Friends of the Boys: Visiting Jan Van Halen

The home where Eddie and Alex Van Halen grew up in Pasadena, as it looked in 2013. (Photo: Karen Nuremberg Sonner)

By DOUG FOX

Click, snap, clack, pop, clink ...

There's a lot of things that go through a teenager's mind while standing on a doorstep at the house where two burgeoning rocks stars live on the afternoon of their biggest concert to date -- most prevalently, "What in the world are we doing here?"

But the thing I remember most in those nerve-wracking moments between a false-bravado knock and the door opening is the mesmerizing metallic mash-up of a half-dozen locks being manipulated in well-worn sequence on the other side.

Click, snap, clack, pop, clink ...

The date was Oct. 7, 1979 -- 35 years ago today -- and there we were in front of an otherwise nondescript house on Las Lunas Street in Pasadena, California, waiting for the changing of the locks to run its course and the door to finally swing open at the family home of Eddie and Alex Van Halen.

That date is an important one in Van Halen history as it marks the night the four members of the little ol' rock band from Pasadena officially became masters of their Southern California domain, musically speaking -- headlining their first show, a sellout at that, at the L.A. Forum in Inglewood.

Everyone who has ever dreamed of being a rock star has probably pictured the scene in their mind of performing at the preeminent concert venue in their home market. In Southern California in the 1970s, that place was the Forum -- or as it was more commonly referred to, the Fabulous Forum or "The House that Jack (Kent Cooke) Built."

The Forum may primarily have been the home of the Los Angeles Lakers, but the reigning rock bands of the day held court there as well. Led Zeppelin, the Rolling Stones, Elton John, Peter Frampton, Queen and the Eagles all sold out multiple-date runs at the venerable venue during a period when maxing out even one show was a sign that you had made it in the rock world. The prestige of headlining the Forum was certainly not lost on the four members of Van Halen, as they themselves had attended major concerts there as rock fans growing up in SoCal.

So what was it that brought four increasingly timid-by-the-second teenagers -- Curtis Edwards, Bob Sebesta, Mat Yeates and myself -- to the conclusion that visiting the humble Van Halen homestead eight hours or so before the band's impending homecoming coronation was somehow a good idea?

Funny you should ask ...

They Really Got Me

My own evolution as a Van Halen fan has been religiously documented before -- from the slack-jawed amazement of hearing "Eruption" for the first time to the life-changing experience of seeing the "bastard sons of a thousand maniacs" (as they were introduced on stage in the early days) in concert for the first time. That first concert experience -- occurring in Logan, Utah, on March 31, 1979 -- came in the initial week of the Van Halen II tour, the band's first headlining jaunt. The triumphant show at the Forum was just over six months later -- and, fittingly, it marked the tour's closing night.

That intervening half year served to cement my allegiance as a VH lifer -- the band was just different than anything I'd previously heard or seen. I don't suppose my experience is all that different from millions of other fans who -- whether they were struck by Eddie Van Halen's otherworldly guitar wizardry, David Lee Roth's vocal swagger and outsized personality, Michael Anthony's enthusiastic bass thumping and general class act-dom, Alex Van Halen's sheer power and technique behind the drums, or simply wowed by the collective talents of all four in one explosive entity -- flocked to the VH bandwagon in ever-increasing numbers.

So as to not tread too much on past writings, you can read a lot more about that Logan show, not to mention see some pretty fantastic photos from that night in "My Introduction to the Mighty Van Halen." Near the end of that blog post, which was written three and a half years ago, I mentioned our visit to the Van Halen home on the afternoon of their Forum debut, and said, "Ah, but that's a story for another day."

That day, as it turns out, is today.

I've told the story of stopping by the Van Halen home to various friends and acquaintances over the years, and sometimes it has grown in the retelling. I realized this a few years back when, while backstage at a concert, I overheard another one of my friends telling the story to a third party. "Yeah, and then Mr. Van Halen invited them in for a visit," I heard him say.

A few minutes later I pulled my friend aside and said, "You know that didn't really happen like that, right?"

He laughed and said, "You should let me tell the story -- I tell it better than you! The next time I tell it, I will have you sitting on the couch with your feet up on the coffee table while eating chocolate cake!"

Before that happens, I thought it best to get the story in writing and clear up a few minor embellishments I may have made on my own over the years.

Atomic Punks

I grew up in Southern California, but our family moved to Utah in the summer of 1978, right after I graduated high school. Thankfully, I had caught the sonic wave of Van Halen earlier that summer a few months after the release of Van Halen I when the band broke through on L.A. radio.

Jumping forward to the fall of 1979, I was planning a return trip to Los Angeles to visit close friends from my high school years. Looking over the concert schedule, I noticed the Van Halen Forum show and immediately settled on vacation dates surrounding what I knew would be a memorable concert. However, when we attempted to actually get tickets for the show, my friends and I discovered it was already sold out. We then looked into tickets for the San Diego show the night before, it turned out that those were long gone as well.

As I recall, we checked into obtaining tickets through one of the many second-hand ticket agencies -- but they were out of our price range. I kick myself now -- considering that those out-of-range tickets were probably only listed for $25-$30, which, of course, is a comically low amount by today's standards. But it seemed like too much for a 19-year-old on a limited budget at the time.

Sometime in the previous months, a friend, also a VH fan, who worked for a record label in Los Angeles, mentioned having come across the band members' home addresses and phone numbers through inter-label work contacts.

