Edward Van Halen: A Definitive Biography (33 page)

CHAPTER 36 

A Public Meltdown

Eddie’s work with Peavey was slow and arduous and they had nothing new to bring to the market as of the January 18, 2003 NAMM convention. Yet Edward was obliged to show up. His appearance shocked, scared, and disappointed scores of fans and admirers. Unfortunately, for Eddie, the entire thing was captured on tape, and a fair level of intoxication was obvious.

What follows is a transcript of the entire ordeal. I have added comments for clarification along the way. The ellipses during Ed’s dialog indicate pauses in his speaking pattern; not a single word has been removed.

[Ed walks into the room wearing odd clothing—a hat, finger-tip-less gloves, a jacket around his waist, and a bag on his shoulder. He honestly looks like a bum. He sits down and twirls around in a chair. There is brief light applause and woo-hoos that die down. Ed pulls an open mic down toward and him and begins.]

EVH: Thanks for joining me… Hi!

Audience: Hey, Edward!!! WOOO!!

EVH: What’re y’all doing here? [He says this without much humor, to some light applause.] No, what’re you doing here?

Audience member: Waiting for you!

EVH: [A long pause. No answer. Ed then turns to chug a bottle of water.] OK, here we go. [Returns to massively chugging bottle of water to cheers, as if in a drinking contest. He pauses and looks at the plastic water bottle.] Vodka… [He then unwraps the microphone cable from the stand so he can move more freely and does a bit of an Elvis dance to the crowd’s amusement. He then sits back down and puts his hand on his knee to prop himself up.] Anyway… [Long pause.] Hi… [The crowd cheers.] A little louder, please… [The crowd cheers louder.] Hi… [He waves.] In ten years of doing the 5150 amp, and… dealing with you guys that put it together, it just hit me like a brick wall the other day that after ten years I’ve only blown one amp. One amp. It wasn’t his fault or mine or bad loading or bad food. OK? So, the Wolfgang guitar, 5150, durable amp… beat the shit out of it, drag it around the block… I do not put my name on anything or let it out until, I would not put something out to you if it doesn’t hold up. It better outlast my life. It better exist after I’m dead and gone, OK? Which isn’t gonna happen any time soon, but… [Applause.]

So, I’ve been with the company for ten years and it’s time for me to move and do bigger and brighter things with the same company… Anyway, I really have nothing here to show you because we’ve got some motherfucking kick ass punk ass shit that’s gonna come out real soon that… We’ve been working our ass off for the last year to get this stuff done. OK? We dropped everything to do what I needed done. Didn’t have enough time. OK? So, I’m not even gonna talk about it. But it’s some shit that’s never been done. I got a patent on one of them. And… it’ll blow your socks off. That’s why I don’t wear them anymore, because, you know, it ain’t no fun. Umm… there are a couple of things that are in the, uh… [He turns to consult with the Peavey rep]. I think we got a ¾ scale guitar and, uh, 5150 [inaudible] which kicks ass. Umm, there’s a couple few things that were a little more difficult than we thought, just to come up with some twisted ass ideas. And… when they do come out… [This is followed by a very long, awkward pause.]

Look at your neighbors around here. Is there a company around here that does anything but follow us? I’m serious. You know? Hooked them up with some badass shit. It’s great, sounds great, and we have to prove to ourselves first that it’s worthy of putting out. I don’t do anything… I’m not monetarily motivated. It’s not about the money. It’s about stuff I need to do what I need to do. You know? So, sometimes somebody in the company will go ‘Well why would somebody want something like that?’ [He says this in a overtly mocking tone.] Well, and I tell them again,
I
want it—someone else will want it. OK? So, I’m proud to be part of Peavey, gets to be a whole new beginning. I’ve been through a lot of personal shit in the last couple three years, and the light at the end of the tunnel is not an oncoming train. I came out healthier than I’ve ever been, ummm… [The crowd cheers.] Thank you for anything spiritual, you name it… I am… I’m happening, and so is James, so is Matt, so is Bill. [He is referring to the Peavey reps. James is James Brown, the amp guru who worked with Edward on creating the first 5150 amp.] Hardly ever know about Bill… [This is followed by light laughter.] Where’d he go? Where’d his folks go? But anyway, I don’t have a hell of a lot to say except we got some wicked ass shit coming up as soon as we as a team are happy with it and are comfortable that it will not break after beating the living shit out of it. It will be available to you. So I can’t put any date on it, it sucks, we’re busting our ass to get it out, OK? And I got some personal stuff to do right now, so, I’m not signing any autographs, no interviews, uhh, I’ll take care of every one of you and your aunts and uncles and third cousins next time I see you. OK? So, that’s about all I got to say. [There is some noise from the crowd.] Huh?

