Van Halen - Nashville Eruption - 1978 "How did he do that?" (Part Two)

I had no problem going to the show alone. I loved walking through downtown Nashville by myself, I had been doing it ever since I started skipping school in ninth grade.

I attended Cameron middle school for my ninth grade year. It was super weird because I was bussed there with ninth graders from many other districts, it had to do with the desegregation movement at the time. It was just one grade, ninth grade, so all of my ninth-grade friends from Edge-O-Lake were there, but there were kids from all over the Nashville area. The place was at maximum capacity, and I pretty much hated it there. It was an old, dilapidated building from the early 1920s that was re-purposed when it needed to be refurbished. 

Cameron was located very close to downtown Nashville, so I figured out how to sneak away as soon as I got off the bus in the morning and take the half-mile walk into the nearby metropolis. It was so cool! I was able to blend into the background and explore all the little nooks and crannies of the area downtown. You probably wouldn't wanna do that these days.

By the time I started working at Papermill Press, I knew downtown Nashville like the back of my hand. I was in my element.

As I walked through the streets on the way to the concert, headlights, and storefront lamps reflected in the puddles and wet pavement. I smoked the roach down until it burned my fingers, and I tossed it in a pothole.

I liked walking through Printers Alley, the legendary club lined alley that housed the Bourbon Street Blues and Boogie Bar. (There were strip clubs there too.) I cut through there on my way to Municipal Auditorium. I loved to stop there whenever I walked past, and listen to the blues guitar blasting out of the front door from the stage. There was always some unsavory character barking invitations to come on in there. I never tried, being underage, but they probably would have let me slide. I loved blues guitar, it always felt comfortable to me, like an old pair of jeans.

Ritchie Blackmore had a lot of blues in his playing, but he also had a lot of speed and minor scale shit that I loved, so it was the best of both worlds.

I had never heard anybody who played with the kind of fire and attitude that Ritchie had. I aspired to be able to play with that kind of confidence and precision.

I had never seen anyone I liked better.

Plus, he was a rockstar. He wore black clothes, white boots, did outrageous stage antics, and had Marshall stacks. Ritchie was the baddest.

He was my hero.

After studying his playing, I thought I understood the electric guitar.

The scene in front of Municipal was exciting. All of my people were filing in to see the rock show. 

By "my people," I mean the long-haired, pot-smoking, beer-drinking, Metal loving people. I may have looked nerdy in my uniform and hat, but I was right there with them.

This was only the fifth concert I had ever attended. I saw KISS in '76, The Eagles in '76, ELP in '77, and Rainbow open for REO in '77. I was with Paulie at KISS, Dad for ELP, Eagles, and Rainbow, but this time it was just me.

I was stoked about it. In retrospect, I see it as divine intervention because when you go to a concert with someone, especially your younger brother or your dad, there is no way to focus on the business at hand, one hundred percent.

That business is, being in conscience contact with every second of badassery going down on that stage. I loved the concerts so much! It was the absolute best thing there was for me.

I couldn't wait to see Sabbath.

I knew there was no way they would be better than Rainbow, but I was sure it would still be cool.

I went through the turnstile, got the old pot pat-down, and sped walked into the floor area to get as close to the front as I could. I was able to get kind of close for Rainbow, like, right next to the mixing console, but now that I was alone, I was going to go for the rail if possible.

There was already a substantial crowd on the rail, right upfront, but I was able to get within fifteen or twenty yards from the stage, so I was happy with that.

The first thing that struck me was the guitar amps on stage left for the opening band. It wasn't the wall of Marshalls that you were used to seeing, it was a row of 4x12 cabs that had no logos and no black Tolex, they were just plain wood. They were beaten up looking, with torn grill cloth and everything, but they actually looked fucking cool. Next to those was a huge black bomb, with some kind of electronics in it. That was fucking cool, too.

People were still streaming in, but I was thinking, "This is great, I'll just hold my position here, and I'll be golden for an excellent view of Sabbath. Nobody will crowd me during Van Halen; they are just the opening band. I'll probably even be able to go take a piss and come back right here."

I'm glad I didn't have to pee.

Right then, the lights go down. No matter who is about to play, this is one of my favorite times at a rock-show. There is always excitement and anticipation in the air.