Somehow, in the way only a late-teenage mind can think, the combination of us not having tickets to the Forum show and my having access to the band members' addresses brainstormed into the idea of actually stopping by the Van Halen household in Pasadena, which was maybe 20 minutes away from where we were staying in La Crescenta. With the show being in L.A., and the band having played San Diego that night before, so our thought process figured, there might be a decent shot that Eddie and Alex would be home visiting their family that afternoon. Admittedly it was a harebrained idea, concocted by pie-in-the-sky dreamers who thought maybe, just maybe, there was a small, outside chance that we would be rewarded for our creative enthusiasm with extra tickets to the show or at least come away with a good story to tell.

As it turned out, it was the latter.

One Foot in the Door

So it was that the four of us piled into a car and drove to Pasadena that sunny Sunday afternoon of October 7 with an address and a map. We were in high spirits to begin with, but the closer we got to our intended location, the more the absurdity of our intended mission began to settle in on us like stink on a monkey. (I've always wanted to say that!)

The alley behind the old Van Halen home. (Karen Nuremberg Sonner)

We found the house, located in what appeared to be a quiet working-class neighborhood, and executed a slow drive-by just to check it out. By this time, of course, our previous happy-go-lucky attitude had completely deserted us, giving way to nervous anticipation.

We noticed a back alleyway, and as a further delay tactic we drove around there to check things out from that angle. Counting down the number of houses from the corner, we looked into the back yard and noticed a boat -- which seemed out of place in comparison to the rest of the neighborhood. "That's it!" I confirmed, immediately remembering a Circus magazine interview months earlier where Eddie mentioned that the first big purchase he and Alex really made when the "Van Halen II" album and tour headliner money started rolling in was a boat for their father.

And ... there ... it ... was.

The garage where Eddie and Alex honed their craft. (Karen N. Sonner)

 There was also a small garage/shed structure at the back right corner of the yard. We didn't fully realize it at the time -- I mean, even we could not have projected the band's eventual Hall of Fame trajectory at that point -- but that little structure is somewhat of a musical mecca for hard rock fans, and a Graceland of sorts for guitar aficionados.

It was there where the Van Halen brothers not only honed their chops -- and, I imagine, annoyed a fair share of their neighbors -- with hours of jamming, but also where Eddie had brought his iconic black-and-white-striped red Frankenstein guitar to life six months earlier. Music and technique developed in that humble structure would go on to shake the very foundation of rock, not to mention the walls of arenas and stadiums around the world.

Having put off the inevitable as long as possible, or so we thought, we drove back around to the front and parked several houses up the street. We got out of the car and began a slow walk down the sidewalk toward the Van Halens' home. It was at that point that our nerves entirely left us.

Somewhere in our plodding journey to the front door, there was a short retaining wall/ledge that we all sat down on for several minutes, trying to gain our wits and build up the confidence to actually go through with our mission. We nearly called the whole thing off right then and there, but we finally pep-talked ourselves back into action, stood up and headed on the pathway leading to the door.

You know how there's always those few moments after you knock, especially if you are cold calling and your visit is unexpected, where you listen intently trying to discern any movement inside? I'm sure at that moment we were all hoping to hear nothing but silence throughout the house. That sensation had us on edge, but gave way to near panic when we heard the locks begin turning.

Click, snap, clack, pop, clink ...

We had no idea who would be on the other side of the door, but when it swung open it revealed Jan Van Halen, the VH family patriarch.

We could not have been any more awkward.

"Are Eddie and Alex home?" one of us stammered.

Our immediate impression was that Mr. Van Halen was slightly perturbed -- and believe me, looking back on the whole thing over the years, he had every right to be.

"No," he said bluntly.

Our whole encounter could have ended right there as we were more than ready to immediately slink back to our car, feeling like we'd just been denied entry to see the Wizard of Oz.

But then everything changed with one question and answer.

"Are you friends of the boys?" he asked.

"Of course!" I found myself blurting out with very little thought. I mean, what were we supposed to say? "No, we're just idiot fans who thought we'd stop by your home for a visit on one of the most important days your family will ever see in the hopes we might impress you enough that you'll offer us some extra tickets?"

Whether he believed us or not -- and as unlikely as it seems, he must have -- Mr. Van Halen's whole demeanor changed in an instant. All of a sudden he was warm, friendly and thoroughly engaging.

Details of the rest of our 4- to 5-minute conversation have faded from memory except for one specific exchange, which, to me, really showed the elder Van Halen's personality.

We explained how we thought that with the Forum show being that night, and the band having been on the road for months, that there would have been a good chance that his sons would have been home visiting that afternoon.

"You would think!" he said, letting out a big laugh and shaking his head with exaggerated sarcasm as he went on a playful mini-rant. "The boys never come by here anymore!"

I think that part of the conversation has stayed with me because it proved so painfully poignant. Here was a man who was a professional musician himself, on the cusp of seeing his two sons validated in grand fashion with a sold-out show at the Forum, yet it was obvious that he also missed having them around. His sarcastic overplaying of the comment showed his humor and acceptance of the circumstances, but couldn't completely mask the truthfulness of it either.

After offering our best wishes for that night and bidding farewell, we started back down the path. Following a few moments of relieved silence, one of my friends burst out, "Whoa! Did you see all the gold records on the wall?"

The other two animatedly answered in the affirmative. "Man, that was cool!"

Previously when telling this story, I have always mentioned seeing all the gold records on the wall. But here's the deal. I never saw them. Not a single one. But my other three friends had, so I simply co-opted their eye-witnesses into my own account.

