Eddie Van Halen walked into a guitar center in Hollywood on a Saturday afternoon, just browsing. A crowd had gathered around the premium guitar section where a session guitarist was demonstrating an expensive custom shop Stratacaster. The guitarist, running through impressive licks, noticed Eddie looking at the guitar with interest and said loudly, “This guitar is a $10,000 custom shop instrument.
It’s too advanced for casual players. You need professional hands to really understand what it can do. Eddie nodded politely and asked, “Can I try it when you’re done?” The session guitarist looked Eddie up and down, just a regular guy in jeans and a t-shirt. And replied condescendingly, “Sure, but be careful. This isn’t a beginner guitar.
Don’t break it trying to play stuff you saw on YouTube.” Eddie smiled and said, “I’ll be gentle.” What happened in the next 3 minutes became the most legendary Guitar Store moment in Hollywood history. It was a Saturday afternoon in June 2008, and Eddie Van Halen was doing something he did regularly despite being famous, browsing guitar stores.
He loved looking at new gear, testing equipment, and staying current with what was available. Usually, he went incognito to avoid crowds. But today, he’d taken a chance on Guitar Center Hollywood, one of the busiest music stores in Los Angeles. He was wearing jeans, a plain black t-shirt, and a baseball cap. No sunglasses today.
He didn’t think he needed them. To most people, he just looked like another middle-aged guy shopping for guitars. Eddie was browsing the custom shop section, looking at high-end Fenders and Gibsons, when he noticed a crowd gathering. A man in his 30s, expensive clothes, carefully styled hair, the look of someone who’d spent money on his image, was demonstrating guitars for potential customers.
The demonstrator was good, technically proficient, playing blues licks and rock runs that showed off the guitar’s capabilities. He was working for the store that day, Eddie realized, a hired gun to help sell expensive instruments. The session guitarist, his name tag said Derek, was currently playing a beautiful Sunburst Stratacastaster, a custom shop model with premium pickups and hardware.
He was running through scales, playing some jazz fusion licks, showing what the guitar could do. This is the Custom Shop 63 Rishu, Derek announced to the small crowd. Hand wound pickups, nitro cellulose finish, vintage spec everything. This is a $10,000 instrument. When you play something this nice, you can feel the difference immediately.
It responds to professional touch in ways that cheaper guitars simply can’t. Eddie watched with interest. The guitar did sound good. Derek was a competent player, though his technique was a bit rigid. Lots of flash, not much soul, but he knew his scales and could demonstrate the instrument’s capabilities. Derek noticed Eddie standing at the edge of the crowd, looking intently at the Stratacaster.
You interested in this one? Dererick called out. It’s beautiful, Eddie said. Great tone. It should be for 10 grand, Dererick said with a laugh. This is a professional instrument, not for everyone, but if you know what you’re doing, it’s incredible. He played another impressive run up the fretboard. The crowd murmured appreciatively.
“Can I try it when you’re done?” Eddie asked. Derek looked at Eddie for the first time with real attention. He saw a regular-look guy, probably in his 50s, wearing casual clothes. Not the typical customer for a $10,000 guitar. Derek’s expression shifted to friendly, but condescending. Sure, but I should warn you, this guitar is pretty advanced.
It’s not set up like a typical off the rack guitar. The action is low, the pickups are high output, and it responds very sensitively to playing technique. It takes professional hands to really understand what it can do. I understand, Eddie said mildly. And please be careful with it, Derek continued. This is a $10,000 instrument. I’m responsible for anything that happens to it.
So, no aggressive playing, no trying to recreate stuff you saw on YouTube. Just be gentle with it. Eddie smiled. I’ll be gentle. Derek finished his demonstration with a flourish, a fast pentatonic run ending in a bent note. The crowd applauded politely. He carefully removed the strap and held out the guitar toward Eddie. Here you go.
Take your time, but remember, easy does it. This is a delicate, high-end instrument. Eddie took the guitar, adjusted the strap to his height, and checked the tuning. It was perfect. Dererick was at least professional enough to keep it in tune. The crowd had started to disperse, but a few people lingered to see what the next person would play.
Dererick stood nearby with his arms crossed, watching Eddie with the wary expression of someone protecting an expensive item. Eddie strummed a few chords, getting a feel for the guitar. The action was indeed very low. The pickups were responsive. It was a nice instrument. Then Eddie started to play. He began with the opening of Eruption, the iconic tapping section that had revolutionized rock guitar in 1978.
His right hand came over the fretboard, index finger tapping notes on the high frets, while his left hand hammered on and pulled off on the lower frets, creating that cascading, impossible sounding pattern that every guitarist in the world recognized instantly. Derek’s expression changed from weariness to confusion to absolute shock.
In about 2 seconds, his mouth literally fell open. The few people who’d been walking away stopped midstep and turned around. Someone dropped their guitar pick. A teenager who’d been testing a bass put it down and rushed over. More people started gathering from other parts of the store. The drum section, the keyboard area, even customers from the checkout line.
Eddie kept playing, moving through the eruption solo with casual precision. His fingers moving across the fretboard with the ease of someone who’d played these patterns 10,000 times. because he had he’d written them. The tapping section transitioned into the tremolo picking section, rapid fire notes that made the Stratacastaster scream.
Eddie’s right hand was a blur, his left hand working the VBR bar to create that distinctive dive bomb sound that had defined an era of rock guitar. Someone in the growing crowd gasped and said loudly, “Oh my god, oh my god, that’s Eddie Van Halen.” Dererick’s face went from white to red. He looked at the person who’d spoken, then at Eddie, then back at the person as if seeking confirmation that this couldn’t possibly be real.
Eddie transitioned smoothly from Eruption into the solo from Ain’t Talking About Love. Those simple but perfectly crafted bends and phrases that had more soul in four notes than most players got in entire songs. Then he moved into improvised runs that showcase the guitar’s capabilities far better than Derek’s careful demonstration had.
The Stratacastaster was singing under his hands, bends that spoke, harmonics that rang like bells, volume, swells that made the guitar breathe, techniques that made the instrument sound like it was alive and telling its own story. The crowd had grown to maybe 40 people now, forming a semicircle around Eddie, phones held high, recording this impossible moment.
