Van Halen - Self-Titled

Yesterday marked the 30th anniversary of Van Halen’s debut. I’m reading Everybody Wants Some, Ian Christe’s fine biography of the band, and I’ve had fun revisiting the old records (that is, until the Sammy Hagar era; 5150 is fucking repulsive). They’re fascinatingly varied (Fair Warning and 1984 are almost polar opposites), but I keep coming back to Van Halen. I cannot tire of this record.

On Fire
Ice Cream Man
Ice Cream Man (John Brim original)

Robert Christgau’s Consumer Guide review:

For some reason Warners wants us to know that this is the biggest bar band in the San Fernando Valley. This doesn’t mean much–all new bands are bar bands, unless they’re Boston. The term becomes honorific when the music belongs in a bar. This music belongs on an aircraft carrier. C

What music, exactly, belongs on an aircraft carrier? (And why does aircraft carrier music get a C?) Perhaps Christgau meant music of macho-ness and/or athleticism. Van Halen is guilty of both, of course. “You know you’re semi-good lookin'” comes to mind, as does every other lick Eddie Van Halen plays. But that’s not the point. This record is about being full of cum, noize, and hunger, and putting up with David Lee Roth long enough to harness his ADD-led zing.

Of Van Halen‘s four singles, only “You Really Got Me,” a Kinks cover, would make it on today’s originality-bereft radio. “Runnin’ With the Devil” is too dark and plodding (I never got why Van Halen records often began with plodders, as the band wasn’t good at plodding – which was all it did with Hagar). The chaste heroine of “Jamie’s Cryin'” would never make it on radio now – but her slutty doppelgängers in Tone-Loc’s “Wild Thing” definitely would.

On second thought, “You Really Got Me” might not be a hit today. Eddie’s sound is too edgy. His tone here is monstrous. The intro to “Ain’t Talkin’ ‘Bout Love” is breathtakingly orgasmic. Its barbed palm-muting charged with phaser and delay, with a stinging pinch harmonic goosing the end of the riff – that intro is the song.

On Fire

In general, Eddie’s playing here would never make it on radio today. He crosses bar lines. Radio today – neutered, polished, formatted – doesn’t cross bar lines. In the cover of bluesman John Brim’s “Ice Cream Man,” Eddie rockets into his solo with stratospheric major key licks, then zooms back down by moving the same fretting shape across the strings (an EVH trademark – see also “Hot for Teacher”).

It’s not diatonically “correct” – and that’s why it’s so electric. At his best, Eddie launched into nail-bitingly implausible acrobatics, yet always stuck the landing. Other guitarists have been faster or more technical, but few have conveyed the same fire (Trey Azagthoth and Dimebag Darrell have come close). A guitar solo, “Eruption,” as the second track? That would never happen on a major label record today.

The most underrated aspect of early Van Halen was the backup vocals. When “I’m the One” morphs from a smoking solo to perfect barbershop harmonies – rival bands must have heard that and thought, “Fuuuuuck.” “Feel Your Love Tonight” has backups so awesome, they make me headbang. The “tonigh-igh-igh-ight” melismas circling as a round – heaven in the backseat indeed.

Van Halen saves its best for last. “On Fire” is front-to-back mindblowing, from Eddie’s tick-tock harmonics, to the “I’m on fiyaaah” backups that damn near make my head explode, to the crushing riff after the first chorus, to the evil, King Diamond-esque “fire” refrain afterwards, to Alex Van Halen’s juggling act of a fill coming out of the bridge – how many babies were conceived to this song??? Van Halen II mimicked its predecessor, replacing “Runnin’ With the Devil” with “You’re No Good” and “Eruption” with “Spanish Fly” – but the band would never recapture such magic.