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And the hits just keep on comin'....
Concert Review: Van Halen
Thu Jul 22, 2004 01:54 AM ET
By Jeff Vrabel
CHICAGO (Billboard) - For lack of a better theme -- and lack of a better way to score dependable crowds -- 2004 is going down as the Summer of the Reunion/Best-Of Arena Tour.
Prince is staging multi-night stands across the land with his glowingly received first "hits" tour in years; Madonna's similar venture has been unenthusiastically reviewed but no less well-attended.
But the tale of Van Halen is a little more complex. At this point in the game, attempting to document the band's chronology and record of lead singer switcheroos (what Dennis Miller once called "rock's equivalent of the Dick Sargent/Dick York controversy") has become exhausting and kind of comical. Suffice it to say that when Van Halen announced this "comeback" tour, they did it with the eight-years-gone Sammy Hagar, said he'd sing David Lee Roth's songs, dropped some stock lines about it being the right time and largely left it at that.
Such calculated simplicity is transparent and briefly off-putting, but eventually it proves, well, welcome. Thinking too much about Van Halen is like writing a doctorate on "Spaceballs." Indeed, eager fans packed Chicago's sold-out United Center not to debate Roth vs. Hagar or wonder where one-time vocalist Gary Cherone might have gone. They were there to hear the hits (and they did, with a few monstrous exceptions), marvel at Eddie's nimble-as-ever fingers ripping into bits of "Eruption" (they did) and hear Hagar faithfully belt out songs spanning the eras.
What resulted was the too-stock definition of a greatest hits show, one with an identical set most nights, that came complete with an army's worth of fist-pumping and golden-god preening. It found each member -- Hagar, Eddie Van Halen, bassist Michael Anthony and drummer Alex Van Halen -- welcomed as a conquering hero during their respective solos (when Eddie triumphantly held up the kitschy electric drill that helps open "Poundcake," he held it aloft like the spoils of battle).
But it was a show that boasted none of the timeless triumph of Prince's, nor the showmanship of Madonna's, and for that matter, it lacked the continued potency of Bruce Springsteen or the nostalgic power of the Rolling Stones. The 2004 incarnation of Van Halen has noticeably less gas, is glitchier and more ragged, and produced a show that only occasionally red-lined and failed to build up much momentum.
In its most grievous pacing error, a blazing "Unchained" and a dated but nicely synth-kissed "Why Can't This Be Love" led directly into ... a two-song Sammy Hagar solo set that included the indigestible "Eagles Fly" and a guitar solo. Why Hagar spent any time doodling around with a guitar while Eddie Van Halen puttered around backstage is a musical question for the ages.
That said, credit Hagar, 56, for maintaining his trademark energy level throughout a generous two-plus hours, and the shirtless and ripped Eddie Van Halen, 49, for his successful comeback from a hip replacement, tongue cancer and the breakup of his 20-year marriage. Still, the fact remained that Hagar fought a losing battle with the high notes all night, often ceding the choruses to Anthony (the otherwise fiery "Runaround") and the crowd ("Top of the World").
Almost 30 years in, and despite its twists and turns, the Van Halen lead singer controversy continues to polarize fans, and on this night the Roth songs reigned as king -- when they materialized. For a show billed as career-spanning, it was heavy on the Hagar, and a lot of the insufferable prom-theme material such as "When It's Love" and "Dreams" at that. That said, the first set-closer "Right Now" got a surprisingly amped-up reading as an updated version of the seminal video played behind the band ("Right now, a 13-year-old is illegally downloading this song").
But there was a discernible jacking-up of the energy level when Eddie ripped into the opening riffs of "Unchained," "Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love" and the band's blistering cover of the Kinks' "You Really Got Me" (though nagging guitar glitches sabotaged the latter, as they did an otherwise frothy "Panama"). Hagar took a few for the team by gamely tackling them -- really, 18 years into the Sammy regime, no one should have any bones about him covering Dave's stuff.
Conversely, three new tracks from the "Best Of Both Worlds" hits package virtually begged to be ignored. "Up for Breakfast" resorts to an unending stream of groan-worthy clunkers such as "She puts the cream in my coffee/the butter on my biscuit," and the abysmal "It's About Time" is half nostalgic call-to-arms ("Turn your clock back/paint it red on black/bring it all right back"), half apology for the recent years Van Halen has failed to appropriately rock its fans ("Right now making up for lost time, yeah").
Clearly, Van Halen's intentions are good; they do want to make up for that time, and they do know how to host the party. But they're bringing little new to it, and their ability to replicate it suitably is slowly losing power. Too often, on this night, anyway, they sounded like a band running out of comebacks.
