Author Martin Popoff and BraveWords scribe Martin Popoff has written the following obituary for legendary guitarist Eddie Van Halen who died yesterday morning (October 6th) at age 65, following a long battle with throat cancer:

And so said Wolfie: “I can’t believe I’m having to write this, but my father, Edward Lodewijk Van Halen, has lost his long and arduous battle with cancer this morning. He was the best father I could ever ask for. Every moment I’ve shared with him on and off stage was a gift... I love you so much, Pop.”

Those heartbreaking words bring home the shocking news that Eddie Van Halen has left us, at the age of 65, October 6th, 2020, due to the oral cancer he seemed to have beat multiple times, nay, that rarely seemed like a force that could stop this smiling genius of music and fearless creator of art from the left coast.

Eddie leaves behind not only Wolfgang, carrier of the torch and virtuoso in his own right, but also classy second wife Janie and first wife Valerie, and indeed all of us, less inspired through the loss of this great flame-sparker.

It is not lost on us over here at BraveWords, that Eddie has died within two weeks of the 50-year anniversary of the death of Jimi Hendrix. I’ve often argued—and yes, had to argue vociferously—that Eddie was the first true guitar hero since Jimi. And then what happened? Eddie caused a proliferation of more guitar heroes, and a general re-intensification of study of the guitar all over the world, but especially within the territory that he and his band brought back into focus as the capital of rock, Los Angeles, California.

But it’s not just through being a guitar hero—with Eddie’s lyrical, musical popularization of tapping and what’s known as the “brown sound”—for which the memory of Eddie must persist; it’s his fearless creativity, his delving into keyboards and just in general, the Led Zeppelin-like and The Who-like, white-knuckle unpredictability of Van Halen, year after year.

Fortunately for us, his last gift was 2012’s A Different Kind of Truth, a fiery missive to the metalheads that embraced the band at the beginning. Indeed, in the spirit of fecund creativity and streetwise credibility that marked the man’s near mystical career, the last Van Halen record was a molten mass of riffs and gorgeous songful soloing, rooted in early writing but rendered timeless through careful consideration of what to give us as a record. Indeed that pain and reluctance with respect to releasing material has short-changed us of Eddie’s genius—I’ve been told by various parties of the hundreds of hours of material put to tape over the years—but perhaps now it will be time for a feasting. Sir Edward won’t be here to smirk mused and expectant upon our reactions, but the world will be an improved place if and when we get to hear what this Mozart of the guitar had been squirreling away all those years.

Rest in Peace, Eddie Van Halen, with kind regard to Janie, Wolfgang and of course close brother Alex, so much a part of delivering Eddie’s art to the world at large.