With Van Halen returning to Nashville for the first time in
over a decade this Friday, I got to thinking about some true tales of
interaction with them in my past. The
first time I encountered them was March 3, 1978 deep in the bowels of the
infamous Aragon Ballroom when this unknown quartet was the opener of a three
act bill that also featured Ronnie Montrose’s fusion rock quintet, and the
newly revamped Journey with pretty boy lead singer Steve Perry.
Van Halen’s eponymous first album had just been released a
few weeks before, and their cover of The Kink’s “You Really Got Me” was
garnering strong airplay due to Eddie Van Halen’s scorching six string
pyrotechnics and David Lee Roth’s reimagining of Black Oak Arkansas’ Jim
“Dandy” Mangrum. The boys from Pasadena only had a twenty-five minute slot, but
they cranked it. My visit with them was quite short after the show as they were
leaving the hall just about the time that Journey was exiting from their final
encore.
However, five months later Van Halen was on a long trek
opening for Black Sabbath, and on one of their off days from Ozzy and company,
they were booked into a small dive near Paddock Lake in southern Wisconsin that
became the source of mythic legend: did they actually play a concert at a
converted dairy barn while they were the number one band in America? The answer is yes. It was, quite literally, a three-story cattle
stable that had been converted into a biker bar. The stage was a former second level hayloft
with a huge weight-bearing timber column running vertically right down the
center and bordered with rough-hewn pine slat railing to keep performers from
falling fifteen feet to the main floor below. I had been at other gigs there in
it’s first year of operation including shows by Eddie Money, Starcastle, and
The Dictators (featuring Handsome Dick Manitoba), and I swear you could still
smell remnants of manure and bovine piss when the place got heated up with
wall-to-wall humanity.
By this time, Van Halen’s star had risen to the point where
they were responsible for selling nearly half the tickets at the Sabbath gigs,
and their debut record had already gone multi-platinum. It seemed odd that they were playing this gig
in such an obscure rural outpost, but the word had gotten out, and there were
already cars from four states represented in the parking field by 5:00 PM for
this rare headlining set.
Due to my relationship with Warner Brothers as a Program
Director at a local rock station, and my writing gig for area magazines, I was
able to hang with the guys during their sound check and meal. Even as an opener for bigger bands, they were
used to more space to work with than this cramped excuse for a stage. Despite the close quarters, Eddie still
insisted on having his replica of the Little Boy Atomic Bomb that was dropped
on Hiroshima next to his Marshall stacks.
There was barely room for anyone to move more than five feet, and this
was going to be especially challenging for front man Roth’s histrionics. You
could see them looking at each other in bemused wonder as their crushing sound
caused sawdust to filter down through the early evening sunbeams cutting
through the planked walls.
After getting their levels, it was difficult getting a read
on Diamond Dave as we chatted in an area that was once a horse stall. I could
never tell if he was stoned, or just incredibly laid back in that Valley Boy
kinda way. His eyes were bloodshot and
bleary, and he did guffaw with that stoner stammer, but then he could also
sound quite erudite and clever at times in a tone that belied an altered
state. He was one of those guys that
never, ever gave a straight answer to any question. Eddie, on the other hand, was shy but genuine
in his interactions. Alex Van Halen was
distracted and seemed a bit peeved about the cramped condition of his drums (I
think they had to reduce his kit in order to accommodate everything that was
necessary on the “stage”). Michael
Anthony was quite outgoing, and the most forthcoming and relaxed of the lot.
Despite the less than ideal circumstances, the band gave a
rousing performance to the thousand or so that were packed into quarters
designed for perhaps half that. They played nearly every song from the debut
album, plus at least four that would be featured on their soon-to-be-released Vol. II album. And then there were Eddie’s
extended “Eruption” solo and spotlight moments for drums and bass, too. There was no doubting that this band had the
goods, even under these less than ideal circumstances. And since I believe I
was the only sober, non-buzzed observer or participant in attendance within
that bizarre silo, I can attest that the concert did, indeed, take place.
Fast-forward several years for the second story that has
remained a mystery until this moment.
