In Memoriam: Eddie Van Halen

The otherworldly-talent of Eddie Van Halen left this earthly coil on Tuesday, October 6, 2020 at age 65.

Cancer.

A decades-long smoking habit will do that to you, not to mention a lifestyle that is "unhealthy," at best. I only mention these things as a way to point out he likely shaved a solid 15 years from his life via these habits and choices. To fixate on this, however, is missing the point of this post.

As a little kid, I remember "Jump" playing on the radio. There are songs you remember from childhood and you can't necessarily remember who the artist was or any real details, the song just existed in your life.

I vaguely remember the transition between the David Lee Roth era of Van Halen and the Sammy Hagar era. I remember "Right Now" being used as the soundtrack to a Crystal Pepsi commercial. I remember the power drill gimmick intro of "Poundcake." I remember Bill and Ted lamenting that they needed Eddie Van Halen to join Wyld Stallions. Eddie Van Halen was always around the popular culture of my childhood.

However, in high school, I started playing the guitar. My friends became other guys who played guitar. We shared the bond of the common interest.

My friend Michael Rader turned me on to Eddie Van Halen the player in my junior year of high school and I never looked back. He had a VHS copy of the "Live: Right Here, Right Now" concert video and told me to head straight to the part of the show where Eddie had a solo spot. Mesmerized might be the best way to describe what I was hearing and seeing. I showed it to my friend, Jeremy Buckelew — also a guitar player. "He makes it sound like a motorcycle," I explained. I had no vocabulary to describe, in technical terms, what was happening. It didn't matter. Eddie Van Halen was ushering us to a new realm of guitar players. He was a unique force that we had never experienced. We loved Richie Sambora and some of the other rock guitar heroes of the day, but Eddie was EDDIE.

The "Balance" album — the last with Hagar — came out my senior year, just as my musical tastes were really solidifying. I devoured it. I had a Van Halen "Balance" poster in my freshman dorm room. Michael, Daron Speight, and I attended our first ROCK concert that summer at Nashville's old Starwood Amphitheater. We had lawn seats and got as close to the front as we could and made sure to position ourselves slightly toward Eddie's side of the stage. This was before you could record every second of the show. I have no photos, no video, no audio, only the memories rattling around in my ever-aging brain. But, man, what an experience to see our hero, Eddie Van Halen, in the flesh.

I caught them again several months later in Memphis, Tenn., at the old Pyramid arena. I drove from Murfreesboro, Tenn., to Jackson, Tenn., and caught a ride with a group of guys and my fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Buckelew (Jeremy had to bow out at the last minute). I can still picture the stage, the experience, the opening notes of "Right Now" kick-starting the show. I can also recall a far-too-sleepy three-hour-plus long drive back to my dorm room and getting into my bed at 4:00 a.m. I was in college and tasting some freedom for the first time. It was probably the most irresponsible decision I made that year, but it was worth it. Eddie Van Halen. In the flesh. Twice in one year!

Hagar left/was kicked out of the band shortly thereafter. I followed every moment of the saga. I waited in line at midnight at the old Media Play store in Antioch, Tenn., to buy a Greatest Hits album because two new songs with Roth were going to be on it. I had a cardboard life-size cutout in my apartment that my friend Daniel Copeland procured for me from Chandler's Music in McKenzie, Tenn. I kept the Peavey Guitar advertisement until we moved from our Main Street house in 2015 and I simply didn't have room to store it anywhere anymore without risking damage to it. I sold it to another Van Halen fan, keeping it in the VH Fan Family, at the very least.

In 1998, I was about to be married and my last single guy hurrah was with my friend Daniel Copeland to see Van Halen at Starwood again, this time with new lead singer Gary Cherone in tow. The new album was disappointing and the crowd was small (7,000 or so in a place that held 18,000 or so), but all eras of the band were covered that night and one more time, I saw Eddie in the flesh. I caught a pick from original bass player Michael Anthony. I snuck a camera in but security caught me taking photos and made me toss away the film (the picture at the top of this post is from that show from The Tennessean newspaper).

I never went to any of the reunion shows with Hagar (2004) or Roth (2007, 2012, 2015) after 1998 and I grew weary of the constant drama surrounding the band. But, the music remained in my life.

I could never play guitar like Eddie Van Halen — not even close. Even when I tried to learn, it was borderline pathetic, at best. But, man, I loved watching him play. The smile. The fluidity. The ease of it all. He was a joy to watch.

There are musicians who changed things. Musicians who were lines in the sand. The before and after was marked by these people.

Hendrix. Elvis. The Beatles. Van Halen.

It's always a strange thing to mourn when famous people die. I didn't know them. They didn't know me. There was no relationship there. But it still stings because that gift — in the flesh — is no longer among us. All that is left are recordings. Facsimiles of the real thing.

I believe God grants some people unique abilities to share with others. I don't know Eddie Van Halen's standing before his Creator and it's not my place to speculate or judge, but I do know he shared his God-given gift and it produced joy in others.

It certainly did for me.