Eddie Van Halen

by Neil Zlozower

  I met Eddie when I was around twenty-one with Zeke Clark, who was Eddie’s tech and ended up being my tech when I recorded the Poison album Native Tongue. I remember being somewhere with Eddie, Valerie, Emilio Estevez, and Zeke, talking about Jaguars. I really could not believe that I was where I was.

  The ultimate for me was being at the Forum sitting inside Eddie’s little guitar booth where Zeke would tune the guitars and monitor Eddie. I remember Eddie coming into the little room and asking me how it sounded. I was speechless … I could not believe I was this close to my idol, and he was asking for my opinion.

  Although I’ve been in the company of many, I do not have any pictures in my home of me with any celebrities other than my picture with Eddie. Needless to say, he is a true guitar hero to me.

  —Richie Kotzen

  When Eddie reinvented rock guitar, he also inadvertently invented some new rock language. If it weren’t for Eddie, the musical vocabulary would never have included boodily-boo boodily-boo boodily-boo or dweedly dweedly dweeee!!! This is descriptive of all those disciples flogging new invention into a who-can-play-more-notes-fastest contest.

  Eddie’s playing always spoke in humorous, charming sentences, and he has somehow retained the championship for feel over technique. He makes it look easy, with that impish grin. Arguably, he is the original leprechaun shredder.

  A while back I gave Eddie his first real acoustic guitar. I couldn’t believe it was his first—he said he didn’t play acoustic. He called my room a few hours later, as the sun came up, and played me a gorgeous blues/rock instrumental piece over the phone. I hope he recorded it somewhere! He had conquered the acoustic in one night.

  —Nancy Wilson

  My introduction to Van Halen’s music was through the radio, as with anything at that point in my life. I was probably thirteen, and the only means I had to get music WAS the radio, until a point that I liked something and looked further into albums and live shows. But once I got my first Van Halen album, I was hooked!!! I don’t think I missed a single show in Southern Cal from the second record through the fourth record. I would be planted in the loge section with my binoculars trying to figure out what the hell this guitar wizard was doing! Needless to say, I left clueless each time … he was that far ahead of the game!

  His guitar playing felt like it was a living entity all its own. It probably had a lot to do with my marriage to the tremolo as well. We all emulate our heroes, right? Although what we play is extremely different from Van Halen’s music, you can definitely hear where all the dive-bombs came from …

  —Kerry King

  The first time I met Ed was in 1985. Gene Simmons was producing my band Keel’s third album and was very friendly with Ed. I was recording some guitars in the main room when Gene called over the mic in his low baritone voice, “Come in, there’s someone here I’d like you to meet.” Needless to say I was pretty intimidated meeting Eddie, and was not able to finish the session! But he put me right at ease, and we started a friendship that continued throughout the years. Keel even played the Texxas Jam with Van Halen the following year, and I’m sure Ed had something to do with that.

  A few years later my second band, Cold Sweat, was rehearsing next door to the band Private Life, which Ed was producing, and somewhere there is a tape of us jamming old AC/DC and Black Sabbath tunes with him. We had a blast … you never saw five guys smiling so much.

  Around that period of time I got into bowling, and Tommy Thayer and a bunch of us would bowl every weekend. As a lark, I invited Ed. Sure enough, he took us up on the offer, and we had a few crazy bowling parties! He throws as hard as any pro bowler out there.

  Our birthdays are one day apart, and I have always felt like we were celebrating simultaneously.

  These days, I am reminded of Ed every time I play my beloved EVH Wolfie guitars, perhaps the finest production model guitar ever made.

  —Marc Ferrari

  Eddie Van Halen is the last in line of a very elite group of electric guitar players. In fact, there’s only one other person, Jimi Hendrix (if you’re not including Les Paul the guitarist) who can be attributed with defining the electric guitar as we know it today. When I first heard Eddie Van Halen, I was thrilled and inspired. It was everything I ever wanted to hear in a guitar player. Love the technique, the fire, and the originality. And like any true pioneer—holds true to this day.

