VAN HALEN Van Halen (Warner Bros.) 

Even 30 years after the fact, Van Halen’s combination of hard rock and bubblegum pop seems innovative right from opener “Runnin’ With The Devil”, its crazy amalgam of “Toys In The Attic” and “Frampton Comes Alive” practically a licence to print greenbacks in late 70s America. Surprisingly, there’s some substance behind the style: Diamond Dave can sing and Eddie can certainly play, as evinced by plank-pleasurer “Eruption”. (Listening to the latter for the nth time, I realised that The KLF appropriated fragments of it for their ambient house magnum opus “Chill Out”.) A cover of “You Really Got Me” further affirms their popular metallics credo, and an initially acoustic version of Chicago bluesman John Brim’s “Ice Cream Man” provides this pony with a second trick. On top of which, this version of the Halen had a gift for writing so-dumb-they’re-clever songs, practically soaked in self-confidence and polished to a glinting perfection. Admittedly Roth doesn’t exactly helium scream “I like titties and beer!” at any point, but there’s little to ameliorate the impression that these are his chief concerns, and the band’s aesthetic, glammed up and roughed up, was surely responsible for launching a million hair metal bands from Guns N’ Roses downwards. But we can hardly blame them for that. For one shining half hour, “Van Halen” is the best frat-rock album in the world ever, and for that it should be celebrated.

 In its latest 180 gram vinyl incarnation, “Van Halen” also sounds very fine, and its recreation of the US issue’s original issue is exact right down to the inclusion of the black and white insert rather than the colour one that graced later pressings.

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