Welcome to another edition of From My Collection. Well folks, another mid-August weekend and another Beatlefest (officially branded “The Fest for Beatles Fans” due to legal action from Apple, but nobody actually calls it that) has come and gone. Yes, before I was exposed to all things hard, heavy, and brutal, The Beatles were my first musical love, and remain my favorite band to this day. This year’s lineup featured appearances from British Invasion superstar Billy J. Kramer, Badfinger guitarist Joey Molland, and former David Lee Roth/current Ringo Starr drummer, Gregg Bissonette. Meeting Gregg for the second time got me thinking about his output with the Diamond one. Everyone talks about the brilliant Eat ‘Em and Smile (1986), and even Skyscraper (1988) to an extent. One album they DON’T talk about is DLR’s third solo outing, A Little Ain’t Enough. In the spirit of all things hedonistic and debaucherous, we invite you to enjoy this here 69th (ha) edition of From My Collection, in which we revisit said album. Join us if you dare…
Before we jump into the nitty gritty of this glorious party metal opus (ain’t that a paradox), we need to look back at Diamond Dave’s solo voyage. As time has gone on, more and more people have forgotten just how massive DLR was out the gate. This was no coincidence. Whereas Ozzy Osbourne’s unceremonious exit from Black Sabbath came at their lowest period, and it took until Diary of a Madman for him to reclaim headliner status, DLR departed Van Halen at their absolute peak.
1984 was a commercial juggernaut, elevating Van Halen from dirtbag darlings to pop metal princes. The album spawned 4 massive Top 40/MTV hits (“Jump”, “I’ll Wait”, “Hot for Teacher”, “Panama”), and additional album cuts which would go on to become rock radio staples (“Drop Dead Legs”, “House of Pain”). This band was on top of the world. Surely nothing could go wrong…right? Wrong! Fast forward a year and the honeymoon was over. Due to alleged “creative differences” (Isn’t that always the case?), Diamond Dave and the rest of the Van Halen camp went their separate ways.
In the weeks leading up to his ultimate departure from VH, good ol’ Dave struck with his debut solo EP, Crazy From the Heat: A 4 song platter of…lounge music? Yes, you read that correctly: lounge music. For anyone else in the sphere of hard and heavy music in 1985, this would’ve been career suicide. And yet, against all odds, it worked! Crazy was exactly that, crazy. Its wacky, vanity driven excesses served as the perfect launching pad for Diamond Dave’s solo career, spawning 2 Top 40 hits (“California Girls”, “Just a Gigolo / I Ain’t Got Nobody”) and ultimately going platinum. Not bad, Dave, not bad.
For the rest of the decade, Diamond Dave mania was in full force. Both Eat ‘Em and Smile and Skyscraper went platinum, spawning hits all over MTV, Top 40, and rock radio. He continued to pack arenas all across the country, playing both these new solo hits and the Van Halen classics with a band as equally charismatic as he in tow. Backed by Steve Vai on guitars, Billy Sheehan on bass, and Gregg Bissonette, DLR was untouchable. Then the 90s arrived.
Vai left the fold for Whitesnake and a subsequent solo career. Sheehan formed glam metal supergroup Mr. Big. And Bissonette stuck around because, well, why not? Sure, even before the arrival of the Nirvanapocalypse, the tides were turning against Diamond Dave, but this was not a guy to let a little rain ruin his parade. No, quite the opposite. DLR was still eager to Eat ‘Em and Smile in 1991, when in the midst of a sea of flannel, he released his long awaited third album, A Little Ain’t Enough.
Joining him for this foray was a brand new band of conspirators. Bissonette’s brother, Matt, filled the pocket on bass. Prodigy shredder Jason Becker joined on lead guitar, while veteran Alice Cooper guitarist Steve Hunter provided rhythm guitar. Rounding it all out was journeyman keyboardist Brett Tuggle, who handled much of the songwriting on this here album. Together, these 5 were ready to take on the world: a world that belonged to Diamond Dave and the rest of us were just living in.
As we drop the needle on A Little Ain’t Enough, we’re greeted by the opening title track. One of my favorite cuts in the DLR solo catalog, “A Lil’ Ain’t Enough” boasts all the trademarks of classic Diamond Dave: ridiculous lyrics, massive choruses, ripping guitars, and a feelgood atmosphere. Seriously, if you’re not grinning ear to ear and cranking this at full blast, you’re a lost cause. The only thing more memorable than the song itself is its accompanying video, which was banned from MTV for featuring “scantly clad women”, not its troupe of *ahem* little people dancers imitating Al Jolson. I’ll let you figure the rest out.
“Shoot It” boasts some of the old timey tropes of the Crazy EP, thanks in part to its bold brass section and boogie woogie piano. Arrangement-wise, the riffs and melodies have a borderline Stones swagger to them reminiscent of “Brown Sugar”. Hey folks, real recognizes real, and I could only imagine DLR and the Mick in a room together. If the first 2 songs were too lighthearted, “Lady Luck” puts this to rest in an instant. AOR production aside, this tough as nails rocker boasts Californian sunbaked Sabbath riffs akin to VH staples “Runnin’ with the Devil” and “D.O.A.”. It’s just the right balance of heavy AND cool.
