Van Halen — The Collection II
Qobuz reissue review (Oct. 2023)
They really should have changed the name to Van Hagar.
Regardless of your opinion on whether Sammy Hagar improved or diminished the quality of Van Halen’s music after replacing David Lee Roth as frontman — and, truly, there is no middle ground on this issue — there is no question that the band’s music was substantially different in those two eras. Eddie Van Halen’s guitar sound is different (less “brown sound”). Alex Van Halen’s drum sound is different (simultaneously fussier and less interesting). Michael Anthony is lost in the mix. The production approach is radically different (more congested and cold, far less live-sounding). It’s all just … different and this decidedly unique listening experience also resulted in a decidedly unique cultural experience. The Roth albums are, despite (or because of) their thorough immaturity and occasional stupidity, held closely to the hearts of millions of people, and that lineup of Van Halen means something to a great many rock fans. The Hagar era was, like it’s mid-’80s-to-early-’90s milieu, far more lucrative but also more professionalized and less personal. Hagar’s albums hit multi-platinum status within months of their releases and the band was hurling singles to the top of the charts throughout the four-album run (yes, they even had a Top 40 hit from Balance); still, it’s safe to say that far fewer people love any of those albums as much as even the most casual fan of Diver Down does. That delta of “meaningfulness” could be what accounts for the fact that this remastered set of Hagar-era albums is coming nearly a decade after the Roth albums were remastered and packaged up in a hi-res Collection, but whatever the reason for the delay has been, it’s fair to say (even for those with no love for the Hagar years) that this set is long overdue. Hearing these albums presented together does provide some new perspective on what Hagar gave the band, collects a handful of rare tracks from the era, and, more importantly, gives a much-needed sonic overhaul to albums like 5150 and OU812 that suffered from thin digital masters that did little to burnish their reputations.
5150
For younger listeners who may have trouble remembering that Sammy Hagar and Guy Fieri are two different people, the clunky food-as-sex metaphors of “Good Enough” won’t do much to help unwind their confusion. That song — blown open with Sammy Hagar’s bellowing, try-hard “Helooooo, baaay-byyy” — was a generation’s introduction to Van Halen, Mk II, and it was an instant line in the sand. On paper, 5150 hit all the notes of a “classic” Van Halen album, with brain-melting guitar lines, bombastic drum lines, hard-rock harmonies, and a show-off lead singer belting out lyrics that were kinda dumb and kinda naughty, but meant to inspire a good time. The thing was, the blueprint was different than the final build, and not only did Hagar bring his own signature moves (half-dork, half-corporate rocker), but the Van Halen brothers had also significantly altered their instrumental approaches in the two years since 1984 to be busier and more sharply defined, aided along by a decidedly more crystalline production approach. (They even changed the Van Halen logo!) Thus, 5150 was — both metaphorically and probably literally — a fine-tuned Lamborghini compared to the Roth era’s hot-rodded street racer, resulting in a high-gloss, high-performance effort that yielded multiple hits (“Dreams,” “Why Can’t This Be Love,” “Best of Both Worlds”) and was double-platinum two months after it came out.
OU812
About halfway through OU812 — the beginning of “Source of Infection,” to be exact — Van Halen explicitly nods to their past, with a slash-and-burn guitar/drums showcase that’s all fire and flair and warm-blooded rock ’n’ roll that sounds a whole lot like “Hot For Teacher” right until the moment where Sammy Hagar chews his way into the scene with a weird “hey fellow teens, let’s party” vibe that sounds like your dad singing Sweet’s “Ballroom Blitz.” It’s simultaneously the best and worst moment on this odd, middling album. OU812 manages to contain two of the latter-day lineup’s most iconic hits (“When It’s Love” and “Finish What Ya Started”) along with some of its strangest missteps (the languid and directionless “Black and Blue,” the obnoxiously dumb “Cabo Wabo”). Thankfully, there are plenty of moments of dazzling instrumental brilliance that show that Eddie Van Halen was, ironically, playing at a creative and technical peak that unfortunately isn’t matched by the bland corporate rock of the songwriting and the equally by-the-numbers approach of Hagar’s vocals.
For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge
Three years would pass between OU812 and 1991’s For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge, and not only was that the longest gap between Van Halen albums to date, but that time period also saw the world collectively turn from the stadium rock of Van Halen to the upcoming alternative rock revolution; Nevermind would be released three months after Unlawful, but the winds of change were blowing briskly while Van Halen spent a year (!) recording this album. The Van Halen that emerged here was a dramatically changed one; complexity and intensity replaced riffs and swagger, and there’s an uncomfortably melodramatic seriousness to even the dumb numbers (“Spanked” is about phone sex but it’s more dour than dirty). Of course, this is the album on which Eddie plays guitar with a drill (“Poundcake”), as well as the home of two mega-hits “Right Now” and “Top of the World” (which are both, incredibly, sequenced at the album’s close), but it’s otherwise a slog to listen to, as dense as it is unremarkable.
Balance
Balance features some of Van Halen’s most interesting musical work, with complex song structures, virtuosic playing, and dense arrangments … all of which are topped off with Sammy Hagar’s yelping screech of a voice. Van Halen — or at least most of Van Halen — had taken its cues from the alt-rock revolution and, with Balance, set out to make an album that showcased an expanded pallette of creativity, and whether it’s the chanting monks of “The Seventh Seal” (truly one of the most adventurous and rewarding tracks in the Van Halen catalog), three (!) instrumental tracks, or even the relatively straightforward swagger of “Aftershock,” Balance has more than its fair share of moments that remind you that Eddie Van Halen was a musical genius. But Hagar’s presence — both vocally and lyrically (“Amsterdam” is positively cringe-worthy) — continually drags the proceedings down so badly that it’s unsurprising that they parted ways with the Red Rocker after the Balance tour ended.