Concert Review: Van Halen
Thu Jul 22, 2004 01:54 AM ET
By Jeff Vrabel
CHICAGO (Billboard) - For lack of a better theme -- and lack of a better way to score dependable crowds -- 2004 is going down as the Summer of the Reunion/Best-Of Arena Tour.
Prince is staging multi-night stands across the land with his glowingly received first "hits" tour in years; Madonna's similar venture has been unenthusiastically reviewed but no less well-attended.
But the tale of Van Halen is a little more complex. At this point in the game, attempting to document the band's chronology and record of lead singer switcheroos (what Dennis Miller once called "rock's equivalent of the Dick Sargent/Dick York controversy") has become exhausting and kind of comical. Suffice it to say that when Van Halen announced this "comeback" tour, they did it with the eight-years-gone Sammy Hagar, said he'd sing David Lee Roth's songs, dropped some stock lines about it being the right time and largely left it at that.
Such calculated simplicity is transparent and briefly off-putting, but eventually it proves, well, welcome. Thinking too much about Van Halen is like writing a doctorate on "Spaceballs." Indeed, eager fans packed Chicago's sold-out United Center not to debate Roth vs. Hagar or wonder where one-time vocalist Gary Cherone might have gone. They were there to hear the hits (and they did, with a few monstrous exceptions), marvel at Eddie's nimble-as-ever fingers ripping into bits of "Eruption" (they did) and hear Hagar faithfully belt out songs spanning the eras.
What resulted was the too-stock definition of a greatest hits show, one with an identical set most nights, that came complete with an army's worth of fist-pumping and golden-god preening. It found each member -- Hagar, Eddie Van Halen, bassist Michael Anthony and drummer Alex Van Halen -- welcomed as a conquering hero during their respective solos (when Eddie triumphantly held up the kitschy electric drill that helps open "Poundcake," he held it aloft like the spoils of battle).
But it was a show that boasted none of the timeless triumph of Prince's, nor the showmanship of Madonna's, and for that matter, it lacked the continued potency of Bruce Springsteen or the nostalgic power of the Rolling Stones. The 2004 incarnation of Van Halen has noticeably less gas, is glitchier and more ragged, and produced a show that only occasionally red-lined and failed to build up much momentum.
In its most grievous pacing error, a blazing "Unchained" and a dated but nicely synth-kissed "Why Can't This Be Love" led directly into ... a two-song Sammy Hagar solo set that included the indigestible "Eagles Fly" and a guitar solo. Why Hagar spent any time doodling around with a guitar while Eddie Van Halen puttered around backstage is a musical question for the ages.
That said, credit Hagar, 56, for maintaining his trademark energy level throughout a generous two-plus hours, and the shirtless and ripped Eddie Van Halen, 49, for his successful comeback from a hip replacement, tongue cancer and the breakup of his 20-year marriage. Still, the fact remained that Hagar fought a losing battle with the high notes all night, often ceding the choruses to Anthony (the otherwise fiery "Runaround") and the crowd ("Top of the World").
Almost 30 years in, and despite its twists and turns, the Van Halen lead singer controversy continues to polarize fans, and on this night the Roth songs reigned as king -- when they materialized. For a show billed as career-spanning, it was heavy on the Hagar, and a lot of the insufferable prom-theme material such as "When It's Love" and "Dreams" at that. That said, the first set-closer "Right Now" got a surprisingly amped-up reading as an updated version of the seminal video played behind the band ("Right now, a 13-year-old is illegally downloading this song").
But there was a discernible jacking-up of the energy level when Eddie ripped into the opening riffs of "Unchained," "Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love" and the band's blistering cover of the Kinks' "You Really Got Me" (though nagging guitar glitches sabotaged the latter, as they did an otherwise frothy "Panama"). Hagar took a few for the team by gamely tackling them -- really, 18 years into the Sammy regime, no one should have any bones about him covering Dave's stuff.
Conversely, three new tracks from the "Best Of Both Worlds" hits package virtually begged to be ignored. "Up for Breakfast" resorts to an unending stream of groan-worthy clunkers such as "She puts the cream in my coffee/the butter on my biscuit," and the abysmal "It's About Time" is half nostalgic call-to-arms ("Turn your clock back/paint it red on black/bring it all right back"), half apology for the recent years Van Halen has failed to appropriately rock its fans ("Right now making up for lost time, yeah").
Clearly, Van Halen's intentions are good; they do want to make up for that time, and they do know how to host the party. But they're bringing little new to it, and their ability to replicate it suitably is slowly losing power. Too often, on this night, anyway, they sounded like a band running out of comebacks.
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