Before I ever met Eddie Van Halen, I saw him play on a tiny stage at a cramped club, laughing at the strange joy of a strange, joyful night as he rammed out the opening chords of “You Really Got Me.” It was January 2012. I had gotten a call from a publicist around 4 p.m. that afternoon, a cold, sunny New York day. The band would be playing a surprise gig at Café Wha?, the legendary venue down on MacDougal Street in Greenwich Village, building buzz for an upcoming tour. Since the 1950s big acts had played Café Wha? on their way to becoming big: Dylan, Hendrix, Springsteen, Richard Pryor. Cafe Wha? in New York City’s Greenwich VillageBill TompkinsGetty Images Van Halen, though?They were the hard-rock mega-idols of my childhood. I still had the vinyl copy of 1984 I bought at Record Express in, well, 1984. Van Halen was huge and loud and crazy and built for arenas where David Lee Roth could do backflips. I had to see this. I got a plus-one and brought Esquire’s creative director at the time, David Curcurito, a hair-band aficionado and particular acolyte of Mr. Edward Van Halen. He worshippe… Click below to read the full story from Esquire
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