Jesus jones
Gary Cherone gets serious with Van Halen
by Matt Ashare
Perhaps the best post-Extreme role singer Gary Cherone has ever played was the
lead in a production of Jesus Christ Superstar. The dark, brooding
quality of Cherone's '80s-metal-screamer voice, and his humorless emotional
delivery, which comes across as a severe kind of naïveté, are a
perfect match for the pretensions of rock opera in general, and well suited to
the character of Jesus of Nazareth. Plus, in the Boston Rock Opera production
of the Tim Rice/Andrew Lloyd Webber classic, you got the bonus of watching
various members of the local underground music scene crucify a bona fide
mainstream-rock star, which added a special resonance and immediacy to
Cherone's playacting. That Cherone was able to appear deaf to the humorous
implications of the role only heightened the message of the musical. You were,
you know, sort of psyched when they nailed him to the cross, and you also felt
a little guilty about it.
Cherone, as anyone who saw MTV's Week in Review news show last weekend
now knows, lives. In fact, he's taken the lead in another musical tragicomedy
-- the Van Halen saga. Only the ending has yet to be written for this one. It's
a story that began a little over 20 years ago, when an ambitious frontguy named
David Lee Roth saved Edward and Alex Van Halen from settling into the LA
hard-rock cover-band rut and, having persuaded the virtuoso brothers to change
the band's name from Mammoth to Van Halen rather than the Black
Sabbath-inspired Rat Salade, helped them conquer the rock world. Roth was, as
Mick Jagger would say, a man of wealth and taste, but, really, it was his keen
sense of humor that set Van Halen apart. Miraculously, the band survived his
departure and, with the exception of that one European tour where they actually
opened for Bon Jovi, kept their dignity largely intact for a decade with false
idol Sammy Hagar in Roth's place.
Which brings us to Van Halen III (Warner Bros.), also known as the act
in which Gary could very well be made to suffer for Sammy's sins. You see,
Hagar brought to Van Halen two things the band simply didn't need --
run-of-the-mill rhythm-guitar playing and his meat-and-potatoes appeal to
heavy-metal kids, a demographic Van Halen don't need any help with. Hagar's a
hack whose brand of macho has been out of style since they raised the speed
limit to '65 -- a lump of coal to Roth's Diamond Dave, whose wicked wit
attracted a crowd looking for more than just a wicked fast guitar solo. And
though Edward and Alex Van Halen may be guilty of possessing bad taste and poor
judgment, they're not hacks. (Bassist Michael Anthony is the hack, but he's
always stayed out of the way.)
Enter Cherone, who's about as cheery as the mythical sandman, if somewhat
better-looking. He's no Diamond Dave either, but he's got substance and a kind
of vulnerable innocence that's not so far from the earnest gravity of an Eddie
Vedder or a Chris Cornell. The Van Halens tried the alterna-grunge thing with
Sammy, on "Humans Being" from the soundtrack to Twister, but who's gonna
take angst seriously from the mouth of a guy who gets all worked up about the
fact that he can't drive 55? Grave Gary's much more believable with his somber
expressions and dark, brooding good looks. And he's got a powerfully pained
voice to boot. When he's talkin' 'bout love, as he does on Van Halen
III's first single, "Without You," it's a spiritual thing, not a carnal
desire. Cherone's lyrics, as Eddie accurately told MTV, aren't all about female
body parts. Hell, not even "Fire in the Hole," a hard-rocking riff-heavy metal
screamer on the new disc with a title that both Dave and Sammy would have had
some fun with, has a lewd double entendre.
It's too late for Van Halen to throw in with the alternative nation, but
Cherone has arrived just in time to give the band a way to greet middle age
with a modicum of dignity. And inasmuch as he's both Eddie's and Alex's junior
(Cherone's 36, Alex and Eddie are in their 40s), his impact on the band has
been far greater than anyone might have predicted. For starters, it's the first
time Eddie's written music to words (instead of the other way around), and he
was so moved by Cherone's lyric writing that he actually takes a turn at lead
vocals (on the disc-closing piano ballad "How Many Say I").
The overall tone of the album is darker, more ponderous, and, well, less
frothy than Van Halen have been in the past, though Eddie's pyrotechnics are
still in full effect. In fact, in a lot of ways the band seem to be picking up
where Extreme left off with the high-concept art rock of their second-to-last
release, 1992's III Sides to Every Story. Or where Cherone himself was
last seen, indulging unblinkingly in the rock-operatics of Jesus Christ
Superstar. It's not as much fun as the old Van Halen, though there are some
awfully funny lines -- "Fat man, he's ordering seconds/Pizza man, he wants a
slice" is one of the gems in "One I Want." But it's a lot less painful than
listening to Eddie and Alex waste their talents on a hack like Sammy, and
that's enough to be thankful for right now.