Audience member: Play a little guitar for us! [This is followed by a long, sustained applause.]

EVH: Somebody bring me a cello. I only play the piano and the cello. [The crowd continues to bait Ed to play something. Edward stands up and takes a very defensive posture.] What the fuck am I gonna play here that you haven’t heard already? I’m not—no, wait, wait, wait—I’m not gonna play you something new. [The crowd goes completely silent as a shocked response to the snarky comment. Slowly though, members of the crowd begin baiting him again to play some classic bits.] Just listen to the fucking record. I haven’t even listened to the record to remember what I did. OK, what do you want to hear?

Audience: [Members of the crowd shout several things like “Eruption,” etc. During a moment of brief silence, one audience member makes a very clear, audible request.] “Mean Streets!”

EVH: You know, I like forward movement. [When the audience realizes he is not going to respond to their requests, many members groan loudly.] That too, cause it’s funny. I stop at the gas station and people go “How come you ain’t doin’ nothin’?” I go just because we’re not putting nothing out doesn’t mean I ain’t doin’ nothin’. Wrote a movie, wrote a sitcom, wrote the music for it. [Ed’s purported movie and/or sitcom has never been further discussed and most definitely has never seen the light of day.] I got enough music for five records.

Audience member: We just want one.

EVH: It’s just a matter of, uh… . [This is followed by a very long pause.] I’ve just got too much shit goin’ on. And I haven’t had the time to put it out. But soon… whatever that means. [A Peavey rep hands Ed a Wolfgang, Ed looks it over and turns to the Peavey rep.] You got a caliper? [The audience laughs as Ed fishes a pick out of his pocket.] I do not travel without. [Ed straps on the guitar and starts jamming a bit. He plays a few chords, adjusts the amp, and tunes the guitar. He proceeds to play quite well, and then stops to fiddle with the amp some more.] Somebody get your punk ass up here and sing. [Ed continues to noodle, but stops in a fit of frustration.] I’m trying to think, and when I think, it don’t work.

Audience member: It’s workin’!

EVH: No, it ain’t. You ain’t seen me when it works. I’ve written so much stuff lately, I’m trying to think of it.

Audience member: Pick one!

EVH: Well, no, because you’re recording this shit. C’mon, you heard me. [There is no response from the audience to this comment. Utter silence. Ed proceeds to play some using various odd effects from amp. He plays a lot of different bits, occasionally stopping for applause. All he is doing is start-and-stop noodling. He pauses and actually puts his hand to his foreheard in frustration.] Wait a minute. [He turns to grab his water bottle.] Everybody put your camera on pause… [He then proceeds to chug the water as if he was excessively dehydrated.] You like my lid? [He is referring to his hat. The audience claps a bit and Ed returns to playing. He continues to play to varying degrees—at times brilliant, and at times very sloppy. His noodling, again, is very start-and-stop—he simply goes from one disjointed idea into another. Almost nothing flows together and at times he just makes pure noise and feedback—his guitar sound is incredibly washed out in reverb and echo. Ed stops playing.] What is with that, the, the, the ‘verb shit? [There is some awkward laughter.] No, what is that? [He says this pointedly to a Peavey rep off camera.] What? [One of the reps obviously adjusted the amp before Ed takes a quick practice bend at the 7
^th
fret on the G string, and hears that the reverb is gone.] Thank you. I don’t use none of that crap. [He is playing an amp that he personally designed… He continues to noodle, working some harmonics passages before he again comes to a very abrupt halt.] Damn it! [He is visibly frustrated that he can’t execute what he’s trying to do.]