I felt a tad bit cheated. The original "Van Halen" debut was an album that changed my life and forever altered my musical listening habits. How cool would it have been to see the official gold record commemorating it -- not to mention many others apparently -- hanging on the wall of two people who actually created it?

For most of the past 35 years, I have asked myself, "How in the world could I have missed seeing those records?" In my memory, I can still see past Mr. Van Halen and onto the main front room wall. But no gold or platinum records.

It wasn't until I asked my friends for their memories of the visit a year or so ago that I finally figured it out. I had always assumed we shared similar sight lines. That proved to be inaccurate. The gold records, they said, were lining the walls of a hallway to the right, and not those in the front room to the left. The angle of the partially closed door must have blocked that view for me.

It felt good to have some closure on a question that had always bothered me regarding our visit. But I still wish I'd personally seen them.

The view from the street of the gated Roth mansion in 2013. (Karen Nuremberg Sonner)

Somebody Get Me the Doctor

Emboldened by what we viewed as a pretty positive experience at the Van Halen abode, we did the next obvious thing -- and pulled out David Lee Roth's address. His home address was also listed in Pasadena, so we figured why not give it a try since we were already in the area?

The Roths and Van Halens were only separated by about 5 miles in distance, but their separate ways were worlds apart. Where the Van Halens lived in a nondescript, regular home, the Roth compound was a huge, mostly unapproachable mansion.

There was a gardener on a nearby part of the sprawling property, so we sent one of our party over to chat him up. That effort was pretty much foiled when it became apparent the gardener only spoke broken English.

"What happened?" we asked when our friend returned to the car.

"I asked him if David Lee Roth was home," he said. "And he said, 'Dr. Roth?'

"And I said, 'No, David Lee Roth.' And he shook his head and said, 'No. Dr. Roth not home.' "

That was that. Besides, we figured if the Van Halen brothers were too busy to stop by their home base on the day of the show, the chances that Roth would be setting up Club Dave at his dad's mansion were slim to shady.

Michael Anthony's home address was listed in Monrovia, which was a bit of a distance away. Based on the intel we had received from our first two stops, we figured he wouldn't be home either. So, we left well enough alone, and recognized our visit with Jan Van Halen as the rare opportunity it was, and the clear highlight of our Sunday-afternoon-on-a-lark adventure.

Heard About It Later

Sometime in February or March of 1994, I was driving home following a late-night shift on the sports desk at the newspaper where I still work. Being completely wound up from deadlines and knowing I'd be unable to sleep for several hours still, I stopped by a 24-hour supermarket to peruse the magazines.

My eyes immediately settled on a magazine cover featuring a dynamic live shot of a young Eddie Van Halen in classic soloing pose with his guitar neck pointing toward the heavens while playing his "Bumblebee" guitar during the VH II tour. It turned out to be a Best of Guitar Player special edition, devoted entirely to Van Halen and included text from several previously unpublished interviews by Jas Obrecht culled from the band's early years.

Arriving home after buying the magazine, I settled into bed and began reading (and reading and reading ... ) the unpublished interviews section. Eighteen pages in, I read something that literally made me sit up in bed with a start.

I read it over and over, continually running the comment and its ramifications through my mind to make sure I wasn't misunderstanding something.

In this previously unpublished interview, from late December 1979, Eddie was talking about two new guitars he'd purchased and the dilemma he faced in where to store them.

"Right now, I'm trying to figure out where to keep them," he said, "because when we played the Forum, my mom and dad came. And when my mom came home, the house got ripped off for about 20 gold and platinum albums."

That's screwed up, he continued, "because playing the Forum is like a dream come true. I've seen everyone play there. It was a hell of an event for me, and I come home and the back door is smashed in and all the records are gone. It's such a drag."

I couldn't believe what I was reading. Were we literally some of the very last people to see those records on the wall before they were stolen? At that point, I had to remind myself that I hadn't actually seen them. (Thanks, self!)

But still ... our experience, I figured, gave us a unique empathy for the personal nature of that loss.

Having stood on the front porch of that home hours before the landmark show and having personally felt a father's excitement and seen the pride in his eyes first-hand -- in a weird way, I, too, felt sucker-punched by the turn of events following that first Forum concert, even though I was learning about it more than 14 years later.

To this day, I still ask myself, "I wonder what happened to those records?"

Postscript: Your Last Loose End

It's cool to me how the events of that day tend to keep on giving as the years go by.

For example, in a Facebook conversation with a high school friend several years ago, she randomly dropped the nugget that her father had sold Eddie and Alex Van Halen a boat for their father.

I'm sure she was surprised when I mentioned having actually seen the boat in person.

Vicki Adams Dorosy said she remembers the day her dad came home saying how impressed he'd been with two young musicians who had stopped into his Sportsmen's Paradise shop in Monrovia wanting to buy an ocean-going fishing boat (a Grady Little) for their father with their first big paycheck -- and then he wondered if any of his kids had ever heard of a band called Van Halen. (They had.)

Jan Van Halen died in 1986 at the age of 66. The minutes we actually spent being entertained by him back in 1979 may have been few indeed, but it provided enough of a window into his personality to say the impression perfectly jibes with the popular stories most Van Halen fans know of him.

Like the time he passed the hat around the audience while his young sons performed but only gave them a portion of the collected funds. When Eddie and Alex asked what happened to the rest of the money, the elder Van Halen responded, "Welcome to the music business!"

