Revving Up the Past with Van Halen’s “Panama”
Take a deep breath and let the roar of 1984 sweep you back—back to a time when big hair, bigger riffs, and the open road ruled the world. Van Halen’s “Panama” screeched onto the Billboard Hot 100 in June of that year, peaking at a solid No. 13, a fuel-injected highlight from their blockbuster album 1984. For those of us who lived it, this wasn’t just a song—it was a pulse-pounding escape, a three-minute joyride that captured the wild spirit of an era teetering between excess and exhilaration. Released as the third single after “Jump” and “I’ll Wait,” it roared through radios and MTV screens, a testament to a band at the peak of their powers, with David Lee Roth’s swagger and Eddie Van Halen’s guitar wizardry firing on all cylinders.
The story behind “Panama” is pure rock ’n’ roll folklore. It started with a chance encounter: Roth spotted a journalist eyeballing his custom hot rod outside the studio and quipped, “What’s the matter? You think all I do is write about cars and girls?” That offhand remark sparked the song, but the title came from a different beast—the Panama Express, an Opel race car Roth had seen in Vegas. Not the country, mind you, despite what some fans thought—Roth later clarified it with a grin, insisting it was all about horsepower, not geopolitics. Recorded at Eddie’s 5150 studio, the track was a family affair: Alex Van Halen’s double-bass drumming thundered like a V8, while producer Ted Templeman miked up Roth’s own Lamborghini for that iconic revving intro. The band even filmed the video swinging from cables and dodging cops, a chaotic tribute to their untamed live shows.
At its core, “Panama” is a love letter to speed and seduction—an anthem of chasing thrills, whether it’s a woman or the horizon. “I reach down between my legs, ease the seat back,” Roth belts, his voice dripping with mischief, blurring the line between a hot rod and a hot night. It’s not subtle, but it’s honest—a primal shout of freedom and desire that hits older listeners right in the chest. For us, it’s the sound of Friday nights cruising Main Street, windows down, radio up, dreaming of something wild just beyond the next turn.
Certified platinum as part of 1984, which sold over 10 million copies, “Panama” remains a cornerstone of Van Halen’s legacy. It’s the Mark II lineup’s swagger distilled—Michael Anthony’s bass anchoring the chaos, Eddie’s solo erupting like a dragstrip burnout. For those who remember, it’s more than music—it’s the echo of youth, when life felt like a race you couldn’t lose. Pop the cassette in your old deck, feel that rumble, and let it carry you back to a summer when the road stretched forever and the nights burned bright. “Panama” still runs hot—just like we did.