  —Phil Collen

  Eddie’s music came into my life in 1978, and from that point forward I knew exactly what I was going to do with my life. Not only did he reinvent the guitar forever, and influence all of us from that year forward, he even changed the way the guitar looked. How many of us started adding stripes to our guitars?!

  I listened to each Van Halen record from start to finish so many times just to study his latest technique and wonder to myself, “How in the hell did he just do that?” It was always a treat to hear with each record how he’d come up with a new style. It started on Van Halen with “Eruption,” then on Van Halen II it was “Spanish Fly,” then he blew me away with “Take Your Whiskey Home” on Women and Children First. Then came “Fair Warning.” Where do I start with that one? The opening of “Mean Street” made my jaw drop! He just kept growing as a player and songwriter with each album so much that I’d wonder, “What will he do next?” Then on Diver Down he hits us with “Cathedral” and “Little Guitars” (he must have overdubbed himself, right?). Much to my surprise, he picked the high E string and played the low bass melody with hammer-ons and pull-offs at the same time! The album 1984 cemented everything about Eddie in one record for me. “Hot for Teacher,” “Girl Gone Bad,” and “Drop Dead Legs” set yet another plateau for his playing ability and knack for writing smashes.

  Most kids’ heroes are Superman, Batman, and Spider-Man. Mine was and is Eddie Van Halen.

  —John 5

  Edward Van Halen: The raw, creative, burning white-hot talent behind those three words will never be repeated again in the music world.

  I first met Edward Van Halen in 1977, and from 1978 to 1985, I worked closely with Edward and the band. Every night, at every show, the sound of Van Halen blasted into my soul, and the visuals burned into my eyes—an assault on the senses, intentionally.

  I remember my earliest impressions of the band, at a rehearsal in a basement in Pasadena before the band signed to Warner Bros. Edward was quiet, shy, and withdrawn in his own world where music was the language du jour. Alex simply and sincerely enjoyed pounding on things. Michael could have been your next-door neighbor, smiling and waving from his yard as he guzzled a beer and steered his riding lawnmower while imagining himself on a Nascar track. DLR was like an aerobics instructor on uncut speed. Van Halen was an interesting combo platter, to say the least. But when they started playing, those impressions were replaced with the sensation of an F5 tornado sweeping you off your feet and hurling you hundreds of yards away.

  Later on, I remember I was asked to go to Eddie’s hotel room because he was upset, and apparently everyone thought I would be best-suited to deal with the dilemma. When I arrived, he was seated on the bed, head in hands. He looked up and said, “The thing is … I mean, what it is, the thing is that … you know what I mean?” It was a confusing series of clues, but in that exchange I realized that even if Edward wasn’t always comfortable with words, he communicated through his fingertips, and when he did, the world stopped to listen, and everyone got the message—fucking loud and fucking clear.

  There are so many memories I could recount, but I think the most interesting “tell” about Edward’s talent is this: The two of us were sitting in his dressing room before a sold-out arena show, in a welcome moment of peace before the tsunami that was Van Halen took the stage. I was listening to him play the guitar that rarely, if ever, left his hands. I waited for a break in the incredible piece of music he had just played and asked, “Seriously, Eddie, where did that come from?” He looked up at me and I could see him trying to find an answer … and then he looked back down at
his hands and said, “I don’t know, Pete. I just hear it in my head.”

  —Pete Angelus

  Eddie’s finger-tapping and vibrato work were innovative. It’s something he developed that made him different than all other guitar players. Extremely different. He mastered it very well. Eddie proves a fellow can create his own thing, something that’s recognizable. It’s very intriguing, and it’s a great road to go down. It’s good to see someone out there that plays his way. That is what makes the man stand out from the boy.

  Eddie Van Halen came up with his own thing. Okay, as far as I know, he may have copied it from some hillbilly, I don’t know. But it seems like he had his own thing going. And that alone, by itself, makes it very interesting. And the fact that he does it very well means he’s expressing a lot of things he had inside him that others don’t have. They just don’t play that way.

