Bidding Farewell to the hero of heroes

 

The moment the world changed...

It was one of those lazy Saturday mornings that meant so much to me as a kid. I had stayed the night at Grandma's house and Grandma had cable TV. That meant I could spend the morning watching kaiju movies and MTV. Goddamn, did I love kaiju movies and MTV!

I had flipped the channel to find Van Halen's video for "Hot for Teacher" playing on MTV. Midway through the song, guitar god Eddie Van Halen stood up on top of a table and started walking across tabletops, shredding out his solo as he went. 

That was the end of the world I had previously known. From then on, I HAD to learn how to play rock guitar. I HAD to learn to play like Eddie.

It's not that I'd never heard Van Halen before. I'd heard "Jump" on the radio. I had a vague idea of who Van Halen were. But this... This shit blew my brain through the back of my skull. 

And it wasn't that I was interested in playing guitar. I had wanted to play ever since seeing Roy Clark and Buck Owens pickin' and grinnin' on Hee Haw when I was like three-years-old. But this changed that want into a need.

See, this fused into my young brain the idea that playing guitar was not only fun, but it made you look like a badass. And I wanted that, so bad. As a fat, unathletic nerd with a heart condition, I wanted more than anything to be cool. And watching Eddie strut across those tables, shredding away effortlessly like he didn't have a care in the world besides his music... Dear God, I NEEDED to be that.

Hero Worship

I never met Eddie Van Halen. I never even got to see him play live. Yet, it's difficult for me to understate the massive fucking impact this man had on me. Along with Def Leppard, Van Halen was my gateway into heavy music. Eddie's playing changed the way the world sounded to me. It changed the kind of person I wanted to be. 

Yet, once I got my hands on a guitar, I knew I'd never be like Eddie. My hands were too small and my fingers moved around the fretboard like frozen fish sticks. On top of that, I always found his playing so intimidating. His blinding speed, the way he fused bluesy licks with techniques straight out of classical music, how he combined all that into one singular style that was just Eddie Van Halen and sounded like no one else. How does one without even a fraction of Ed's talent even begin to approach all that? How the fuck does Icarus attempt to fly so high when all he's got is wings of feathers and wax?

It took years for me to learn the real lesson I should've taken from Eddie Van Halen. That lesson? That it doesn't matter how fucking technically skilled you are. It doesn't matter how big your hands are or how fast you can fly around on the neck. What matters is that you SOUND like you on your instrument.

Nobody sounds like Eddie Van Halen but that is so not a bad thing. Think of the universe of guitarist Eddie influenced. Everyone from shredders like George Lynch and Nuno Bettencourt to thrashers like Scott Ian and new metal players like Matt Heafy of Trivium. NONE of these players sound the same. Hell, EVH was one of Rivers Cuomo's biggest influences and Weezer sounds nothing like Van Halen, even when they're actively trying to.

That attitude and approach to the guitar is what I should've gotten from Eddie's music. I can't be Eddie or Nuno or Rivers Cuomo or Matt from Trivium or the Lamb of God guys or Nita Strauss or even Kyle Gass from Tenacious D. But I can absolutely be that most ass-kicking, cool-as-ice version of me, Fatty Thrashbrowns. And you know what the best part of that is? NOBODY CAN BE ME. I have something no one else does. Nobody approaches guitar exactly like I do. The way I put things together musically is unique to me, no matter how much it sounds like I'm ripping off Killswitch Engage or Megadeth.

But this approach isn't just applicable to music and playing guitar. It applies to life, as well. Since we all perceive the world differently, none of us can take the exact same path through life. No matter what your parents, educators, or ecclesiastical leaders tell you, life isn't a one-size-fits-all deal. You can't be anybody else and honestly, you probably shouldn't try. I tried that for years when I was still going to church, trying like mad to be like the Elders Quorum president or whoever else was set in front of me as an example. I wasted so much time chasing that and that was wrong for me. Had I understood the real lesson I needed to learn from Eddie, maybe I wouldn't have wasted so much of my life.

But I understand now and as long as you're still drawing breath, it's never too late to try to be who you've always been meant to be. That's what Eddie Van Halen is now teaching, even so many years after I first stumbled across "Hot for Teacher" on Grandma's TV.

How do you say "Goodbye" to your heroes?

After George Lucas and Stan Lee, I'd say Eddie Van Halen has had more of an impact on who I am as a person than any other famous person. He's the guy who compelled me to grab fishing poles or strips of wooden molding or shovel handles or anything else vaguely fretboard-like and go stand at the edge of my lawn pretending I was the most famous, hardest-shredding guitar god on Earth. He made me want to play in a loud-ass rock band, not because it might get me laid but because it looked FUN and BADASS. How do you say goodbye to someone who has so profoundly influenced your course in life from a distance?

The simple answer: I don't think you do. Eddie left behind a wealth of fantastic music. Anytime I wanna time travel back to that time in front of Grandma's TV or remind myself to be the most kickass version of me I can or even just want to feel uplifted and connected to something bigger than myself, all I have to do is spin one of his albums. The tears (yes, I'm crying about this and fuck you for laughing) and the pain will eventually fade, just like they did with Carrie Fisher and Stan Lee. But my connection to Eddie's music and the lessons I've learned from him never have to.