula that's made these guys as rich as pashas. They're less songs than cashier's checks. Which they'll be taking to the bank very soon.