  —Les Paul

  April 6th, 1984. Cobo Hall. Detroit, Michigan. I’m standing on my chair and I’m jammed up against the stage with a swaying herd of sweaty Motor City rock fans. Van Halen is tearing through “Ain’t Talkin’ ‘bout Love,” and it’s their last encore of the night. I don’t want it to end. Ever. But I know the fuse is burning, so I’m alive in the moment and soaking it all up. When the song is finally over, the band approaches the front of the stage to take a bow. The crowd is going apeshit, and it’s just one continuous loud roar. I’m part of that thunder. It’s glorious mayhem. Rock ‘n’ roll triumph. And then, in the midst of this insanity, something spectacular happens. And as much as I’ve been waiting all night for it, I’m still caught off guard when it finally goes down. Bam! Eddie’s eyes fall in line with mine. Radar lock. It’s unmistakable. Eddie is looking at ME. He sees me. I see him. He’s smiling. I’m smiling. I don’t know what to do. I stretch my hand out towards him. Eddie’s looking at me and he sees my open hand. Then in a fluid sweep, he swings his right arm in my direction. I catch sight of the guitar pick just as it leaves his fingertips. It’s white and it’s fluttering through the air headed right for me. I watch the pick somersaulting closer, closer, closer, and then … SHIT! Some douchebag next to me shoves his hand in front of mine and the pick bounces off it and tumbles down between us. The asshole jumps off his seat and starts combing the floor. I glance down and, on his vacant orange seat cushion, I see a flash of white. The reaction is immediate. I hurl myself towards the ground and swat at the little white triangle on the adjacent chair. I feel it under my palm and then my fingers snap shut around it. Cargo secure. I don’t open my fist until I am sitting in the back seat of my friend’s car. My fingers unfurl slowly and there it is. A VH logo on one side and Eddie’s signature on the other. Amazing. It was in Eddie’s hand and now here it is in mine. Connection. Communion.

  And just as I held that pick so tightly in my hand twenty-seven years ago, I hold Edward Van Halen and his music in my heart, and I always will. EVH to the core. ‘Til the end.

  —John A. Sepetys

  I’m writing this on January 19, 2011, some thirty-three years after the Shock Heard Around the World. I’m referring of course to Van Halen.

  Earlier today I was at Henson Studios—the old Charlie Chaplin movie lot—to do a writing session in the mixing room. As I was about to enter the room, my ears demanded that my feet stop in their tracks. What caused me to stop was a familiar sound from the room across the hall. This sound was desperately trying to break through the double-thick walls of the studio.

  It was faint, but even so, there was no mistaking the power of the sound that was seeping through those walls, because there can only be one Edward.

  I looked around to make sure no one was around, and then walked over and put my ear to the wall. I closed my eyes and listened intensely, and between the vibration and what I actually heard—poof!—I was transformed from forty-four to fourteen years old. Then, for the next three minutes, like a burst of electricity running through me, I saw and heard the soundtrack of my life flash before me. Back to the minute I walked into my brother’s room and heard “Running with the Devil” for the first time and I froze, staring at the record player with my mouth open like I was seeing porn for the first time, trying to comprehend what I was hearing. If that wasn’t scary enough, my brother then played another track, which opened with the thunder of the greatest, most individual and under-celebrated drummer in the world, King Alex Van Halen: PaDaLaBum PaDaLaBum … “Eruption!” At that point I looked at my brother and asked if we were being invaded by aliens, and what planet Edward Van Halen was from.

  We’ve only had a handful of legendary guitarists whose styles were influential from the moment they hit the scene. Eddie not only had a groundbreaking style and sound, but as Van Halen’s discography shows, he and the band went on to make great and important music throughout their career.

