For legion of fans, Eddie van Halen made rock jump
Eddie Van Halen came out of nowhere. Sure, some will tell you about prog rockers or jazz dudes Van Halen pulled from to fuel his style. For me and a million other kids, he came out of nowhere.
Van Halen, who died Tuesday at 65, appeared in full bloom, screaming and spitting fire on “Eruption.” Nothing sounded like his signature instrumental off his band’s 1978 debut record. Nothing. And nothing has since.
I have spent a good chunk of my career trying to describe Eddie’s guitar work. Listening to him make those noises on “Eruption” (or “Atomic Punk” or “Everybody Wants Some!!” or “Mean Streets”), I realized his skills will forever outpace mine. Eddie’s lighting-quick hammer-ons and tremolo dive bombs inspired writers to try to define his sound and guitarists to try to copy it. Mostly, we all failed.
The ultimate Pasadena party band, Van Halen came out of the ’70s marrying slapstick and fury. David Lee Roth played the clown prince full of one-liners and sexed-up moxie; Eddie played his foil by adapting his swagger to match any vibe. You can find wonderful examples of this balancing act on “Van Halen.” The most innovative guitarist of his generation, he uses a simple, restrained and yet monolithic approach on opening track “Runnin’ With the Devil” (there are two solos, both are only eight seconds!).
Listen to “I’m the One” to hear how Ed starts the song like a tornado winding around a stripper pole then has the wisdom to let his guitar drop out of the tune entirely so the band can do some doo wop vocals.
This playful-flirting-with-dangerous, virtuosos-happy-to-slum-it aesthetic made them rock gods. They dominated Top 40 when other heavy bands couldn’t find a foothold on the charts. They added keyboards to their sound — Ed proved to be nearly as talented on keys as guitar — and didn’t lose a fan. They miraculously parted ways with Diamond Dave, rock’s grandest, silliest showman, and minted more platinum with Sammy Hagar. While the songs suffered without Roth, Eddie only stretched his playing (see his range of speed metal to pure pop to chickin’ pickin’ on “OU812”).
Ringing endorsements of his skills came from his elders or those outside his world. Kiss bassist Gene Simmons recruited him for ’70s sessions. Queen guitarist Brian May brought him in to play on solo album “Star Fleet Project.” And of course, Michael Jackson and producer Quincy Jones just had to have Ed for the guitar solo on “Beat It.”
To get his “brown sound,” as he called it, Eddie invented his own instruments. Casual fans think he had one guitar (thanks to his trademark red, white and black striped paint job). But he designed, rewired, re-engineered, built by hand and destroyed with chainsaws a series of guitars from the Frankenstrat to the Shark to the Bumblebee. Turns out to create a unique rumble, you need to create a unique axe.
Some people think of the band as a ball of conflict. But, from the stadium seats, Ed always adored it. Watching the first Roth-reunion tour, he couldn’t stop smiling or playing (during the 10-minute drum solo he sat offstage, guitar unplugged, riffing along to his brother’s playing). Watch the video for “Jump” — or any of the band’s videos. See that wide, bright grin. He’s like a child cannonballing into a pool with a look that says, “Can you believe I can do this? No, I can’t either. Isn’t this rad?”
It was rad. It was also an unbelievable magic trick performed over five decades for a hundred million fans.
from Boston Herald https://ift.tt/3d5cX6J
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