The world recognizes him as Eddie Van Halen, an exceptional guitarist.

To Alex Van Halen, however, he was Edward or Ed, never Eddie. He was his closest friend, a deeply sensitive individual who often struggled with criticism, and a hesitant rock star with a charming smile.

He was also Alex’s brother, born just 20 months apart, with whom he would create one of the most impactful rock bands of all time.

In “Brothers” (released on Oct. 22, Harper Collins, 226 pages, $32), Alex Van Halen expresses his profound love for his brother and the deep sorrow he continues to feel since Ed passed away from cancer in October 2020.

Their journey began with a two-week boat trip from their home in Holland to America in 1962, culminating in the Van Halen family settling in Pasadena, California. The brothers quickly abandoned their piano lessons to embrace rock music after being inspired by The Beatles and the Dave Clark Five, leading Alex to take up the drums and idolize Ginger Baker from Cream.

As a band, Van Halen was revolutionary in their music techniques, breaking ground with Eddie’s innovative finger-tapping in “Eruption” and Alex’s dynamic double bass drum intro in “Hot for Teacher.” They thrilled audiences with hits like “Jamie’s Cryin’,” “So This is Love?” “Beautiful Girls,” and major MTV hits “Jump” and “Panama.”

At 71, Alex shares captivating stories, such as the iconic opening sound in “Runnin’ with the Devil,” which involved tearing the horns off their cars, and the time British rocker Ozzy Osbourne mistakenly checked into the wrong hotel and slept for two days.

Alex doesn’t hold back when it comes to discussing frontman David Lee Roth, suggesting that Roth was “angry at Ed for his talent” and expressing frustration over Ed contributing an uncredited guitar solo to Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” (“Why would you waste creativity on someone else’s record?”).

In a conversation with YSL News, Alex Van Halen delves further into the themes of his book, addressing both his personal struggles with addiction and Ed’s health battles, while maintaining a balance of humor and thoughtfulness.

Question: The fourth anniversary of Ed’s passing was recently. How do you honor him on that day?

Answer: I think of him every single day. There’s not a moment when I don’t reflect on him and our shared experiences. We spent 65 years together—a lifetime of calls, debates, and discussions—just like any brothers would. Our shared creative vision motivated us immensely.

Was writing the book a healing process or emotionally challenging?

I aimed for it to be therapeutic, albeit in a roundabout way. It brought many memories to the surface, pushing me to confront specific parts of our lives. Honestly, I wouldn’t change anything. My father always said never to live with regrets.

At the end of the book, you mention that David Lee Roth was the first to know after Ed’s death, yet you’re candid about the good and bad aspects of his role in the band. What’s your current relationship with him?

I think Dave is taking a step back right now. I’m not sure how he’s coping with everything. I learned early that the music industry revolves around relationships, and ours in Van Halen was intricate. I don’t hold his leaving in 1985 against him. We didn’t intend to imprison anyone. However, it was evident that outside influences distorted the band dynamics. Dave was amidst immense success and not thinking clearly, which he would acknowledge now. That’s why I reached out to him first—to discover that 23 years can change people.

So, the conversation didn’t go as you anticipated?

No, he’s not the same person he used to be. But if he were to call me right now, I would definitely pick up. It’s about mutual respect and human dignity.

I realize the book focuses on your relationship with Ed and the musical legacy you built together, but what about Sammy Hagar (Van Halen’s singer following Roth’s departure)?

To me, the essence of the band faded in 1984. We produced good music afterward, but the core spirit, the magic, our shared visions, and the potential to look forward together—that connection changed significantly, making it different from before.

Van Halen was shaped by our status as outsiders—Ed, Dave, and I formed a unique bond based on those shared experiences.

You openly discuss your struggles with alcohol and benzodiazepines during the mid-‘90s. What strategies do you use to avoid falling back into those patterns when faced with grief and loss?

Firstly, I am fortunate to have a strong support system. They’ve taught me to recognize a greater force at play and to let go to it. I believe it’s vital to focus on my responsibilities and utilize every resource available—whether it’s fear or taking care of my family. I’d often tell Ed, just look up and release it.

What emotions arise for you when you hear Wolfgang, Ed’s son, perform?

Wolfgang is very mindful of not being seen solely in Ed’s shadow. He strives to carve out his own identity and has worked diligently for every achievement. I advised him to keep pushing forward and never stop; halting is the worst thing he could do, and from there, the rest is up to fate.

You mention in your book that you still have your first Ludwig drum set that cost a thousand dollars, yet you can’t play?

Unfortunately, I sustained a back injury in 2022, but I’m on the mend now. This occurred right after things fell apart with Dave regarding the so-called Van Halen tribute tour. After 60 years of playing the drums, it’s exhausting.

I imagine (U2’s) Larry Mullen Jr. would agree with your sentiments.

Larry has a very balanced perspective. Prior to my back issues, I consulted him for advice on my joint pain. However, Larry chose surgery, which I believe isn’t always the best option. There are alternative routes.

You clearly state at the beginning of the book that it won’t be a sensationalist exposé, unlike Noel Monk’s “Runnin’ With the Devil” from 2018.

Noel is a wonderful person, but as a tour manager, he had his perspective. This was mainly because Dave, Ed, and I were wary of a true manager taking advantage of us. Plus, it was I who parted ways with him.

Given that, would you consider writing a second book that dives into the more outrageous stories?

We’ll have to see how this one unfolds first. For me, the primary goal is to find closure with Ed. The pandemic made it hard for me to visit him during his final days, with many vying for his attention while he was in a delicate condition. When I was in Switzerland assisting him with his experimental cancer therapy, we managed to get him into rehab, which involved severe withdrawal. I wouldn’t wish that experience on anyone. His doctor suggested I give him a pill every 15 minutes, and Ed would wait by my bedside for it. Those moments were precious, just the two of us, and he fought valiantly.