  Edward is a not only a great guitarist, he is a true genius and innovator. Like the legendary guitarists before him, he brought guitar to a new level, but unlike them, he reinvented the guitar one album after the other. It was fucking mind-boggling to listen to each new record. How could this be? We figured, Okay, Ed, you did it! “Atomic Punk,” “I’m the One,” et cetera, on Van Halen were improbable enough. Then what? He fucking did it again with Van Halen II! “Spanish Fly,” “Somebody Get Me a Doctor,” and “Outta Love Again.” Then on Women and Children First there’s “Everybody Wants Some,” “Take Your Whiskey Home,” “Loss of Control,” … and then came my favorite VH album, Fair Warning! I thought, It’s four albums in, he’s definitely gonna start repeating himself. Drop the needle … and … wait for it … it’s fading in … no fucking way … “Mean Streets”! This guy is not human. Then “Unchained”?! I was convinced now that he really was an alien from another planet. And the list goes on: “Cathedral,” “Little Guitars,” “Hot for Teacher,” “Top Jimmy.” The reinvention and innovation was relentless, and goes on till today.

  What’s even more incredible is that he did this without ever doing a long-winded, “look at me” instrumental solo record; he did it while being one of the tastiest rhythm players around, and while still serving the most important part, the Song.

  I ran into Edward an hour later in the hallway, and after receiving a hello and a warm hug from the man who changed the world, I asked, “How’s it coming along in there?” And Ed said, “It’s cool… I’m a little nervous, though.” I said, “Nervous? You!? Eddie Van? The Master? Do you have any idea what you have done? The gifts you have given us for over thirty years? You single-handedly changed the history of how we play guitar!” And with that grin that we have been seeing on Eddie’s face for as long as we can remember, he looked me in the eye and said, “I know … why do you think I’m nervous?” Then he walked off like John Wayne, straight back into the studio.

  —Nuno Bettencourt

  [contributors (in alphabetical order)]

  Doug Aldrich (guitarist: Whitesnake)

  Joey Allen (guitarist: Warrant)

  Eddie Anderson (director of security 1980–84)

  Pete Angelus (creative consultant, production/lighting designer)

  Michael Anthony (bassist)

  Jose Arredondo (amplifier technician)

  Marshall Berle (personal manager 1977–79)

  Nuno Bettencourt (guitarist: Extreme)

  Ritchie Blackmore (guitarist: Deep Purple, Rainbow)

  Joe Bonamassa (guitarist)

  Vito Bratta (guitarist: White Lion)

  Carlos Cavazo (guitarist: Quiet Riot, Ratt)

  Wayne Charvel (founder: Charvel Guitars)

  Gilby Clarke (guitarist: Guns N’ Roses)

  Phil Collen (guitarist: Def Leppard)

  Warren DeMartini (guitarist: Ratt)

  C.C. DeVille (guitarist: Poison)

  Elliot Easton (guitarist: The Cars)

  Billy F. Gibbons (guitarist: ZZ Top)

  Marc Ferrari (guitarist: Keel, Cold Sweat, Medicine Wheel)

  John 5 (guitarist: Rob Zombie, Marilyn Manson, David Lee Roth)

  Lita Ford
(guitarist: The Runaways)

  Peter Frampton (singer/guitarist)

  Gus G. (guitarist: Firewind, Ozzy Osbourne)

  Bill Gazzarri (owner: Gazzarri’s nightclub)

  Paul Gilbert (guitarist: Mr. Big, Racer X)

  Brad Gillis (guitarist: Night Ranger)

  Allan Holdsworth (guitarist)

  Scott Ian (guitarist: Anthrax)

  Tony Iommi (guitarist: Black Sabbath)

  Grover Jackson (founder: Jackson Guitars)

  Eric Johnson (guitarist)

  Quincy Jones (producer)

  Michael Karlin (Van Halen business manager, 1978–present)

  Kerry King (guitarist: Slayer)

  Richie Kotzen (guitarist: Poison, Mr. Big)

  Bruce Kulick (guitarist: Grand Funk Railroad, KISS)

  Howard Leese (guitarist: Heart)

  Jon Levin (guitarist: Dokken)

  Adam Levine (singer/guitarist: Maroon 5)

  Bill Lonero (guitarist)

  Steve Lukather (guitarist: Toto)

  Mick Mars (guitarist: Mötley Crüe)

  Jim Marshall (founder: Marshall Amplification)

  Ronnie Montrose (guitarist: Montrose)

  Gary Moore (guitarist/singer)

  Tom Morello (guitarist: Rage Against the Machine, Audioslave)