I can also see the man who gave Eddie his first shot of vodka and first cigarette at the age of 12 in an effort to help calm his nerves before performing, yet unknowingly turning him on to a pair of vices that would rob him of many prime years of productivity while battling addiction.

But mostly I can see the man who some eight hours or so after we'd met him was reduced to tears sitting at a monitor board at the Forum while watching Eddie perform his extended guitar solo before 18,000 adoring fans.

"He was so proud," Eddie would tell me later when I asked about that night.

Yeah, I would eventually meet Eddie and Alex Van Halen -- some 15 years and 348 days after I'd met their father.

Ah, but that's a story for another day.

Note: This article is dedicated to Curtis Edwards, Bob Sebesta, Mat Yeates, Ted "Theodore" Logan and Bill S. Preston, Esq. -- my fellow excellent adventurers.

'A Different Kind of Truth' sets Van Halen fans free

Back in the late 1970s and early 80s when Eddie Van Halen was constantly rewriting prevailing wisdom on what people presumed possible to achieve on electric guitar, he used to describe his playing approach as falling down the stairs and landing on his feet.

Applying that same analogy to “A Different Kind of Truth,” Van Halen’s first studio album with lead singer David Lee Roth in 28 years, it sounds like Eddie should update the status of his guitar acrobatics to sliding down the banister, dismounting with a front pike somersault and sticking a perfect landing at the bottom.

As far as classic Van Halen fans are concerned, “A Different Kind of Truth” – pound for pound, perhaps the heaviest VH record ever -- constitutes several giant steps in the right direction.

From the opening guitar growl of "Tattoo” to the sustained 30-plus seconds where he slowly wrings every last bit of fuzz and distortion out of his instrument to close “Beats Workin’,” “A Different Kind of Truth” expertly testifies that Eddie has once again taken his guitar playing “Back to the Future.”

There was a reason, after all, that when Marty McFly needed some serious guitar mojo to forcefully frighten his father into critical action during the popular 1985 Michael J. Fox flick that he did so with a cassette tape labeled “Edward Van Halen.” In its original incarnation, Van Halen always did tend to scare parents while unabashedly encouraging the young at heart to become “Unchained” and “Hot For Teacher” or simply to “Dance the Night Away.”

Classic Van Halen was quite literally a glimpse into rock’s future, as nearly every new album contained at least one reinventing-the-instrument guitar moment. Think “Eruption,” “Spanish Fly,” the “Mean Street” intro, “Cathedral,” and “Little Guitars Intro,” not to mention any number of “How-in-the-world-did-he-do-that?” in-song solos that routinely sent guitarists worldwide scurrying back to the woodshed to learn at the frets of Professor Van Halen.

And sometimes the guitarist trying to learn what the younger Van Halen did was the guitar god himself. When I had the opportunity to interview him in 1998 during the course of the Van Halen III tour where the band was playing a lot of Roth-era songs that hadn’t been played in more than 15 years, Eddie told me that relearning a part of 1978’s “I’m the One” had given him fits.

“It sure blew my mind -- I didn’t realize how much my playing has changed over the years,” he said. “You know, it’s an unconscious thing, but there’s a lick in the beginning that I’m going, ‘Man, how in the hell did I do that?’ And it took me a while to learn.”

“A Different Kind of Truth” is literally Van Halen relearning, revisiting and reclaiming its legacy as the greatest American rock band of all time. Much has been written about the band going back into the vaults and revamping up to seven old demos -- many of them from the unreleased recording sessions financed by KISS bassist Gene Simmons prior to the band’s official debut with Warner Brothers.

While that approach may indeed seem at odds with conventional wisdom, just ask yourself this question: When has Van Halen ever done anything by the book? From a listener’s standpoint, I couldn’t care less if the smoking guitar riffs that billow throughout “A Different Kind of Truth” were written last century, last year or last night. The simple truth is there remains nothing else quite like it in music today.

When discussing “A Different Kind of Truth,” there is no getting around the chip off the old block in the room. As Roth declared during the band’s 2007-08 tour, this edition of Van Halen is three parts original, one part inevitable. The latter half of the equation refers to the addition of Eddie’s son, Wolfgang (21 next month), on bass, following the subtraction of Michael Anthony.

Clearly, Anthony, who had remained a member of the band through all three of its previous lineups, was popular and extremely fan-friendly. His onstage exuberance and background vocal abilities are missed. However, it’s quite likely that were it not for Wolfgang, there would have been no reunion with Roth, no new tours and no new music. The potential to play with his son was likely the main impetus that led Eddie back to rehab, back to the stage and, eventually, back into the studio for the new recording sessions after years of band inactivity – sans a somewhat disastrous reunion tour with second-singer Sammy Hagar in 2004. In that respect, it’s hard to begrudge father and son this unprecedented opportunity.

Yeah, but can he play? The proof is in the creme brulee. Wolfgang is not only locked in step with his uncle, drummer Alex Van Halen, but he adds his own little flourishes throughout the entire record and holds up the bottom end with aplomb. The kid is more than all right. And the rhythm section on this entire record is off-the-rails powerful.

The typical sign of a great album from an established band is if there are three or four tracks that you would want to see in concert. Let’s just say I would be ecstatic if the band played the entire record from top to bottom’s up. Track by track, and there are a blazing baker’s dozen of them, this album ranks right up with the band’s best work.

