I was reminiscing over email earlier today with a friend of mine from back East about how much we loved and worshipped Van Halen when we were kids. I think what I really latched onto, in addition to the killer riffs and great songs, was the sleazy spectacle of it all. They were randy, dirty guys from Southern California, and they reveled in their filthiness. For me there was a forbidden fruit element to it because I was raised in such a proper household. My parents never discussed sex with my sister and me, and they placed a very high premium on manners, propriety, and all that uptight, upper crust shit I hate so much but have had burned into my consciousness forever. And then along comes Van Halen, and they’re just puerile and loud as fuck, but they also have David Lee Roth’s jewy cleverness working for them. Eddie and Alex have never seemed to me like the sharpest tools in the shed, but Diamond Dave more than filled the void with his obnoxiously larger than life rude boy humor and smarts. So yeah, it’s the meeting of aggressive hard rock and sophomoric (yet also deceptively thoughtful) humor that made Van Halen so appealing to me. And what I’ve been telling anyone who’ll listen these last few days is that the allure of Van Halen’s particular brand of sleaze is greatly bolstered by Michael Anthony’s backing vocals. He was the band’s secret weapon. He made everything sound so wonderfully dirty. And his look only added to the band’s unclean veneer. Interviews I’ve seen with Anthony on youtube leave me with the impression that he’s a very sweet, somewhat soft-spoken teddy bear, quite possibly the most reasonable dude in the band, though the bar is admittedly set pretty low. But if you ran into Michael Anthony on the street and didn’t know who he was, you might think he’s a pornographer or a guy who owns a titty bar. And this is good thing. Van Halen are the titty bar of rock ‘n roll. Before you enter, make sure you have plenty of fives and ones on your person. You’re gonna need ‘em…
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