Jake Brennan (2:35)
Quince.com Disgraceland Disgraceland is a production of Double Elvis. This is a story about a modern day warrior. A man with a code, a man out of time, a musician with a take no shit violence streak, a Beretta to the head of Limp Bizkit's Fred Durst. A military assault vehicle tearing ass through the tony streets of Beverly Hills. It's about an Alex, a Michael, a Sammy, even a Dave. And of course, it's about an Eddy. This is a story about Van Halen and one of the four guitarists who belongs on the Mount Rushmore of guitar playing. It's about a band who made great music, unlike that music I played for you at the top of the show. That wasn't great music. That was a preset loop from my melotron called Let me get some of that pod cake mk1. I played you that loop because I can't afford the rights to these Dreams by heart. And why would I play you that specific slice of authentic sibling cheese could I afford it? Because that was the number one song in America on March 24, 1986. And that was the day that Van halen released their seventh studio album, 5150, their first with new lead singer Sammy Hagar. An album that allowed the band to reach new commercial heights while unresolved problems continued to bubble unseen beneath the surface. On this episode, anthemic sibling cheese, a military assault vehicle, a Beretta, a Code and Van Halen. I'm Jake Brennan and this is Disgrace. Eddie Van Halen jammed his combat boot down on the gas pedal. The assault vehicle he'd recently bought at auction roared to life, tearing ass down the quiet streets of upscale Beverly Hills. There was no weapon in the machine gun mount, but that didn't make the vehicle any more street legal. This decommissioned slab of government steel was very much illegal, but Eddie didn't care. Just like he didn't care about the gun he was holding. He was on a mission, and to carry out that mission, he required a certain level of comfort. Beverly Hills made him uncomfortable. And that's not because he wasn't welcome. It was 2001, after all, and Eddie Van Halen, the guitar player of his generation, the one and the same who just decades earlier had reinvented the instrument and in many ways revitalized a genre, was very rich and very famous. It was the pretension that bugged him, though. The vulgar display of one's wealth, status and power. Eddie didn't play that Game. He wasn't a star. He was just a regular guy, a kid stuck in a grown man's body who liked to play guitar. But if you went and did something dumb like keep one of his guitars locked up in your fancy mansion and then did something equally dumb like not answer his phone calls to arrange a time for him to come pick up that guitar like a normal person, that kind of Beverly Hills bullshit lit a fire under Eddie Van Halen's regular ass. So Eddie Van Halen tore ass in his military assault vehicle through the 90210 zip code. With no shirt on. His tattered pants were being held up by a piece of rope while he drove. And the boots on his feet, the ones that were managing the gas pedal and the brake at the moment, those were wrapped up in duct tape. And his long hair was up in a bun as a samurai in feudal Japan centuries ago would have worn it. And just like those samurais of old, Eddie Van Halen sought enlightenment, believed in salvation, and lived by a code. Enlightenment came through his music. Salvation came from within. And his code was governed by three points. Honor, discipline, and morality. This was how he lived his life, or how he tried to, at least. And God rewards those who seek him. And all of that. Eddie Van Halen was a seeker, a searcher, just like that other iconic American, John Wayne, a man who made westerns about anti hero cowboys that often borrowed from Japanese samurai films. The same ones who wore their hair like Eddie was now wearing his samurais. Cowboys, John Wayne, Eddie Van Halen. It was all connected. And now, at 46 years old, with the days of routinely putting up hits on the Billboard charts seemingly behind him, Eddie Van Halen's purpose was more elusive than ever. In a shifting landscape of grunge, new metal and Britney Spears, Eddie sought more than just his signature tone. He was looking for yet another new singer for the band that bore his name, Van Halen. A band which had famously or infamously burned through three vocalists over the course of its story career. I'll get to all that in a minute. He was looking for meaning, too, after recently separating from his wife of two decades, Valerie Bertinelli. And he was looking for a cure for the cancer that was growing in his tongue. But at this very moment, what Eddie Van Halen was really looking for was his