Edward Lodewijk Van Halen (January 26, 1955 – October 6, 2020)
Accolades, plaudits and praises are being heaped on the late Eddie van Halen, founder guitarist of Van Halen, with his brother Alex on drums, vocalist David Lee Roth and bassist Michael Anthony. Over the years the brothers were the core members and both Roth and Anthony were eventually replaced. The Van Halen career can be divided into the David Lee Roth period and the Sammy Hagar period, much as the career of AC/DC can be separated into the Bon Scott years and the Brian Robertson years. in the same way I prefer Bon Scott with AC/DC, I prefer the Roth version of Van Halen, for much the same reason: they brought an insouciance to the vocals that their successors flacked, regardless of how successful the respective bands still were.
Anyhow, the claim is that Eddie van Halen is one of those guys, like Hendrix, who changed the sound of rock guitar, especially hard rock guitar, forever and was not only technically brilliant and an innovator but also played with immense emotion, mostly happiness and inspired countless young guitarists and apparently caused unease in older guitarists.
As I understand the story, Van Halen was one of those bands that struggled to achieve success, with a debut album, Van Halen (1978), that eventually sold millions, on the back of a cover of “You Really Got Me,” and became a truly influential record, not only for Eddie personally but for the new hard rock sound pioneered by the young upstarts in the hey days of punk and in the wake of the first generation of heavy bands that were morphing into dinosaurs. Van Halen kicked open the door and let fresh air into the increasingly stodgy metal and hard rock scene.
The hard rock jocks of Radio 5 played some Van Halen tracks and “Jump” from 1984 became a big radio hit in South Africa too, but they hardly released top 40 radio fodder and one had to buy the records to get the whole kahuna. I never did buy them.
If I were to make a list of my top hard and heavy rock bands of the period preceding Van Halen’s ascendancy (i.e. before the release of Van Halen), the list would include, in no particular order, Led Zeppelin, early Kiss, Aerosmith, Blue Oyster Cult and the trio version of Grand Funk Railroad. Of course, all of them were essentially guitar based and the guitarists were technically proficient but none of them traded on the kind of overweening virtuosity that seemed to be the trademark of Eddie van Halen and so many “shredders” that followed. Like the punks, I eventually grew tired of lengthy, facile guitar solos and could dig where the insult “guitar wank” came from. Soloing, even at length, isn’t the difficult part. The challenge is to play solos that engage the audience and are viscerally thrilling beyond mere expertise and speed. Eric Clapton with Cream, Jimmy Page, Donald Roeser, and Joe Perry and Brad Whitford of Aerosmith are some of my favourite guitarists because their guitar playing, solos specifically, cause a gut reaction that I don’t just appreciate for the technical mastery, as I kind of do in the case of Eddie van Halen.
On listening to Van Halen again for the first time in many years, I’m reminded why I didn’t buy it or have much interest in it back in 1978. It doesn’t sound particularly innovative, even “Eruption,” (just evidence of hours of practice) and the rhythm section Is far too stolid for my taste. There’s no doubting Eddie van Halen’s virtuosity but it doesn’t seem extraordinarily better than, or different to, any of his peers. The songs aren’t more than serviceable. For me, the restrained, acoustic opening to the rocked up blues, “Ice Cream Man,” makes it the best tune on the record.
I guess, the band made its reputation and built an audience by touring and its stage presentation, with Roth’s classic front man exhibitionism and Eddie van Halen’s guitar solos.
The debut was commercially successful but Van Halen II (1979) was less so. Here “You’re No Good” is the cover possibly intended to ensure the same interest as “You Really Got Me” engendered on its predecessor but it’s only a solid, stolid hard rock version of a tune much better served by, for example, Linda Ronstadt.
“Spanish Fly” is the acoustic guitar finger exercise counterpart to “Eruption” and the rest of the tracks are proficiently played hard rock tunes with nothing of interest that would make one want listen to the record more than once.