Here’s my song-by-song breakdown:

“Tattoo” -- The diehard Van Halen camp has not been so split over the merits of a lead single since the release of “Jump.” Half the fanbase seems to love it, while the other half loathes it. I fall into the former group. While it did initially raise some red flags with those who hoped the band would return to its hard rock roots, those fears would prove to be completely unfounded. When the initial reviews started filtering out in advance of the album’s release, I scoffed when many claimed “Tattoo” was the worst song on the record. I now hear their point. I still love the song, with Dave’s lyrical imagery and Eddie’s guitar solo making it already better than most anything else on the radio today. I also like the subtle keyboard in the verse -- the only spot on the album where any keys are apparent — and the “Down in Flames/You’re No Good” volume swell ending.

Favorite lyric: “Swap meet Sally, tramp stamp tat, mousewife to momshell in the time it took to get that new tattoo.”

“She’s the Woman” -- While “Tattoo” hints of “Down in Flames,” this is the first track that draws heavily from an earlier demo. Same title and music, completely different lyrics. While on the subject of lyrics, I’ve got to give it up to Roth here. It’s incredible having his gift of gab and wink-and-a-nod sense of humor back in play. This song is a perfect example. The last Hagar-attempted lusty love song with the band was the wholly unappetizing “Up For Breakfast,” and its line upon line of third-grade fruit metaphors (“Cherries on bananas ... honeydew my melon”? Seriously? Gag me with a prune!) But with Dave we get lines like “suburban garage a trois” and “I want to be your knight in shining pickup truck.” Upbeat and fast-paced, this track features a funky feel and Eddie’s trademark between-vocal guitar fills and squeals. This song also answers all questions about Wolfgang’s bass abilities.

Favorite lyric: “The song ain’t dirty it’s really just the way we sing it.” (Reminds me of the famous Jessica Rabbit line from “Who Framed Roger Rabbit?”: “I’m not bad, I’m just drawn that way.”)

“You and Your Blues” -- At this point in time, I can’t get enough of this song. A syncopated Eddie riff sets the mood and carries the song for the first 15 seconds before Alex and Wolfgang join in mid-first verse. I’m probably not recognizing them all, but Dave name checks at least nine different blues songs in the lyrics. This is Van Halen-style blues, in that you don’t get pulled to a darker, somber place while commiserating with the lyrical point of view. Instead, the upbeat chorus lifts your spirits even while it hammers home the suffering viewpoint. The background vocals also stand out -- checking off another question lingering from Anthony’s departure. I could see this as a potential single.

Favorite lyric: “Ain’t goin’ down to no crossroads, ain’t gonna dust no broom, no evil woman’s got a hold on me, ain’t goin’ to heaven anytime soon.”

“China Town” -- This is as heavy a song as Van Halen has ever recorded. It’s 3 minutes and 12 seconds of pure adrenaline. If you could somehow bottle this, you could put Red Bull and Rockstar out of business. Alex’s drumming throughout this breakneck pace is incredible. Looking for your mind-blowing guitar moment of this album? Check out the last 12 seconds of the song -- as Eddie unleashes a free-falling torrent of notes that just make you shake your head and say, “Wow!” I would love to see the band open its new tour -- which as I write this opens tonight in Louisville -- with this song. Besides, how can you not love a song that begins with the line, “Headless body in a topless bar”?

Favorite lyric: “Heroes aren’t born they’re cornered, and this corner is where we write the story.”

“Blood and Fire” -- Longtime Van Halen fans recognize the main music motif in this song as “Ripley,” an instrumental written by Eddie when he scored the soundtrack to “The Wild Life,” a 1984 movie by Cameron Crowe. Fans have always wondered what it could turn into with lyrics and the full band treatment. Now they know. Lyrically, with its talk of “forgotten empires” and “lost victories long past,” it seems to be an autobiographical nod to the band’s history. Dave even inserts his trademark concert exclamation of “Look at all of the people here tonight!” Speaking of trademarks, this marks the first of several standard spoken mid-song slowdowns (think “Everybody Wants Some!,” “Unchained” and “Panama”) with Dave breaking down the third wall and talking directly to the listener. “Told ya I was coming back. Say you missed me. Say it like you mean it.” The transition from spoken word to over-the-top guitar solo still gives me goosebumps, even after a couple dozen listens. I kind of feel like rating Eddie’s guitar solos is a bit like judging Michael Jordan’s dunks in that even his average takes are on such a higher plane than the competition it’s almost unfair. It’s mostly futile to compare Eddie to others, he’s best compared only to himself. With that in mind, this solo stands up to some of his best work.

Favorite lyric: “Look at all of the people here tonight.” (This line never ceases to put a smile on my face.)

“Bullethead” – So far, I have a real love/like relationship with this song. When I’m scanning the songs on the disc, it’s never one of my first choices to listen to. Yet, when it does come on, invariably I enjoy it. With its blast-from-the-gates guitar squeal, this is another blistering rocker. Musically, it dates back to the Simmons demo, but with new lyrics, albeit the same title. Personally, I place it toward the bottom of this album, but I know many others who rate it near the top. This album tends to invite that very rare phenomenon where opinions are across the board on what the best songs are. I’ve read hundreds of comments, from professional reviews to message boards, listing the best and worst songs on the album, and someone’s treasure is another’s throwaway track. To me, that’s actually the sign of a very good album.

Favorite lyric: “How many roads must a man walk down, before he admits he’s lost?”

