There are two ways to approach A Different Kind of Truth: 1) A cashing in on a storied glory day tale of what used to be metal or 2) The seventh official chapter of a storied glory day tale of what used to be metal.

These are one in the same of course. And that’s what makes Van Halen Van Halen. For all the politics that got the band back together in 3/4ths of its original form to potentially ruin a run at one of rock’s most furiously satisfying runaway trains from ’78-’84, this record already succeeded when it decided to chase a version of its twenty-something balls-to-the wall self.

The David Lee Roth-fronted version of the band didn’t ruin it because he’s David Lee Roth. His vocal range is at half the capacity as the fabled “Runnin’ with the Devil” that became screamer gospel; but from the get-go on “She’s the Woman” – one of the handful of tracks reborn from the Gene Simmon’s produced demo, Zero, that this record attacks – is rife with some of the finest middle-aged tenacity recorded, with Roth wolf-howling before the first verse’s call-for-party-rage:

A little low on cash
But I’m high on luck
I wanna be your knight
In shining pick-up truck
With a Chevy for my summer home
Let’s get the party started

It’s cheesy, but that’s what made Van Halen Van Halen as well, especially while making fun of themselves – see above’s cash-and-luck combo – meanwhile, Eddie is still the Beethoven of the electric guitar, the master of the riff, letting loose on the aforementioned track like only Eddie can do, most likely taking his right hand to the fret-board to tease the song’s power-crunch suggestiveness.

If anything it’s a bit too long, with shredders like “Bullethead” whiplashing hilarious on paper – “My karma just ran over your dogma” – and “Chinatown” – “Steel fingers play deadly song/Whole lotta Shakespeare going on and on and on” – but borderline masturbatory in metal terms. Then again, they’re not part of the Zero collection, making things more than just a redux.

“The Trouble WIth Never,” on the other hand (another new cut) is a peak at the heart of what this band has become, showcasing Eddie’s flash-punch lick-to-cruising solo; his son Wolfgang as an acceptable bass replacement for Michael Anthony; Alex’s iron-clank drumming backbone that propels the train forward; and Roth’s although fragmented versatility, ongoing howling threat to arena rockers everywhere, tied with a perfect chorus bow:

That’s the trouble with never
Sure seem like a mighty long time
That’s the trouble with never
When was the last time
You did something for the first time?
Hello!

Such is why the steam train is such a perfect image for A Different Kind of Truth. Here is band that has sold millions upon millions of records, with a decade-long dynasty as the pinnacle of what rock musicians aspired to play like. Why tarnish that? To cash in? That’s part of it. But it’s so much more about just keeping at it for the glory of a certain era of rock. The Black Keys may be able to sell out MSG in under 10 seconds, but let’s see them cruise at the speed that this middle-aged Van Halen has just launched past us.

Some love and hate from the blogosphere:

“They are as we remember them: a bottom end that evokes a factory full of big oil drums being battered; choruses that sound like a street gang shouting at their neighbor to turn UP the volume; production that tries to turn it all into a big, overwhelming fist punching through the dashboard radio” (via the Chicago Tribune).

“The Van Halen brothers are still impossibly good at all the things they used to be good at, Roth slightly worse. His voice, once a gymnastic wonder, now seems more comfortable on heavy numbers in lower registers, which, coincidentally or not, is where much of “Truth” resides. He seems a strange creation now, a flashier and hollower Almost Dave, less resembling the original David Lee Roth than a DLR impersonator the Van Halens met one night at a strip club” (via The Washington Post).

“Where Sammy enabled Eddie’s ambitions, Diamond Dave unleashes the guitarist’s id, taunting him to play faster, harder, tougher, then fighting for space between unwieldy riffs. Certainly, there are hooks here, even some with pop propulsion, but the unexpected signature of ‘A Different Kind of Truth’ is its heaviness, its 13 songs of loud, unrelenting rock” (via All Music).