In the early 80's I genuinely admired Joe Strummer. A serious minded muckraker of Strummer's level was always a good tool to keep handy, especially in an uncertain time. Some goals and heroes should set a high standard and The Clash fit that bill nicely in those early Reagan years.
Van Halen, on the other hand, was pure teenage boy ecstasy. A generation earlier a boy of my age may have fantasized about running away from home to join the circus. In my age the fantasy was being kidnapped by Van Halen with their intent of corrupting you with loud music, illicit substances and teased hair, gum smacking rock chix (yes, with the "x").
They were everything I wasn't. I was shy, introverted, and as naive as the day was long. They certainly weren't any of those things. They were loud, smart-assed and about as serious as a 1950's Archie comic book. They were one of the last thing adults wanted us to listen to and that made the fruit so much sweeter. We weren't going to make a new religion after their image, or even a lifestyle. Just drop the needle on Diver Down or VHII and for a brief while you could live vicariously through them.
Looking back on those horrible, hormone-driven teenage years, one thing I can now see clearly with the benefit of 30+ years distance is that you can be pure with your listening tastes at that age. You don't need to reconcile the contradictions of having Lou Reed, The Rolling Stones and Rush lined up in your meager LP crate. You didn't need to worry what someone else might think if you had the new Journey LP in your collection. All it took was for word to get around that you had a copy of Iggy Pop's The Idiot and people would bring you a new Maxell tape still in the wrapper, asking nicely for a copy even if you were a Grade A high school screwball.
Just a few years later, just a few short years past puberty and into the stages of early adulthood and things would drastically change. In the eyes of some Van Morrison would be acceptable in your collection, Van Halen would not. You had to learn how to stash certain records when certain people would visit.
Diamond Dave isn't going to bring out the ass-less chaps again and there will be no more feathered hair. Eddie's even got short hair now, and a new life post cancer. Michael Anthony won't be harmonizing with Eddie either. We can't go back to 1981, but we can at least get a little taste of what we once had. The good things we had. Here's hoping for the brown sound and at least one more good laugh.
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