 “As Is” -- This song is just a monster! I remember Eddie saying once that before there were lyrics to “Me Wise Magic” he referred to the song as “The Three Faces of Shamus” because of its trio of distinct musical sections. In that case, this song might as well be called “The Five Faces of Shamus” for its handful of abrupt turns and changes of pace. Alex kicks things off with an 18-second drum intro before Eddie and Wolfgang join in, and just when you’re settling into what you expect to be the main groove it all turns upside down with what turns out to really be the song’s main riff. Discerning fans will recognize a striking similarity in the predominant riff to the explosion-of-jam moment he played during his walk-on appearance of “Two and a Half Men” in 2009. (On the show, that was given the tongue-in-cheek title of “Two Burritos and a Root Beer Float.”) Everybody is just firing on all cylinders throughout the song before eventually settling into an ethereal rideout section that eerily endures for more than a minute. Great, great song.

Favorite lyric: “It's not who you squeeze, but who returns once again to squeeze you no doubt, love ’em all I says, let Cupid sort ’em out.”

“Honeybabysweetiedoll” -- There is so much going on musically in this song that I’m still finding amazing things in it with each new playback. It opens up with 30 seconds of guitar wankery and weird sound effects. The main segment is a roiling undertow of a riff that pulls you in and relentlessly pummels you before finally releasing you exhausted at song’s end. Dave handles most of this song in a lower register, half singing, half speaking his way through. The final minute and a half is all instrumental and features a furious solo by Eddie and some guitar playing that has a surprising Mideastern flair.

Favorite lyric: “Stone soul sistah soccer mom, muchacha-miga, cherry bomb.”

“The Trouble With Never” -- Another top flight song that could be a potential single. There’s much to like about this song, from its main verse and chorus to the couple “Alice in Wonderland” references and some nice backing vocals. But my favorite section of the song is the middle, which features a more-than-a-minute-and-a-half departure from the proceedings. It kicks off with a killer, wah-induced guitar solo lasting 45 seconds before easing into another classic Dave-speak breakdown that sets up a thundering reverie before returning to the original chorus. Amazing!

Favorite lyric: “Let’s un-plan the moment, dance the night away, selective amnesia is only a heartbeat away.”

“Outta Space” -- The backstretch of this album is just unbelievable. There is no let-up and no filler. It’s undoubtedly buoyed because three of the final four songs are revamped from a trio of all-time demo favorites -- their explosive main riffs having lost none of their power in the intervening 35-plus years, and, in fact, even gaining more of an edge in the hands of a battle-tested and –scarred Eddie.This song is based on “Let’s Get Rockin’ ” and is flat-out stellar as Dave updates it with his take on overpopulation and political correctness.

Favorite lyric: “Need no polar bear to scare me, no Eskimo to share with me his fate, woo, we outta space. No blog-o-sphere to sell me, no dolphin needs to tell me, no starving kid to make the case.”

“Stay Frosty” -- If “Stay Frosty” weren’t poised to become the catchphrase of 2012 -- Dave Grohl of the Foo Fighters has already chanted it like a mantra -- then you could call this “Son of Ice Cream Man.” Completely different song, of course, but the formula is the same -- the only thing missing is Dave dedicating one to the ladies and a hearty “All right, boys!” before the song ramps up from acoustic to power-based boogie blues. Dave’s storytelling talents are in fine form here, transporting the listener on a journey to various religious leaders who offer sage advice along the lines of: “Don’t want them to get your goat, don’t show ’em where it’s hid” and “You want to be a monk, you’ve got to cook a lot of rice.” There are not one, but two high-octane guitar solos, and Alex and Wolfgang keep up the oft-frenetic pace.

Favorite lyric: “Stay Frosty, and there's nothing you can’t handle, far and wide, far as you ramble, trust in Allah, but tie up your camel.”

“Big River” -- Reworked from a fan-favorite demo titled “Big Trouble,” this is another amazing song. It’s almost redundant at this point: The musicianship on here is first-rate. Great catchy tune, with a pair of mind-numbing guitar solos.

Favorite lyric: “Listen to a sea shell, you can hear the sea, listen to a beer glass, that river belongs to me.”

“Beats Workin’ ” -- Top to bottom, this is one of my favorite songs on the album -- a potential party rock anthem for the new generation. Opening with a 45-second setup, the song receives a complete jolt when the extremely catchy main riff (originally from the demo “Put Out the Lights”) explodes onto the scene. This song is vintage Van Halen. Great vocals, blazing guitar with three solos, great backing vocals, heart-thumping rhythms. Not only does this make a great closing number, especially with its exaggerated fadeout, it would also make a fantastic single.

Favorite lyric: “One empty floor, stands between the stage, and the welfare door, heads or tails, of the same bread, coin of the realm, just like the man said.”

In summation: Forget all the infamous backbiting, sniping and animosity between various members throughout the decades. Forgive the years and years of wasted time and lost opportunities. Throw the “No news is good news” slogan to the wind.

Trust your ears. This is the exactly the type of “Truth” that can set long-suffering Van Halen fans free.

After a couple dozen listens, my fur-rising factor rates “A Different Kind of Truth” on a nearly equal hallowed plane as “Van Halen I” and “Fair Warning” -- my two personal favorites based on 35 years of utmost fascination with this little old band from Pasadena.

Ultimately, only time will tell if it stands the test of ...

(Editor’s note: The breakdown segment in “Mean Street” just struck this poor boy down ... )

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My Introduction to the Mighty Van Halen

This photo captures the raw exuberance of a young David Lee Roth. While innocence is not a word you would normally associate with Van Halen, there was a “the-world’s-at-our-fingertips” vibe at the Logan show. Everyone should have the opportunity at least once to catch a great band in the early phases of its career.
All photos by Mitch Hancock from March 31, 1979, in Logan, Utah.