I see movement in the shadows on stage and hear some "kunks" and other noises...then...BAAAMMMMP!

One quick test chord from Eddie... It about blew my head off, it was so loud. I was directly in the line of fire from the row of beat-up 4x12 cabinets.

"Whoa," I whispered to myself.

A dude began an introduction, "Blah blah blobbity blah blahhhh...VANNNN HAAALLLLEEENNN!"

The band immediately tore into On Fire, the opening number, as the stage lights and spotlights illuminated the stage.

Goddamn.

The sound of the fucking guitar...what was that? I had never heard tone like this. The super loud, creamy goodness of the guitar player's rig permeated the auditorium with those simple opening chords, then...

The harmonic pings he does to set up the verse leaves me going, "Wait a minute, what was that? Holy fuck!"

This reaction was repeated over and over for the next hour.

I felt a smile form on my face.

As they kicked into the verse, David Lee Roth starts singing, moving, screaming, and bouncing around like he's a rodeo cowboy with long blond hair. I immediately liked him. Dude was in charge!

The whole stage came alive; literally, it became a living, breathing entity.

As fun as Dave was to watch, I couldn't take my eyes or ears off Edward Van Halen. Just banging through the verses of On Fire, he was playing this super-tight rhythm pattern while taking his hand off the fretboard super fast and wiping the E string up and down in perfect time with the groove atop the fretboard. I had never seen anything like that before. Ritchie did some pick slides, but this cool WHIIIIIP, WHUUUUUP, type sound he was making between chords was crazy!

"Who the fuck is this guy?" I thought.

I focused in on this dude, something was definitely going on here.

He had his black and white Strat, with the black tape applied in a cool racing style motif, but different. There was a chain guitar strap with a locking clip into an eye screw on the strat. He was wearing a striped rocker shirt and bell-bottoms, with cool shoes, like dancing shoes or something. He had the hair that would spawn a generation of hair farmers, myself included, and a smile that exuded pure joy while he was mowing us down with his insane guitar pyrotechnics.

I took all of this in as the first two verses of the song went down, and I remember thinking, he looked so natural up there. His body moved in a way that flowed with the music, the very definition of Metal.

It was clear that the band was kick-ass, bass, drums, vocals, all hitting the mark entirely, but the spark at the center of this band was Edward.

I didn't even know his name at that moment.

When the solo for On Fire went down, I did that double-take, again.

Holy shit!

He did this incredible muted stream of licks that kept ascending up the neck, building the anticipation, then the band stops on a dime, and he does the tag to the solo perfectly.

Then he does that wicked intro harmonic break setting up the last verse.

"What the fuck!" I yelled, and this guy next to me goes, "Yeah!"

How did he do that? What did he do?

He had the whammy bar going too, just teasing us with it so far.

By the time On Fire came to an end, they had the crowd.

I let out my best, "Hell, fucking yeah!" and I meant it.

They tore right into Feel Your Love Tonight. I locked in on Eddie again. He was all over the stage, hamming it up, playing the hell out of his guitar, making it look so easy. The sound guy was killer, it just sounded better and better as they went along.

It dawned on me that although he was playing a Strat, his sound was full and thick, not the kind of piercing tone that a Stratocaster can have. I had struggled with that with my Strat.

That's when I noticed the humbucker in the bridge position on his black and white strat. 

This motherfucker! Another thing I'd never seen before. It made total sense.

No wonder his Strat was so beefy... but there was still something else going on with his sound that defied logic, what was it?

BAM! Another stellar solo rips by, leaving me baffled and amazed.

He ended that solo with a pick slide, but not just any pick slide, this was the best goddamn pick slide you ever heard, better than Tom Sholz, even better than Ritchie! 

(I've tried to duplicate the EVH pick slide for forty years, and I still can't do it like him.) 

I'm like, "Man, he's giving it all away early."

Little did I know.

I stood there in wide-eyed amazement, thinking, "I'm going to get this record tomorrow!"

I was already sold on Ed.

I was an instant fan, and I hadn't seen anything yet.

We were just two songs in, on a set that was going to go way longer than anybody expected, even Van Halen.

I wasn't even thinking about Sabbath anymore.

(To Be Continued)