I’ve been reading some of the online comments about David Lee Roth’s recent performances, and honestly, some of them are fucking brutal. And I get it. I really do.
But here’s the thing: David Lee Roth is 71 years old. If you walked into a David Lee Roth concert expecting to see the exact same guy who jumped onto a stage in 1984, did the splits four feet in the air, spun around like a human helicopter, and sang every note at the top of his lungs… I don’t know what to tell you – Maybe set your expectations in life a little more reasonably.
Like a lot of people my age, I grew up with Van Halen. The 1984 era Van Halen didn’t just make music – they made the soundtrack to a generation:
Jump. Panama. Hot for Teacher.Those songs are burned into the brains of people my age. You hear the opening notes and you’re a teenager again, standing in your bedroom, sitting in your buddy’s car, or cranking the stereo way louder than your parents wanted. I arguably took it a little further than many as I also followed David Lee Roth after Van Halen, through his solo career. Crazy from the Heat. Eat ‘Em and Smile. Skyscraper. Just Like Paradise. A Little Ain’t Enough. I followed Dave.
And no, before you start, I’m not going to get into the whole David Lee Roth versus Sammy Hagar debate. That’s been beaten to death for decades. Sammy Hagar-era Van Halen was fan-freakin-tastic music. But it was a different band in my world, and I don’t think the two need to be compared. They were different eras, different personalities, different songs, and different versions of one of the greatest rock bands ever.
So when I went to see Diamond Dave this summer, I wasn’t expecting to see 1984 David Lee Roth. I was expecting to see 2026 David Lee Roth – and that’s what I got. Was the performance a little off the wall? Absolutely. Did he sound like he did back in the day? No. But let’s be brutally honest, he was never that great a singer in his heyday by comparison to many anyway – he was a showman. And he still is a showman. Did he move like he used to? No. Could he do all the things he did when he was 25 or 30? Of course not. And you know what? Neither can I. I’m guessing neither can most of the people sitting in that audience, either. That’s the part I don’t understand about some of the criticism. We’re watching a 71-year-old icon on stage and criticizing him because he isn’t performing like the 30-year-old version of himself that exists in our memories. Well, I’m not the same person I was at 30. And neither are you.
At some point, the people we grew up watching start getting old. And if you were old enough to remember David Lee Roth in his absolute heyday, then congratulations. You’re getting old too. That’s not an insult. It’s just math. And maybe that’s where some of the vitriol comes from. Maybe you’re not really angry at David Lee Roth. Maybe you’re angry at the fact that time is passing. Because seeing someone like Dave on stage is a reminder that the people who seemed larger than life when we were young are now in their seventies, and it’s a stark reminder of our own mortality.
But somewhere in the middle of that concert, I figured something out. I was watching Dave on stage, and he was looking out at the crowd. Smiling. Not the cocky, larger-than-life Diamond Dave grin we’ve all seen a million times. This was different. There was emotion there. You could see it on his face, and for a moment, it looked like he was fighting back tears. And then I believe he explained the entire reason he was standing there.
He lifted the mic, slowly shook his head and said “I miss this, man. I fucking miss this.”
In that moment, I understood exactly why he was there. David Lee Roth isnt out there touring because he needs the money. He’s out there because he loves performing. Because this is what he’s done for most of his life. He’s out there because he misses it.
He misses the stage.
He misses the noise.
He misses the people.
And honestly? I think that’s fucking beautiful.
So if you bought a ticket expecting him to hit every note perfectly, perform every dance move like he did in 1984, and launch himself into the splits four feet in the air…I’m sorry. You didn’t go to see David Lee Roth. You went looking for a time machine. And they don’t sell those at the merch booth.
I went to see an icon. I went to see a guy who helped write the soundtrack to my youth. I went to see the man behind songs that have been part of my life for more than four decades. And I got to see him standing on a stage at 71 years old, still doing the thing he loves. Was it perfect? No. But neither is getting old. Neither is life. And maybe that’s the point.
We spend so much of our lives wanting everything to stay exactly the same. We want our heroes to stay young. We want our bodies to stay young. We want our parents to stay healthy. We want our kids to stay little. But that’s not how any of this works. Time keeps moving. And eventually, all we can really do is decide what we’re going to do with the time we’ve got left. David Lee Roth decided he wanted to spend some of his doing what he loves – Standing on a stage looking out at people who grew up with his music. And when I saw that emotion on his face and heard him say, “I fucking miss this, man,” I got it.
I was glad I was there. Because I didn’t see a 71-year-old David Lee Roth pretending to be 25. I saw a 71-year-old David Lee Roth who still just wanted to be David Lee Roth.
I saw an idol.
I saw a piece of my youth standing on a stage in front of me.
And I saw a man who knows that time is running, just like the rest of us.
So, Diamond Dave…Thank you. Thank you for the music. Thank you for the memories. Thank you for the crazy. And thank you for getting back on that stage. I hope you keep doing it for as long as you fucking want to.
M.
The Involved Husband 