I've had Van Halen -- a group I first saw in concert 32 years ago this past week -- on the brain a lot recently.

It is pretty common knowledge that the group is in the studio recording a new studio album with original frontman David Lee Roth. This is a gift not taken lightly by Van Halen fans. It's been 27 years since the band's last full studio album with Roth (1984's "MCMLXXXIV"), 13 years since the band's last full studio record with any singer (1998's "3" with Gary Cherone), and seven years since any new music of any kind (three new reunion songs with second singer Sammy Hagar in 2004).

So, clearly, I've had plenty of time in between albums -- not to mention frequent personnel changes and years of utter silence -- to question my devotion to this little old band from Pasadena. Besides just the fantastic music, I've determined that a lot of it goes back to my initial introduction to the band.

There are moments of clarity in every person’s life that are ingrained in one’s memory so completely as to almost be imprinted on the DNA.

Most people, for example, can tell you exactly where they were and what they were doing when world-altering events occurred.

Personally, I find that this phenomenon also happens with music. I have always tended to mark specific instances and periods of life based on certain songs and when I first heard them.

But nothing quite prepared me for that day in the summer of 1978 when my musical theory received relativity.

Living in Southern California at the time, the local hard rock radio stations of the day had been playing a trio of songs from an L.A. band that had just released its debut record. There was something about those three songs that seemed to force my hand — as if drawn by a tractor beam — toward the stereo’s volume dial, where a quick right turn would raise things to a more enjoyable level.

Eruption: A classic Eddie Van Halen guitar solo pose.

The songs in question were “Ain’t Talkin’ ’Bout Love,” “You Really Got Me” and “Runnin’ With the Devil.” The band was Van Halen — and life as I knew it was about to change.

I remember clearly the day my brother and I drove down to the local record store to purchase the cassette tape of this much-buzzed-about new band. Being the sensible older brother, I hedged my bets by allowing him to buy it — figuring that if I ended up not really liking the rest of it, at least I wouldn’t have risked my own hard-earned money on what was still a largely unknown entity. It turned out to be the best $5 I never spent. (Don’t worry. I would later plop down money, most willingly, for the vinyl album and remastered CD.)

 Leaving the record store, we pushed the tape in the car stereo, turned up the volume and headed for home. The short drive from Foothill Boulevard up Lowell Avenue in La Crescenta only used up one song, and we were just pulling into the garage as opening track “Runnin’ With the Devil” came to its fiery conclusion.

And that’s when the future officially arrived — and it was named “Eruption.”

The plan was to pop the tape out and continue listening inside the house, but the second song had just started and neither one of us could even remotely fathom reaching for the eject button.

To be quite honest, we weren’t exactly sure what we were hearing during that initial listen. A torrent of notes exploded out of the left speaker at a dizzying rate as we looked at each other in slack-jawed amazement and wondered aloud whether what we heard was accomplished on synthesizer or guitar.

And while I didn’t know exactly what I was hearing, I recognized that the music landscape as I knew it was changing before my very ears.

As it turned out, what we were experiencing was a 1-minute-and-42-second explosion of jam that changed guitar playing forever and signaled the arrival of a new six-string sheriff: Eddie Van Halen.

David Lee Roth in the days before spandex and seatless chaps

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Later that summer, our family moved to Utah where, in a shocking surprise, the mention of Van Halen resulted in nothing more than dumbfounded stares — as the band had yet to break on Salt Lake City radio stations. However, once I started attending college in the fall, I was back in familiar territory, as Van Halen was a big favorite among those on our dorm floor, since most of my new acquaintances were students from out of state. Well, all of them that is except a longtime friend from California, Mat Yeates.

It was late in our freshman year (March 1979) that we heard a radio ad for a Van Halen concert at Utah State University in Logan — about two hours north of Provo, where we were going to school. But we were undeterred. I remember Mat and I being elected to drive up and procure the tickets — for our group of eight or so who wanted to attend. On the day before tickets were to go on sale, Mat and I drove up to Logan to camp out for the best seats. When we got there, we were first in line. Well, basically, we were the entire line — as nobody else was there. We sat there for a couple hours — no doubt talking about Mat’s love for the band Legs Diamond, some band he was always pimping as the next big thing — before somebody showed up at the ticket office, which is when they informed us that there had been a problem at the ticket printer's, and that they had been forced to postpone all ticket sales.

The tickets did eventually go on sale a few days later, and we scored some sweet seats on the seventh row on the floor. We were pumped.

Van Halen II was released on March 23 — so we had eight days to familiarize ourselves with the new material before the show. I can still picture walking into the quaint locally owned record store -- Remember those? -- near campus and hearing "Light Up the Sky" for the first time playing over the loudspeakers as the shop owner was spinning the new disc.

Michael Anthony performs his bass solo before leading into "You're No Good."

March 31 finally arrived and the weather was terrible. I recall making the couple hours drive to the show through a torrential downpour.

The support act that night was a band called the Granati Brothers. Never heard of them? Neither had we. They jumped out on stage in their poodle-boy hairdos. That’s pretty much all I remember about their set — although a couple years back I did run across a couple of news stories out of Pennsylvania (Motto: Home of the Granatis) where they reminisced about how they had remained friends with the Van Halens for years after that tour. But I digress.

A young Eddie Van Halen took guitar playing into the future.

