Souther’s self-titled debut gave us “How Long,” later covered by the Eagles, but it also was the home for this pained, downcast ballad about infidelity and the guilt that follows an affair: “Well we cheated on a friend, and cheaters never win,” he sings, capturing the new Seventies lifestyle in a way he probably didn’t even intend. The definitive version of the song, though, came from Bonnie Raitt on 1975’s Home Plate, a rendition that ramped up the ache and regret while staying true to the chastened spirit of the song. —D.B.

According to Eagles lore, “Best of My Love” was born in a booth at the West Hollywood haunt Dan Tana’s, where Don Henley, Glen Frey, and Souther were drinking while watching romances both spark and burn out. Recorded for On the Border, it’s one of the band’s most country-sounding songs, thanks to the pedal steel of Bernie Leadon and the production of Glyn Johns. The version that Souther recorded for his 2011 compilation Natural History, however, was built around piano and elevated by his sublime yet pained falsetto. The Eagles’ version became a wedding song; Souther’s was a breakup ballad of the highest order. —J.H.

Souther has credited Linda Ronstadt with helping him discover country music early his career. They dated for a while and went on to have a fruitful creative partnership for years. Souther produced the singer’s 1973 album Don’t Cry Now, and a year later he contributed this stunning ballad to her classic LP Heart Like a Wheel, one of the best and most successful soft-rock records of the Seventies. It’s a slow, stately heartbreaker, full of lovely regretful imagery and deep longing, with the characteristic mix of smooth intimacy and rustic beauty that was such a key element of Souther’s work. His writing gives her voice acres of room to stretch out, highlighting the scope of Ronstadt’s vocal genius with the empathy of a true friend. —J.D.

Souther cut this song twice, first with the short-lived SHF Band — his project with Chris Hillman of the Byrds and Richie Furay of Buffalo Springfield — and then, apparently unhappy with that one, on his 1979 solo LP You’re Only Lonely. The original version is notable for the way it provided a window into another side of his musical personality. With Souther himself taking a rare seat at the drumkit, “Trouble in Paradise” has the loose, limber feel of a jazz jam session, from its sway to its flute solo. The song would serve as a template for his later forays into jazz singing and arrangements on his later solo work. —D.B.

As much as some of his SoCal peers, Souther excelled at conjuring those restless nights of the soul —those moments when you wake up the middle of the night and have no choice but to ponder your own life choices, set to melodies that also felt like one big sigh. This ode to isolation, also rendered by Linda Ronstadt the same year, nails that side of him, foreseeing a future in which Souther would be better known for covers of his songs than his own recordings. —D.B.

A deep cut from Souther’s Black Rose album, “Your Turn Now” has the feel of a hit that never was; with its effortless sway and ingratiating chorus, it’s baffling that it didn’t receive any radio play at the time. Maybe you could blame the lyric, a warning to anyone who wanted to get involved with someone like him: “I never said it was easy/That was your idea,” he sings, in what was hardly a typical love-song lyric of that era. The song itself, though, is pretty seductive. —D.B.

As accomplished as Souther was, he remained remarkably modest about his talent. When the Eagles were working on Hotel California, he casually brought them a song that left the band stunned. “Everyone looked at me: ‘Man, that’s a single, that’s a hit. Where’s that been?’” he recalled. “I didn’t know what else to do with it.” The tender track contemplates fleeting love and fame, and how the era of Seventies singer-songwriters was slowly coming to an end as new sounds like punk rose. “We were approaching 30 and could see that the rearview mirror was full of newcomers as hungry as we had been,” Souther said. The song also showcases the Eagles’ beautiful harmonizing, which won them a Grammy for Best Vocal Arrangement. —A.M.

Souther’s third solo album kicks off with its title track, a tenderly forlorn Roy Orbison-style tune that became a commercial peak for Souther. “It doesn’t have a bridge,” he observed years later. “It doesn’t really have a chorus, and it doesn’t have a third verse even. All I can say is I thought it was a catchy little tune.” One thing the song did have was the A-list backing vocal crew of Phil Everly of the Everly Brothers, Jackson Browne, Glenn Frey, Don Felder, and Don Henley, who helped make the song Souther’s biggest hit, reaching Number Seven on the Billboard Hot 100. —J.D.

“Heartache Tonight” is proof that having too many cooks in the kitchen is sometimes a good thing. The 1979 track is a collaboration between Souther, Henley, Frey, and the latter’s Detroit buddy Bob Seger — and it’s all inspired by soul legend Sam Cooke. The result is a euphoric country-rock stomper that’s impossible not to sing along to, right from the opening lines: “Somebody’s gonna hurt someone/Before the night is through.” According to Souther, the songwriting process was methodical. “Glenn started clapping his hands and singing and I joined in,” he said, “until the first verse felt right.”  —A.M.

“She gets the house and the garden/He gets the boys in the band.” That’s one way to handle a divorce! Souther co-wrote “Her Town Too” with James Taylor and Waddy Wachtel, and it was released as a duet between him and Taylor on the star’s 1981 album Dad Loves His Work. It’s often thought to be about Taylor’s messy split with Carly Simon — or perhaps manager Peter Asher’s own life — but it’s not important to speculate. Instead, focus on Souther’s stunning harmonies, and how he expertly blends his voice with Taylor’s. You can witness that magic in the video, where a bearded Souther sits in a director’s chair, delivering those underrated backing vocals. —A.M.

Don Henley stopped working with his Eagles bandmates when he went solo in 1980, but his creative relationship with J.D. Souther kept going. They collaborated on “Taking to the Moon’ and “Nobody’s Business” on 1982’s I Can’t Stand Still, and “Man on a Mission” from 1984’s Building the Perfect Beast, but they didn’t craft a hit until the sessions for 1989’s The End of the Innocence, when they took a demo by the Heartbreakers’ Mike Campbell and crafted lyrics about bitter separation and the long road to forgiveness. “We had both, within the last year or so, broken up with our fiancées,” Souther told Songfacts. “And it’s pretty much what the song says, they had both taken up with somebody else.” Fans of Souther and Henley’s lyrics have included Lorde, who raved about this song in her 2017 Rolling Stone cover story: “‘What are these voices outside love’s open door that make us throw off our contentment and beg for something more?’ It’s the most incredible fucking question of the universe.” —A.G.

In the early days of the Eagles, Souther’s 1972 solo cut “How Long” was a regular part of the band’s live set. It provided a rare chance for Glenn Frey and Don Henley to share lead vocals on a song, and it was a perfect showcase for the group’s trademark harmonies. Their minds went back to it more than three decades later, when they were searching around for songs to include on their 2007 LP Long Road Out of Eden. They cut a new version, released it as a single, and scooped up their first Grammy since 1979 for the effort. Souther helped the Eagles write their very first hits, and he’s the sole author of their final one. —A.G.