My interest in Van Halen was really piqued by the third album, Women and Children First (1980), or at least the opening track “And the Cradle Will Rock” as well as the rollicking “Take Your Whiskey Home” and the jazzy “Could this Be Magic?” Most of the tracks conform to the hard rock template of the first two albums but third time around, it seems that Van Halen finally found a more creative spark that inserted telling, intriguing, often acoustic guitar, details in the tracks to elevate them from the stolidness the band suffered from before. This is where Van Halen really found their mojo; this album is all killer, no filler.
I’m more ambivalent about Fair Warning (1981) which starts off with material in a similar style to the first two albums, and therefore a relative disappointment after Women and Children First but is then redeemed by the edgy synthesiser swirls of the last two tracks “Sunday Afternoon in the Park” segueing into “One Foot Out the Door.” The previous tracks are just standard hard rock, but the album finale is almost alone worth the price of entry and a heart-warming indication of a change in direction away from stodgy hard rock.
Diver Down (1982) has so many cover versions one could think that the band found it difficult to write new material. There’s another Ray Davies tune (“Where Have All the Good Times Gone?”), a sizzling version of Roy Orbison’s (Oh) Pretty Woman,” a terrible version of “Dancing in the Street” and acoustic and fun takes on “Big Bad Bill (is Sweet William Now)” and “Happy Trails” on either side of a great original “The Full Bug.”
On this album Van Halen fully embraces synths and quirky elements to embellish and enhance, and somewhat lighten, the trad hard rock of earlier albums, and it’s better for it.
For me, the pinnacle of early Van Halen, is represented by 1984 (1984), also the swam song of David Lee Roth, who went off pursue a solo career after its release. The opening tracks “1984,” “Jump” (a big pop hit), “Panama” (another big hit) and “Top Jimmy” are as good as it gets, with good tunes, solid riffs and pop smarts that elevate the hard rock underpinning, and the rest of the album, though not nearly as strong, is pretty good and evidences the same innovation and freshness.
Between 1980 and 1984 Van Halen progressively upped their game and went from being a common or garden hard rock band, albeit with a genius guitarist and sassy vocalist, to a genuinely exciting, inventive, entertaining rock band.
Sammy Hagar is introduced as the new vocalist on 5150 (1986.) Hagar was the lead vocalist for Montrose and also followed a solo career before joining Van Halen, with albums like Standing Hampton (1981) and Three Lock Box (1982), and his music was of the hard rock type where I admire the sound rather than love it, and only “Heavy Metal” from Standing Hampton is the kind of visceral rocker I rate highly. The rest is just workmanlike, crafted unimaginative rock played by studio professionals. To me, Hagar is a journeyman vocalist and songwriter whose success is due to hard work rather than major talent.
“Why Can’t This Be Love?” “Dreams” and “Love Walks In” fit the template of so many ‘80s rock ballads and the rockers feature intricate guitar riffs and fills, and the arrangements are intricate, but the feeling is that the band has reverted to the stolidness, and lacklustre song writing, of the first two records and Hagar’s voice is a powerful but inflexible and unsubtle instrument and the overall effect is of listening to a Hagar solo album, rather than a Van Halen album, as typified by their best work in the 1980 – 1984 period. It’s noteworthy, at 43 minutes, that it’s the longest Van Halen album to date too and the extra minutes don’t offer extra quality.
On OU812 (1988) Van Halen embraces that recognisable highly polished late ‘80s production style that was deemed necessary for commercial success, and might have succeeded with the goal, but diminished the power of so many rock bands by smoothing out the exciting sharp edges and rawness and reducing previously thrilling hard rock to pablum. It’s no wonder that the raw edginess of Guns ‘N Roses, whose debut would be released in 1989, spoke so much more powerfully to a younger generation of hard rock fans, but for the time being bands like Def Leppard and Aerosmith reaped the commercial benefits of being groomed into radio friendly acts.
The best one can say for OU812 is that it’s well produced, sounds great (if you like that style of music) and that the songs are well arranged and proficiently played but it I’ve ever heard AOR hard rock, this is it. it’s even longer than 5150 and no better for it.