Audience member: Do the elephant sound!

EVH: What? Ahh, that’s old, man. [He reluctantly does the “elephant”, and actually mumbles something incoherent that sounds like “I’ve heard the touch”. Then he looks at James to his right and makes an aggressive “what’s the deal” gesture to him. James gestures away, possibly indicating that he didn’t have any say-so or control over the amplification settings whatsoever, and Ed turns away and gives a clearly exasperated “Aww, man.” Ed looks angry but continues to play. James then stands up behind Ed and whispers to him for several seconds and pulls away. It is clear that James is doing the best he can to redirect Edward’s behavior. Ed nods, and before James sits down, he actually moves back in to continue to whisper to Ed, apparently adding to his initial comments. Ed replies with an audible, “Naw, man” straight into the microphone. He continues to noodle briefly before coming to yet another stop.] God damn it, all. It’s too fuckin’ early. I’m nocturnal, you know. [He stands up and stands still, looking toward the ceiling as if waiting for inspiration to hit him.]

Audience member: Play the blues, Ed!

EVH: [Ed responds by playing a very short blues lick.] I’m too happy. [This statement is followed by laughter. Eddie continues to noodle, very briefly working in a tiny bit of “Runnin’ with The Devil.” Ed then happens upon a bluesy sounding tapping part and stops and mumbles something unintelligible about the blues and continues to play.] I was jamming with this guy the other day. Started doing this lick. [Ed executes a tapping lick]. I don’t know, I don’t know how to play like those fuckers—ah buh deed ah [unintelligible]. So I just thought, ‘I can do that’. I never tried that before. [He sits down and plays a lick and becomes very frustrated.] Oh, fuck! [James taps Ed on the elbow as if to suggest he calm down. As he shakes his head, he pauses, looks around briefly, and then plays a very simple plain rudimentary blues riff in a mocking way toward the guy that asked him to play the blues. The audience continues to yell out various requests for classic bits.] I don’t remember! And you’ll all get me on film, fucked or not. [He finally plays the intro to “Mean Streets” with a great deal of variation.] Let’s do it AOR style… [He plays “Mean Streets” at about a quarter speed for a few seconds.] Let’s do it country style… [He plays “Mean Streets” with some country flourishes. He continues on and eventually plays the full intro to “Mean Streets” as recorded in fairly haphazard fashion until he messes up the ending and halts abruptly.] Fuck! Man! It’s been, it’s been four years since I played the damn thing. [Ed goes back into “Mean Streets,” still not great, but better. Then he stands up and goes and stands in front of the amp for feedback. Eddie concludes this bizarre section of the act by violently banging the neck of the guitar against the top of the amp. He then turns to someone in the front row of the gathered crowd and actually steadied himself by putting his hand on their head. He then went back awkwardly to James and hit him on the top of the head with the neck of his guitar, in a joking but still rude manner. Ed then takes a seat and appears to apologize and James gives him the “don’t worry about it” shake off and they proceed to have a private conversation off mic. Ed then turns around with the cables for his guitar and microphone tangled up and then sits down.]

OK, I’m bored… [James and Ed continue to converse privately while Ed begins to play and works his way up into a loud interlude. The entire time, he is constantly changing between parts and songs and styles—just start and stop. He utters something completely unintelligible. He continues to play until he eventually gets to the point where he abruptly stops playing yet again.] Fuck, man! I wanna play! [As he is sitting, his knees are jumping and jittering with personal disgust.] I’ve been playing piano and cello so much this thing is like a two-by-four to me right now. [He continues to play in varying styles and is actually playing better at this point. His improvisation is all over the map and he finally gets up to a relatively dramatic climax and stops cold; the crowd applauds.] I wrote this fuckin’ boogie man, it’s so fast… [He gets himself prepped and whips out bits of a truly amazing riff going against his agitated pledge to play nothing new. He plays the same riff for a while before venturing into a very slow a painful wail over and over and over.] The blues… [Ed continues to play in a bluesy fashion, and some licks are truly amazing.] That’s Skynrd’s classic lick. [He plays their trademark lick and continues to improvise as his strap falls down and he comes to a stop, breaking down.] Goddamn man, I hate this thing.