I have never stood on the tarmac behind a 747 when it takes off, but it can’t be unlike the experience of seeing Van Halen open a concert. The sheer power of “Light Up the Sky” erupting from the amplifiers as Van Halen took the stage was an experience to behold. What a complete rush! It was a show unlike anything I had ever seen prior to that. There was the technical wizardry of Eddie Van Halen on guitar, offset by the exaggerated macho posing, high-pitched wails and animated song intros of frontman David Lee Roth. There was action all over the stage, augmented by Michael Anthony pounding on his bass and Alex Van Halen on drums (he even set the big gong behind him on fire at the end of the show). It was powerful. It was funny. It was completely over the top. And I loved every minute of it.

The best analogy I can come up with to describe the experience is to compare it to the pivotal scene in the movie "Back to the Future" where everyone is at the "Enchantment Under the Sea" dance and, as a member of the band, Marty McFly starts riffing on Chuck Berry before falling down on the stage and playing a cacophony of lead guitar notes, leaving everyone in the audience with stunned looks on their faces. (Is it a coincidence that earlier in the film, when Marty plays music from the future to frighten his father into asking his mother out, that the tape is labeled "Van Halen"? I think not.) Van Halen was ahead of its time -- both musically and from a stage-show standpoint.

One recollection I wish I had, but can't pull out of the memory banks, was whether or not Eddie played his infamous "Shark" guitar that night. He was using it on select songs throughout that tour, so chances are good that he used it at our show as well. The "Shark" guitar is an Ibanez Explorer that Eddie — a noted tinkerer in search of the perfect "brown sound" tone, as has been evidenced over the years with all his developments in guitar-related products and even his own line of guitars — took a chain saw to, drastically altering its appearance and sound. The cut-out chunk gave the guitar a slight Jaws-esque appearance, which led to its moniker. Of course, I didn't begin becoming familiar with his guitar collection until several years down the road, so it would not have resonated with me that evening. Still, that particular guitar has always fascinated me — it just looks cool — and it nags at me that I might have seen it played and just not realized it at the time.

There is a bit of a mystery involving that Logan show. To this day, the Logan concert — Van Halen’s first live appearance in Utah — does not show up on any of the band’s archived tour lists. I heard a rumor several years back, supposedly emanating from a former member of the band’s road crew from back then, that due to some bet, for some reason Alex Van Halen said the band would never acknowledge that tour date. (I can’t vouch for the source, but it is strange that the date remains unlisted.)

Surf is up, Eddie: Let's see the Granati Brothers do this!

On a ridiculous note, a few years ago I read a review of that show written in the Utah State University student newspaper. The reviewer waxed poetic about how this great new band had graced the USU stage and was sure to be the next big thing in rock music. Unfortunately, he was talking about the Granati Brothers. He completely dismissed Van Halen. (Rock critics ... sigh ... what do they know?) I actually felt sorry for the sap that wrote that review. There was a future Rock and Roll Hall of Fame act on the bill that night, not to mention arguably the greatest guitarist of his generation, and the poor guy totally missed it. A complete whiff. Not to worry, I’m guessing that writer went on to a successful career forecasting futures on Wall Street.

Well, of one thing I’m certain. The show did happen. And I’ve got the ticket stub and pictures to prove it. Not to mention, 32 years reflecting on the memories of that one night.

David Lee Roth, Eddie Van Halen and Michael Anthony in happier times.

The photos, incidentally, were shot by a friend of mine who was taking a photography class on campus at the time. We went to the university darkroom and printed these pictures up, and I have held on to them all these years. Several of them capture the raw power and energy of a young band that would become the biggest band in America within the next five years. (Mitch Hancock, wherever you are these days — I salute you!)

Eight days after the Logan show, Van Halen played the second day of the Califfornia (yes, with two f’s) World Music Festival at the Los Angeles Coliseum, appearing with the likes of Aerosmith, UFO, Toto, Mother’s Finest, Eddie Money, Brownsville and the Boomtown Rats.

A little over six months later, Mat Yeates and I, and two other friends, were on the doorstep of Eddie and Alex Van Halen’s childhood home in Pasadena — on the day of the band’s first headline appearance at the Great Western Forum — having a chat with their father, Jan Van Halen (a delightful character). Ah, but that’s a story for another day.

That's the tale of my introduction to Van Halen ... what's yours?

Note: Included below is the setlist from the Logan show, as well as links to an article on the Granati Brothers and their history with Van Halen, details and photo of Eddie's "Shark" guitar, and a travel piece I wrote detailing the last time I've seen the mighty VH. Also, some videos that have popped up on YouTube in the last couple years taken from the tour-opening show in Fresno, Calif., on March 25, 1979 — just six days before the Logan show. This footage is the closest thing available to what I witnessed that first Saturday night in Logan.

Eddie Van Halen inspired a whole generation of guitar players with his unique tapping style.

Van Halen

Utah State University

March 31, 1979

Light Up the Sky

Somebody Get Me a Doctor

Running With the Devil

Dance the Night Away

Beautiful Girls

On Fire

You’re No Good

Jamie’s Cryin’

Feel Your Love Tonight

Outta Love Again

Ice Cream Man

Ain’t Talkin’ ’Bout Love

Eddie Van Halen Guitar Solo

You Really Got Me

Encore I

Bottoms Up

Encore II

Atomic Punk

Performance time: 1 hour, 25 minutes

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A great article on the Granati Brothers and their experiences on tour with Van Halen can be found here.

For a closer look at some of Eddie's iconic guitars, including the "Shark," click here.

This was a report of my first Van Halen concert. Here's a report of the last time I saw the band — Tiger Jam 2008 in Las Vegas.