By Richard Bienstock
On October 4, 2015, Van Halen took the stage at the Hollywood Bowl for what turned out to be their final performance, concluding a remarkable era as one of rock’s most iconic and influential bands. The amphitheater is approximately 30 minutes from the modest 800-square-foot home in Pasadena, California, where the Van Halen siblings — drummer Alex and guitarist Eddie — spent their formative years. Yet their journey from that point led them around the globe, featuring the soaring triumphs and devastating lows that characterize rock ’n’ roll — glory, excess, and sorrow.
Alex, now 71, has cultivated a sense of gratitude for every part of that journey. During a video conversation one morning in September from his residence in the Los Angeles area, he recalled an old adage: “‘In the effort lies the reward.’” He was casually dressed in a blue checkered button-up shirt beneath a leather jacket, sporting sunglasses with his dark hair slicked back. On the otherwise unadorned wall behind him, a gold record for Van Halen’s 1978 self-titled debut album was displayed.
“That’s precisely how Ed and I felt,” he reflected. “The journey itself was the reward. And what a journey it’s been.”
That journey — at least the first three decades of it — is documented in “Brothers,” a book that was released last month, which Alex felt compelled to write following the loss of Eddie, his younger brother by nearly 20 months, to cancer in October 2020. He described the endeavor, undertaken with New Yorker writer Ariel Levy, as “a painful experience.” However, he noted, “you must endure the pain to reach the other side.”
As a formidable presence onstage, especially during Van Halen’s early days (think of him shirtless, energetically pounding away behind a huge drum kit in the 1981 video for “Unchained”), Alex was always more reticent with the media. He allowed the role of spokesperson to fall to the band’s flamboyant frontman, David Lee Roth, and to his brother, who was frequently celebrated as one of the preeminent guitarists of his era.
Though Eddie faced a long struggle with several types of cancer, his passing at 65 was still unforeseen. “We were gearing up to create another album,” Alex recalled of the time following the Hollywood Bowl concert. The news sparked an outpouring of grief from fans, family, friends, bandmates, and many prominent figures in the music industry. Yet Alex provided just a succinct public statement.
“Brothers” marks his return to sharing his thoughts. What motivated him to write it? “To provide more insight into what Ed truly represented,” he said. Regarding the immense focus placed on his brother, whether due to his groundbreaking guitar skills or, later in life, his struggles with addiction and health, he added, “When you’re in the limelight, others tend to speak for you. I wanted to remind everyone that Ed was not a mere object. He was a multifaceted human being.”
Alex, above all, knew this well; despite being brothers, they shared a deep connection. “Every single day, the first thing I did was call him,” he recounted. “We would converse, we would argue. But we were always there for one another.”
Donn Landee, the engineer and producer who collaborated with the brothers on Van Halen’s first eight albums, shared that Alex and Eddie were “a unit,” who were “either at odds or defending one another against everyone else. But they were absolutely inseparable.”
In the beginning, it was all about survival. Their family, led by their Dutch jazz musician father, Jan Van Halen, and Indonesian mother, Eugenia (“small yet strong,” Alex describes), came to America in 1962. Alex was 8, Eddie, 6; they spent many days on a boat traveling from Holland to New York, captivating the crew and other passengers by playing classical music on a Rippen piano, one of the few belongings the family carried overseas. That very instrument now resides in the hallway of Alex’s home.
“It symbolizes our entire journey to this country,” he stated, turning the camera to show the well-worn upright. What did he take away from it? “I learned to dislike it,” he replied with a chuckle.
The family eventually settled in Southern California, where Eugenia had relatives, and the brothers were captivated — by the blazing Southern California sunshine; by the influx of “Felix the Cat” cartoons on television; ultimately, Alex writes, by the “wildness and rebellion” inherent in rock ’n’ roll. However, they also felt like outsiders. Neither child spoke English, and their home life was often tumultuous; their parents had frequent arguments, and Jan struggled to secure stable employment in music, developing a worsening drinking problem along the way.
Alex exhibited a tougher demeanor, at times clashing physically with his father; Eddie, in Alex’s perspective, was “more sensitive.” In the book, he recounts his mother hearing Eddie practice guitar in his room, referring to his improvisations — which would eventually bring joy and amazement to countless listeners — as “that high crying noise.” “If our mother didn’t appreciate the sound of that wail, can you blame her?” he reflects. “It’s difficult to witness your child struggling.”
When the brothers teamed up with Roth, a Midwest transplant from a wealthy family, they found common ground despite their vastly different childhoods. “He was basically just like us,” Alex remarked. “He felt like an outsider.” Collectively, the three (along with bassist Michael Anthony) formed a vibrant, virtuosic band that created music rich with electrifying riffs, catchy melodies, and impressive guitar solos.
“All that energy from their childhood experiences found its way into the music,” Lukather stated.
“Brothers” effectively concludes around 1984, during the time of Van Halen’s initial departure from Roth. As Alex explained, this era, from the formation of the band to Roth’s exit, defined “the true, lively spirit of the group.” He also discusses his own challenges that followed — dealing with alcohol until the mid-’80s; later struggling with benzodiazepines after a neck injury flared up a decade afterward — but he dedicates more pages, both in word count and with emotional weight, to his brother’s struggles.
Eddie, he writes, displayed “flashes of true creativity” — the groundbreaking tapping sequences in “Eruption”; the unforgettable keyboard introduction to the chart-topping “Jump.” Alex suggests in the book that these moments, which endeared him to many, also haunted him. “One can spend a lifetime attempting to recreate past successes,” he writes. “I genuinely believe that’s what cost my brother his life.”
The trajectory Eddie took in later years, marked by substance use, unpredictable behavior in public, and unorthodox theories about his cancer’s origin, is one that Alex is still grappling with. Reflecting on it all, he expressed, “it truly, truly made me furious. I wanted to shake him and say, ‘What the [expletive] were you thinking, Ed?’ But it’s too late now.”
However, “Brothers” does not center on regret. Instead, it’s a narrative of understanding, acceptance, and love. Above all, it speaks to humanity. “If you’re going to tell the story, it’s essential to give equal weight to both the good and the bad,” Alex stated. “Because the good doesn’t make sense without the bad.”
“I realize that sounds like philosophical nonsense,” he added. “But I genuinely wanted to highlight that Ed showed courage right up to the end. Ultimately, he has nothing to be ashamed of. And I wish he were here so I could say, ‘Ed, let’s give it another shot.’ Because I know he had it within him.”
