Eddie Van Halen: In Memoriam
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I know when most people think of Van Halen, they think of the song Jump, which was their biggest hit. And when it comes to guitar players, they automatically go to “Eruption” off the first Van Halen album. Those are the seminal pieces in Van Halen lore.
For me, though, while I love both of those tracks, the song that defines Van Halen - the one that got me into the band and, in fact, made me start playing the guitar, were the ‘joint’ songs Intruder/Pretty Woman.
I don’t remember exactly when, but I think I was 14 when I heard it. Intruder was 1 minute, 39 seconds long and was written solely to provide an intro to their music video for Pretty Woman, which, when the video was made, ran well beyond the length of the song itself.
The foundation of the song is the drums, bass and synthesizer, but the entire mood of the song - its menacing feel, its attitude, its direction - is defined by Eddie Van Halen’s guitar. No chords, though, and barely any specific riff being played, just “noises”. Raking the pick across the strings, Tremolo Arm swings, scratching the tremolo springs on the back of the guitar, playing the strings behind the nut (on the headstock itself). Everything except strumming, chord shapes and traditional riffs. In fact, rumor has it that Eddie was also rubbing a can of Schlitz Malt Liquor Beer across the strings to get some of those sounds! Despite the weirdness, or perhaps because of it, I was drawn in. I was intrigued.
And when the band launched into their blistering cover of Pretty Woman - the heavily distorted guitar was like nothing I’d ever heard before. (It was so heavy and loud that apparently the tubes in Eddie’s Marshall amps began smoking. I don;t know if that’s true but I choose to believe it!). The riff (sure, not written by them but by Roy Oribison) was searing, and the chord work was melodic. And there was no guitar solo, because, as Eddie later (rightly) said, the song didn’t need it.
It was after I heard that, that I thought, man, I need to learn to play the guitar, and so I did. I bought a cheap Hondo brand maroon Flying V off of the brother of my buddy for US$25, and a Roland Cube 20 amp for I don’t think that much more. I taught myself to play a few basic chords, a few scales and plenty of tablature that I would beg or borrow from someone or the other. I remember learning to play the Pretty Woman riff and Panama. I remember trying very hard to solo like Eddie - didn’t happen, though....But Eddie became my idol, he was my first and most important guitar influence.
Eddie was a true Guitar God. A guy who tore up the playbook and wrote an entirely new one. From the start, he stood head and shoulders above anyone and everyone else (and there were PLENTY of imitators). He was known for his technique and speed, but he knew it was all about the song. He could certainly tear it up but that speed wasn’t the main point - melody and feeling was. It was about what fit the song.
Eddie clearly wasn’t about the fame. He often claimed he’d be playing guitar and making music, even if he was playing small clubs. I believe that. You can see it in the fact that he never tried to change himself or his style to fit “the times”. But he was always unique. You listened to something he played and you knew that was Eddie. Just so distinctive, so fluid, just so damn good.
His partnership with David Lee Roth was volatile (to say the least) but it yielded one of the greatest rock partnerships in history, succeeded by his partnership with Sammy Hagar. I’ll let you decide which one was better. It doesn’t really matter, though. Without Eddie, neither partnership would have been what they were.
Eddie was the model professional to me, who’s approach and traits are applicable to anything and everything we do. He loved his craft, he obsessed over it, obsessed over learning and creating and constantly developing.
When he couldn’t afford a great guitar, he built his own, piecing together what he called his ‘Frankenstrat’ guitar, and painting it in his now-familiar red, white and black stripe pattern, exact replicas of which sell for $25,000 a pop. So, it isn’t about your kit.
When he couldn't figure out how to play something, he’d find a way around it to get there. He talked about hearing Carlos Montoya play and couldn’t figure out how he did it, so he played around and mimicked an approach to playing like him - that’s the song Little Guitars off of the Diver Down album. So it isn’t about your exact ability and your resources.
Eddie never learned to read music (and why does that really matter anyway?). His motto was, “You’ve got 12 notes. Do whatever the hell you want with them.” So it’s about your creativity and will to get things done, nothing else.
Eddie’s death last week at the age of 65 was heartbreaking. Not just because of the above, but because he meant something to me at an important, formative time in my life. He influenced me in many ways, musically and otherwise. (He’s the first guy I ever read about who said there’s nothing wrong with being emotional and being open about your feelings, through music or otherwise.) Eddie was the epitome of cool and he was, as I said before, a true Guitar God. We’ll never see the likes of him again.
R.I.P. Eddie.
