Sell-out rock crowd relives an easier time
By Zeke Barlow

LOS ANGELES -- I guess the point of these reunion concert tours is to transport us back to a different, if not easier, time, when summers stretched on forever, the soundtrack of our carefree lives came belting out from a cheap boom box, and our most immediate worry was who was going to flip the cassette tape when the last guitar riff died.

The latest time-traveling audio spaceship came compliments of Van Halen last week at the Staples Center, where a sold-out crowd of middle-aged rockers descended to relive those days of big hair and blue jean jackets and all the teenage hormones, energy and angst that went along with them.

And for that, Van Halen did not disappoint.

For two hours, the boys in the band took everyone, including themselves, back to the days of their juvenile rock 'n' roll roots as they sang about lusting after schoolteachers and other pretty women, and being old enough to dance the night away.

Heads were banging. Fists were pumping. Guitars were screaming. Van Halen was back.

The man many fans considered the only real frontman the band ever had, David Lee Roth, was at the helm again, in all his Diamond Dave form, shticking and wide-mouthing for the audience, spinning flags and, yes, at 53, still karate kicking and screeching his way through the songs that defined so many teenage years.

At first, it looked like the boys had remained together since they first exploded onto the scene in 1978 with their self-titled album. On this night last week, there were no mentions of the three other singers who filled the post since the band first broke up in 1985 or the songs they sang.

When the lights fell, virtuoso Eddie Van Halen bled out the notes to "You Really Got Me" and Roth pranced on stage, waving a satin red flag as Alex Van Halen hammered a machine-gun tempo on his quadruple-bass drum set. The song looked and felt as fresh as when they made history recording it and the fans ate it up like they did when they had more hair and less belly.

But there were many differences over the next two hours.

Eddie and Diamond Dave seemed like two exes who agreed for the sake of the children to go through the motions of acting like they were together even though you could tell that there was an ugly divorce underneath the veneer. The two mainly stayed at opposite sides of the stage, playing their parts well but not fooling anyone that they were a whole.

Not that Eddie didn't show his love onstage. His son, with the impossible- to-live-up-to-moniker Wolfgang, has taken the place of original bassist Michael Anthony, yet another victim of the infighting that defines the band as much as screaming guitars. Whereas Anthony polished off bottles of Jack Daniels onstage, Wolfgang isn't old enough to vote.

Although a fine bass player, Wolfgang is too young to bring much to the performance, too inexperienced to know how to personify a rock star.

Indeed, his biggest contribution was bringing out his father's warm side. The two would touch foreheads as they wailed on their instruments, Eddie looking the part of a proud father. Wolfgang even shared some moments on the drum set with his uncle, showing that they were one big happy clan . and Roth merely a guest at the family dinner table.

For his part, Roth didn't seem to care; he had his true love, the crowd, and they loved him right back.

As he screamed through "Running with the Devil," "Pretty Woman" and "Everybody Wants Some," he did his magician/lounge singer/comedian shtick, perfecting it when he started off "Ice Cream Man" with an acoustic blues riff and detailed his days as a young rocker, smoking joints and living that carefree life every fan came to feel once more.

By the time Eddie played his transcendent solo, the crowd was transfixed.

I thought of the first time I saw Van Halen; it was my first rock concert some 21 years ago. A short 13-year-old, I watched Eddie's solo framed by the curtain of a taller teen's sweaty armpit. And I was in awe.

I can remember after the show, as Mom drove me home and the ringing still burned in my ears, thinking how I witnessed something awesome, something felt by everyone who went wild for a few hours and screamed at the top of their lungs to the band who screamed back at them all night.

As I drove myself home last week, ears ringing and throat sore, I felt that buzz all over again.

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