Curiously, a cover of Lowell George’s “A Apolitical Blues” is a bonus track on the CD and streaming versions of the album. it’s arguably the best song on the album.
Full Unlawful Carnal Knowledge (1991) is a knowing, childish smirk of an album title and opening track “Poundcake” is in that same juvenile, hard rock macho cliché vein. Hard rock is not particularly mature, or aimed at mature males, but if you realise that this album, and this kind of lyrical japes, competed with Metallica and Use Your Illusion I and II, it does seem like an unfortunate misjudgement.
The major plus of this record is that the unfortunate ‘80s production has been relegated to the dust bin of history and the new sound is beefy, solid, powerful and, though still polished, has some serious heft. All the strengths of Van Halen are present and correct, but songs are never more than functional, with instrumental arrangements designed to impress and deflect attention from the weak lyrics and lack of tunes.
Sammy Hagar left the band after recording, and presumably touring, Balance (1995.) Once again the production emphasises the brute instrumental strength of the band and Eddie van Halen’s virtuosity. As with Full Unlawful Carnal Knowledge, the songs tend to open with intricate, strong and energetic riffs that are generally more interesting and far better than the songs they introduce.
“Big Fat Money” (influenced by “Too Much Monkey Business”) is a nice loud, fast track for a change and not the type of enervating mid-paced stomp the band usually plays. “Not Enough” is an endearing, big, piano driven ballad (the synths seemed to have disappeared from the Van Halen colour palate), “Doin’ Time” is an Alex van Halen drumming masterclass, and the other tracks are the usual mix of acoustic guitar on slower tunes and intricate hard rock riffs on the tougher tracks. Nothing very distinguished here and perhaps these are the signs that the band is slowly grinding to a halt.
Hagar was replaced by Gary Cherone (ex Extreme) for one album, Van Halen III (1998), the last studio release for the next 14 years. Surprisingly, the album opens with a ruminative keyboard and acoustic guitar instrumental before the normal hard rock service resumes. Kind of. Not only is there yet another different voice, the musical style is also less bombastic and less mega-riff driven than on previous records with a greater range of guitar sounds and textures and what was described as a prog rock approach. Perhaps, it’s just Van Halen’s Led Zeppelin III.
“Fire in the Hole” is probably the most recognisably “Van Halen-esque” rocker on the album and it might shine brighter for being so alone as standard bearer for the old days.
If I were a die-hard Van Halen fan, from the first album onward, I would probably have been utterly baffled by the “progressive” music here, which might’ve satisfied the inner creative artist in the band members, who relished an opportunity to break away from a stereotype but I can’t see how a hard rock audience would’ve embraced the band going so far out on a limb. The thing is, though the songs are well crafted and the arrangements stellar, they carry little emotional weight and fail to engage the listener deeply and this, for me, is why the record fails.
At 65 minutes, Van Halen III is by far the longest of the studio albums.
I didn’t bother listening to the 2012 “comeback album.” For me, the albums from Van Halen to Van Halen IIIrepresent the canon even if it’s perhaps unfortunate that the band went out on a downer.
I never much cared for Van Halen, from first to last, and binge listening to the albums hasn’t made me change my mind. Women and Children First is still the best, most worthwhile, album and perhaps one can fillet the others to make a decent compilation but even so, the heavy, almost ponderous style of Van Halen’s take on hard rock doesn’t move me, and I don’t care if Eddie van Halen changed rock guitar for ever. Musicians and fans might love his technical ability and ingenuity but his style of virtuoso guitar playing, the so-called “shredding” style that seems to emphasise technique and knowledge of weird chords over emotional, groove playing, is a style I’ve never much liked and have grown to abhor the older I get.
Van Halen must’ve been great fun on stage where loudness and bombast are fundamental elements of the heavy metal show, combined with guitar wizardry, but the studio albums don’t bear close scrutiny, beyond the craft of record making. The songs are ordinary, and the arrangements and intricate instrumental interplay bear the entire weight. Van Halen reached enormous commercial success without ever penning a classic heavy song that’s become a standard, a tune with legs.
