Maybe you don't have any idea who Joe Walsh is, or maybe you only know him as the guitarist in the Eagles, turning in stellar hot-stuff licks on "Hotel California." Or maybe the name rings a bell as the guy behind two of the most beloved rock songs of the 1970s, "Rocky Mountain Way" and "Life's Been Good," that cheerfully deadpan paean to the overfed life of a rock star. Or maybe, more recently, you've seen him looking awkward but happy on a few episodes of Drew Carey's improv comedy show. Or maybe, if you're lucky, you already know Walsh all the way back to 1969 and his place in the James Gang, the first American power trio to make it big. Walsh's guitar was a ripping, tearing, scratching thing on "Funk #49," delicate and brutal on "Walk Away," soaring whenever he slipped a finger into a Coricidin-bottle slide. He was a favorite of guitar heroes like Eric Clapton, Jimmy Page and Pete Townshend (who once said, "I don't want to sound ridiculous, but [Walsh] is one of the guys I go nuts-rapturous about"). And yet, strangely, and improbably, Walsh has never reaped the rewards that by all rights should naturally accrue to a guitarist such as him. In 2003, for instance, did this magazine award him a position among the "top 100 rock & roll guitarists of all time"? It did not. And Walsh looked to see, scanning for his name and sighing at the exclusion. But, really, he doesn't care much. He knows he's lucky just to have survived his years on the road, which were often accompanied by a chain saw and sweetened by booze and more than a little coke. His attitude about rock stardom has always been pretty much the same: ambivalent, hesitant, suspicious, averse, wavering and reluctant. In fact, he may be the most reluctant rock star ever.

But he's always loved to play in front of a crowd and still does. He just finished touring Europe with the Eagles (the band is reportedly working on a new album) and is now about to hit the road again, with the James Gang reunited. He's fifty-nine. It's the first time the James Gang have toured since he abandoned the band in 1971, and it should be great fun to see, because Walsh front and center in the James Gang is a whole bunch different than team-member Walsh in the Eagles. You get to see him undiluted, playing both rhythm and lead guitar and shouting as much as singing. Does he still have it in him?

"I'm terrified," he says, "but, yeah, I still can play that way. I mean, the James Gang used to be 'somebody counts off, and when everything's broken, we're done.' But it is scary. So we'll see."

For Walsh, much will be different this time around, of course. He's married, has kids and won't be consorting with groupies, should any James Gang groupies even remain extant. Lines of coke and tumblers of booze -- he'll be having none of that; they nearly cost him everything. Jumping off the risers -- falling, more likely. But Jimmy Fox will still be on drums and Dale Peters on bass, and at the end of the tour, after spending countless hours with Walsh, they'll undoubtedly say to themselves what they've always said about him: Who is that guy? Because while Walsh is good-natured and easygoing, nobody seems to really know who he is. Mostly he slides along in silence or behind a grin. Says Peters, "He's very funny, and his guitar playing is insane. But he's very hard to get to know."

And that, it seems, is the way he has always wanted it to be.