Welcome to another edition of From My Collection. Everyone has those albums in their collection that they return to time and time again, albums they “never get sick of”. This could be for various reasons. For some, the album played a crucial role in the development of their musical taste, or hearkens back to a “simpler time” in their life. I have my fair share of these albums. And then there’s those albums that grow finer with age, each listen revealing a previously unheard surprise. Vandenberg’s self titled debut falls into the latter. What was once a fun-time party metal album I blasted occasionally in my youth has since grown into one of my most go-to spins of the past 5 years. Today, we explore this classic album, the man behind it, and try to figure out why he and his band of rockstar-ready cohorts didn’t “make it” bigger.
When exploring the story of Vandenberg, one has to first investigate the band’s founder, guitarist, primary songwriter, and namesake, Adrian Vandenberg. Born and raised in the Netherlands, Vandenberg quickly took to the guitar, as many growing up in the 60s and 70s did. By the late 70s, he established himself as the lead guitarist for the band Teaser. The band generated enough hype to land themselves a record deal with Vertigo. Come 1978, they released their first and only album: A self titled hard and heavy affair strongly rooted in the blues n’ boogie driven tradition of the 70s. The talent was there, especially in the riffs and solos of the young Vandenberg. It just had to be cultivated.
As the 70s turned into the 80s, Teaser gave way to Vandenberg. The guitarist set out to form a new killer unit, dead set on dominating the metal market. The timing couldn’t have been better. Metal was sweeping the globe, especially in the UK. Naturally, Vandenberg was not alone in his heavy ambitions. There was Picture, Bodine, Highway Chile, Vandale; the list goes on and on. Joining Vandenberg in this new group was Teaser singer Bert Heerink, as well as a rhythm section of bassist Dick Kemper and drummer Jos Zoomer. Together, they formed the band that would drop one of the most ass-kicking albums not just of 1982, but of all time: Vandenberg.
Capitalizing on the English metal craze, it was there that the band recorded their debut, which was engineered and co-produced by veteran Stuart Epps. Among the bands Epps had spent the 70s working for were Led Zeppelin, Bad Company, and Wishbone Ash. In other words, the pioneers who paved the very path Vandenberg were walking upon. Not only that, but the band laid down their tracks in Jimmy Page’s Sol Studios. Not bad for a band of fresh faced newcomers!
It was only a few months after its April 1982 recording that Vandenberg was released globally via ATCO. In a year dominated by blockbusters like Iron Maiden’s The Number of the Beast, Judas Priest’s Screaming for Vengeance, and Scorpions’ Blackout, Vandenberg should’ve been right there with them. That’s not to say it didn’t perform well. The album did reach #65 on the Billboard 200, and even scored a Top 40 hit in “Burning Heart” thanks to rock radio and MTV (when both were still a thing). However, the fact that Vandenberg didn’t even go gold in the States speaks volumes. I mean, this was an era where damn near anyone went gold.
So what happened? Well it couldn’t have been the music, which was more or less an extension of what Van Halen was doing on their first few albums: Guitar driven, hook centric metal that made you feel good! For those who felt the mighty VH had gone a little too far off the pop deep end that year (I can’t be the only one) with their album Diver Down, Vandenberg served as the perfect alternative. The album opens with the swaggering “Your Love Is in Vain”. Fueled by a four on the floor beat, soulful vocals, and sweaty riffage reminiscent of Bad Company, it’s a strong opening number. One can hear the ties to the 70s Teaser days, but the songwriting had drastically improved.
Anyone who blindly assumed Vandenberg were 70s nostalgia hounds based on the opener were immediately taken aback by the sharp metallic attack of “Back on My Feet Again”. The riffs are precise and the attitude is one of confidence and bravado: A major theme of early 80s metal. There’s even some subtle double bass drumming à la Alex Van Halen during the anthemic chorus. “Wait” then slows things down to an ominous crawl, boasting some equally ominous guitar work and another mega chorus that lives rent free in my head (“Wait, wait, wait ’til the shit hits the fan!!!”).
Now for as larger than life as the hooks on this album are, the production is rather stripped down and modest, almost as if the band told Epps they were out to make an 80s metal album with the aesthetic of Humble Pie or Free. It’s raw, live, and in your face, without the bombast of multi-tracks and whatever cutting edge technology was available at the time. The only time the album resorts to these trappings is appropriately for the power ballad, “Burning Heart”. In case you forgot that the key word in “power ballad” is “power”, consider “Burning Heart” a friendly reminder. It doesn’t get much more powerful than Heerink’s impassioned vocals and Vandenberg’s ripping, yet melancholic solo which channels the legendary Gary Moore.
As we flip over to side B, we’re greeted by the high speed blitz of “Ready for You”. I could only imagine being a kid in the early 80s, catching Vandenberg as support for whatever big name was rolling through town (KISS, Ozzy, etc.) and getting blasted by this rager. “Ready for You” embodies both the energy and brashness of classic 80s metal. It’s a spirit that so many of the NWOTHM crop have attempted to capture, only to fall short time and time again. The vocal harmonies during the chorus are the icing on the cake!
“Too Late” and “Nothing to Lose” keeps the heaviness going, albeit differently from the rest of the album. There’s something about the chords, arrangement, and delivery of this one-two punch that recalls the drama and intensity of 70s Scorpions, Accept, and even Angel Witch if they were more slick. It’s a snapshot of metal history, because even today, bands attempt to replicate this atmosphere and approach, only to come off as inauthentic.
“Lost in a City” kicks all sorts of ass, alternating between heavy and light passages with ease and unleashing another wickedly hot, simplistic sing-along chorus. At this point, we’re 8 songs into the album and there’s not a dull moment to be found. That’s more than most NWOBHM acts who scored record deals can stake claim to! So it should come as no surprise that the album’s closer is, you guessed it, another banger. Much like they do on “Ready for You”, Vandenberg goes into speed metal mode to really get your blood pumping. The rhythm section is explosive, Heerink sounds like a cross between Klaus Meine and Phil Mogg, and Vandenberg lets off riffs and solos that are as lethal as a military sniper.
Following the release of Vandenberg, the band toured like road dogs and subsequently released two more studio albums: Heading for a Storm (1983) and Alibi (1985). Yet despite all their ambition, they never ascended to the arena headliner level of their peers…well, “they” as in the band didn’t. Vandenberg the man? That’s another story. Come 1987, Vandenberg found himself as 1/5 of David Coverdale’s star studded Whitesnake ’87 lineup, playing alongside Steve Vai on guitar, Rudy Sarzo on bass, and Tommy Aldridge on drums.
Although Whitesnake crashed and burned commercially in the early 90s alongside virtually every other traditional metal/hard rock/AOR/glam metal/thrash metal band, Vandenberg has remained creatively fruitful, enduring a 2010s comeback with a new band named Vandenberg’s MoonKings. Come the 2020s, Vandenberg decided to take it back to square one, relaunching the band that put him on the map. We’ve been following him every step of the way, and look forward to whatever the future may hold for this guitar god. Cheers to Adrian, and cheers to Vandenberg!