The sole cover of the album, “Hammerhead Shark”, comes rocking in with boogie and attitude. While I’ve never heard the Lowen & Navarro original, I can’t imagine it being nearly as rad as this version. Is it a great song? Not necessarily. If anything, it’s indistinguishable from the likes of Great White, Tesla, and other glam metal gone rootsy hard rock bands of the era, but it does fit that niche to a T. The atmospheric AOR ballad, “Tell the Truth”, slows things down momentarily, giving Becker an opportunity to show off a different side of his playing; a side closer to Jeff Beck than Eddie Van Halen. Some may say this is out of DLR’s wheelhouse, and it is, but I prefer it to much of his schmaltzy lounge material.
Closing out side A is the ultra funky “Baby’s on Fire”. It’s easy to forget now, but this was quite the early 90s phenomenon for 15 minutes. Bands like Red Hot Chili Peppers, Primus, Living Colour, and Faith No More found their way onto mainstream rock radio rotations with their funk n’ groove oriented approach, with bands Love/Hate, Extreme, and as heard here, Diamond Dave, playing “follow the leader”. Lucky for us, “Baby’s on Fire” is far from a cringe-fest, instead exuding the sophisticated cool of Mk. III Deep Purple.
As we flip over to side B, the southern flavored “40 Below” takes charge. It’s hard to take it seriously with its pompous 80s arena metal production. In other words, you’re not getting the raw authenticity of prime ZZ Top or Skynyrd, but would you expect anything less from a California boy? Furthermore, did I really just use a variation of the word “serious” in an essay regarding David Lee Roth? Remind me not to make that mistake ever again, unless I’m labeling a song “seriously badass”.
“Sensible Shoes” doubles down on the blues roots rock leanings of “Hammerhead Shark”, albeit far more stripped down. Emphasis is put on sly slide guitar, down-home piano playing, and hearty harmonica work. I’m not too crazy about this one, only because it gives me Diver Down era throwaway vibes, but hey, it still beats the alternative (i.e. Nirvana). If “Sensible Shoes” is a distant cousin of “Hammerhead Shark”, then “Last Call” is a distant cousin of “Baby’s on Fire”. Yet again, DLR funks it up like nobody’s watching, and the vocal phrasing sounds eerily similar to VH’s “Beautiful Girls”. If you’re gonna rip off anyone, rip off yourself!
“The Dogtown Shuffle” lives up to its name, shuffling about and standing out as perhaps the biggest outlier on this album. Yes, its spirit is in line with the boogie/blues/funk mood of this release, but its lush AOR keys that dominate above all. Dare I say I could imagine this on a Van Hagar album? Perhaps…perhaps not (Don’t kill us Dave!). Contrasting this is hands down my favorite cut on here, “It’s Showtime!”. Did you want a full speed blast of classic VH nostalgia? You got it! From Gregg Bissonette’s double bass drum shuffle à la Alex Van Halen and Jason Becker’s party-ready riffs, to those infectious harmonies and DLR’s trademark shrieks, this has to be the greatest late 70s VH song never made.
The band keeps in mighty VH mode for the closing “Drop in the Bucket”. If “It’s Showtime!” captures the raw hedonism of VH’s first 3 albums, “Drop in the Bucket” captures the streetwise exploration of Fair Warning (1981), towing the line between heavy handed riffage and funkalicious groove. It’s too bad neither of these 2 songs were released as singles. In an age where Van Halen were enjoying their newfound status as adult contemporary radio kingpins, this dynamic duo were practically a musical eulogy in memory of what once was.
In hindsight, A Little Ain’t Enough wasn’t a complete failure. The album did reach #18 on the Billboard 200 and even reached gold status, which was no easy task for an album of this nature in 1991. It did, however, flounder in comparison to its predecessors. Diamond Dave managed to go on one more arena run in support of this album, but not without heavy support from Cinderella and Extreme, the latter of which likely provided much of the ticket sales, thanks in part to their massive sophomore album, Extreme II: Pornograffitti (1990).
Even more tragic was the fate of guitarist Jason Becker, who never got to play these songs live after being stricken with ALS at the young age of 21. Against all odds, he is still with us today, and continues to create music, albeit via computer. Diamond Dave soldiered on as well, never reaching the heights of his solo heyday again, but continuing to play arenas with a reunited Van Halen until EVH’s ultimate passing in 2020.
As for A Little Ain’t Enough, as far as I’m concerned, it’s the second best album in the solo DLR canon. Skyscraper has its moments, but sounds dated and is weighed down by too many pop rock tropes à la 1984. A Little Ain’t Enough keeps it real from beginning to end, and even its weakest moments blow the burgeoning Lollapalooza crop out of the water. It’s a breath of fresh air, a ray of sunshine in an age when mainstream rock was about to take a turn for the stale and dark. You can keep The Clash and iced tea, baby! I’ll take the Diamond One and a glass of Jack every day.