A Different Kind of Truth
Note to every middle-aged rock band looking to stage a big comeback this year: take your cues from Van Halen.
Like a cat with nine lives (and several pairs of spandex pants), Van Halen keeps taking a fall and getting back up again. Three singers and two bass players have cycled through the group’s ranks. Now, after a 14-year break from the recording studio, the band is back for the umpteenth time, recording its first album with original frontman David Lee Roth since “1984.”
Even with Diamond Dave onboard, “A Different Kind of Truth” has a lot of hurdles to clear. Eddie Van Halen’s 20-year-old son is playing bass, for starters, and Mr. Roth — once the poster child for living life like a wild, hedonistic adolescent — is now in his mid-50s. Remember those midair splits he used to do? Consider them a thing of the past.
Still, “A Different Kind of Truth” is the most classic-sounding thing to emerge from the Van Halen camp in two decades. Wolfgang, the youngest Van Halen, makes his debut as an aggressive, nimble-fingered bass player, and father Eddie is in fine form, too, churning up a whirlwind of pop-metal riffs. The guys pretty much ignore any musical trend that emerged during the 28-year interim between Mr. Roth’s exit and this album’s release, focusing instead on songs that would’ve sounded contemporary during the mid-1980s.
Like a phoenix rising from the ashes of the Sunset Strip’s glory days, Van Halen seems to have gotten its mojo back. Or maybe the guys just needed Diamond Dave, who celebrates his return with a mix of showbiz camp and hard rock swagger. He’s still a chameleonic singer, crooning the melodies one minute and yelping his way around Eddie’s finger-tapped guitar solos the next.
“I told you I was coming back,” he huffs during “Blood and Fire,” one of the album’s hardest rocking songs. “Say you missed me [and] say it like you mean it.” As if he had to twist our arm.
Kisses on the Bottom
Paul McCartney’s voice hasn’t exactly soured over the years, but it’s certainly lost some of its spry charm, the victim of 50-plus years of near-constant use.