Van Halen had now earned two multi-platinum albums, and every radio
programmer and promoter in the planet considered them amongst the rock elite. Anticipation for their third album, Women and Children First, was building
with each passing month. By this time, I
had left the radio industry, and was now Marketing Director for Dog Ear
Records, a chain of eight stores in the northern suburbs of Chicago. I was
still writing for several rock rags on the side. Part of my duties included making the rounds
to the local distributorships of the major labels to pick up the latest
merchandising materials for new releases, promo albums for in-store play, and
commiserate with sales people on how to best position product in our stores. At the WEA (Warner/Electra/Atlantic)
warehouse in Elk Grove Village, I had good relationships with various crew
throughout the building, and sometimes they would give me stuff before other
folks in town. As one of the guys was
handing me some promotional copies of new discs by Blondie, Rod Stewart, Linda
Ronstadt, and The Eagles, I off-handedly asked if he might have a copy of the
new “Big Boys’” disc (as they referred to Van Halen).
I was stunned when he said, “Well, if you keep it under your
hat, sure…I’ll give you one so you can write up a good review for some of your
publications for next month so the news will be fresh when the album hits the
streets in these next few weeks.“ There was near top-secret security around
this sort of thing, especially in a market as competitive as Chicago.
I matter-of-factly said, “Of course,” as he opened a thin
box with just a few of the twelve-inch discs in it, and handed me one. With my
heart pumping, I exited the building as quickly as I could before anyone
realized what had just happened.
Earlier that morning I had heard DJ Sky Daniels on “The
Loop” (WLUP, the number one rock station in the market) talking-up how they
were going to have the exclusive premier of Women
and Children First in four days.
They were in fierce ratings wars with WMET and WKQX for the baby boomer
rock demographic that dominated that era.
I realized that I not only had a rarity on my hands from a journalistic
perspective, but I also had potential gold in my hands from the broadcast realm
to boot.
So, I took a detour back to my house and made a cassette and
reel-to-reel copy of the album, and then went to my office at the back of our
Northbrook store and called my boss.
Even though we were one of the leading chains in the northern suburbs of
Chicago, we were probably fourth in the entire market in sales, and had to
scratch for much of what we could earn, and didn’t have nearly the marketing
dollars that the larger chains had. We
were the first to mass market used record sales, rent videos, and incorporate
video gaming into our offerings. And our
customer loyalty was good due to our intense desire to fulfill even the most
obscure special orders. But still, media
partners did not usually pick us first for many special promotions. I suggested to Rick, the president of our
little enterprise, that we could probably parlay this Van Halen disc into some
substantial on-air trade-out with one of the other two stations in order for
them to get the jump on “The Loop” by airing it first. He agreed, but warned that we needed to be
very careful so that the WEA folks could trace none of this back to me.
Then I called my friends at WMET first, figuring that they
might be willing to play ball more readily since a major media conglomerate
didn’t own them as WKQX was by NBC. I was quickly put through to the GM who was
anxious to do anything to put a chink in “The Loop’s” armor. I was somewhat audacious in my proposal for
substantial and specific trade-out in advertising and promotional tie-ins for
the next year, but they were so desperate for this opportunity that they
agreed. They wanted to hear a bit of it
first, so I put it on our store turntable and played some through the phone so
they felt assured that it was indeed Eddie, D-Roth, and the guys. Within 40 minutes a bonded deliveryman
arrived to take the non-descript sealed brown bag with the stereo reel-to-reel
dub and the photocopy of the album art to WMET downtown. They excitedly called me back when they
received it, and they were nearly bouncing off the walls with excitement.
Within an hour they announced to their listeners that they would be airing the
new Van Halen in its entirety the next day.
“The Loop” was furious, because they didn’t actually have
their copy yet, and they angrily confronted their representative at WEA. Within minutes major chaos reigned at their
warehouse as they tried to figure out how a copy had gotten into WMET’s
hands. It wasn’t that it was just going
to be previewed ahead of their competitor across town…it was going to be ahead
of every other station in the world…and they were pissed.
The lower level promotion guy who had given me the advance
disc called and asked if I still had the album, and I told him I did. He never asked if I had made a dub and
forwarded that along, and, of course, I never volunteered that info. No one ever figured it out as far as I am
aware. WMET’s lips were sealed, and they
were incredibly grateful for the scoop they got on their biggest competitor. As
a result, Dog Ear Records shared in some
great promotional partnerships with them over the next twelve months and
beyond.
That was 32 years ago, and I am finally coming clean. Those wondering if the mighty Van Halen ever
really played in an animal shed in the rolling Kettle Moraine hills of
Wisconsin, or were curious about how the scandal surrounding the Chitown radio
debut for Women and Children First
came to pass, well those rock ‘n’ roll mysteries can now be moved into the
verities column.