guitar. And he knew just where it was held captive. Inside the Beverly Hills home of one Fred Durst, that backwards red hat enthusiast and lead vocalist of Limp Bizkit, the band which just two years earlier had incited a riot at Woodstock 99 with their macho fucko anthem break stuff. Today, however, it was Eddie who was doing the inciting. He drove his assault vehicle onto Fred's well manicured front lawn, put it in park, or however you get those things to stop and let it idle nice and loud. He jumped from the driver's seat, pulled the gun from his waistband. It made a beeline for the front door of the house. He knocked. Red hat answered. Eddie wasted no time. He put his gun to that stupid fucking lid sitting on top of Fred Durst's stupid fucking face and said, hey, where's my shit, motherfucker? 24 hours earlier, the vibe was way different. Eddie was hanging out with Fred, a man he'd only just met, and he was hanging out with him inside of Fred's house, jamming with Limp Bizkit, minus guitarist Wes Borland, who had recently left the group. Now, if you know anything about Eddie Van Halen and about Limp Bizkit, you're probably thinking, what the fuck? And yeah, even Fred Durst himself, when a mutual friend suggested he audition Eddie for Limp Bizkit's new lead guitarist, said, and I quote, that would be hilarious. The greatest guitar player ever jams with the worst band ever again. That's a Fred Durst quote. But also consider Eddie Van Halen hadn't actually bought a new record since Peter Gabriel's album so, which came out in 1986. That's 15 years before the scene that I'm describing to you took place. So it's entirely plausible that Eddie Van Halen had no idea what he was getting into when he agreed to jam with Limp Bizkit. Maybe in this vulnerable moment of searching for something new, maybe Eddie was just open to an opportunity, any opportunity. Just like he and Van Halen were once upon a time open to crazy opportunities as well, like jamming with Joe Cocker or Ozzy Osbourne and even Darrell hall to fill their lead singers empty shoes. No shit, look it up. But the insane pipe dream of Limp Bizkit with Eddie Van Halen on lead guitar was not meant to be. Eddie knew it as soon as he walked inside and was hit by a cloud of marijuana smoke. Smoke. Eddie didn't do weed. But when it came to Eddie's stimulant and depressant of choice, that'd be cocaine and alcohol, and they were tools to help him work, he thought, not something he used to unwind and party with the guys. Eddie told Fred, thanks, but no thanks. He bounced fast. Said he'd be back for his Guitar and gear. The next day. That next morning, he called Fred to schedule a time to go pick up his stuff. But Fred never answered. Fred never called him back. Fred Durst gave Eddie Van Halen the brush off. And now Fred Durst was regretting that decision, that inaction, that lack of respect. Or so Eddie Van Halen would like to think. The greatest guitar player ever was standing on the lawn of the frontman of the worst band ever, still aiming his gun at that stupid fucking hat while some clowns on Fred's payroll loaded gear into Eddie's assault vehicle. And this. This was such a bad idea, Eddie thought to himself. There was only one musician he was compatible with, and I mean compatible in the eternal mind meld kind of way, and that was his big brother, Alex, Van Halen's drummer. No other musical relationship ever lasted. Not with David Lee Roth, Van Halen's original lead singer, who, depending on who you ask, either quit or was fired from the band back in 1985. And definitely not with Gary Sharon, the guy from Extreme whose, tenured. Whereas Van Halen's frontman at the end of the 90s was as short as one of the cigarettes that burned down to the filter in the headstock of Eddie's guitar, Then there was the one they called the red rocker, Sammy Hagar. He eventually went the way of Diamond Dave, out on the skids after his initial winning dynamic with the Van Halen brothers turned sour. But not before he helped take the band higher and higher. Straight up, they climbed higher than they had ever gone before or since. Eddie wanted to go there again. Not for the money or the fame. He had all that he wanted. Relevance. He wanted to matter again. What had it been six years since Sammy left? Eddie wondered if it was all just water under the bridge. If you could go home again. And as he watched Fred Durst's muscle load his gear into his illegal assault vehicle, Eddie Van Halen decided to do two things pronto. Number one, get the out of Beverly Hills before he was handcuffed and tossed into the back of a police cruiser. And number two, ring up his old friend Sammy Hagar. Foreign.