I’m not fanatical about any band or its music, but I come close when the band is Led Zeppelin. That’s the band for me. I can discuss and listen to them all day, and the only song I ever feel the tiniest urge to skip is ‘The Crunge’. And yet when it comes to any of the solo work that the remaining members have put out I find that I don’t care for most of it. It’s a bunch of candy store rock that leaves me a little dazed and confused. Not because it isn’t Led Zeppelin, but because it’s so far from anything I like that if it weren’t for the fact that it’s them, I would have just said, “Thank you, but this seems like tea for one, and I’m in the mood for a hot dog, some custard pie, and a shot of tequila.”
There are of course exceptions, and I don’t want to dismiss the entire musical output of these guys post-Zeppelin. By far Robert Plant has been the most prolific, and has taken the most chances with his career. He’s had some great moments, but there’s so little in his catalog I care for. I couldn’t follow him on it, but I totally respected his journey.
Then the Page/Plant thing happened and I was enthralled by the possibilities. I was at the premier of No Quarter at the Beacon Theater in NYC and got to meet both of them briefly. I thought this was the start of a great new direction, not a resurrection [ed. note—Based on the live concert film, not the album, which we thought didn’t have the same effect]. They seemed to be in a place where they could bring it on home and play as friends in the light of perspective, not swinging on some gallows pole, or thrown into the ocean with the weight of Led Zeppelin tied around their necks. And that’s the way it should have been done. I don’t need Zeppelin back, I just need to be able to follow along with where an artist is going, and here I thought I could.
Then they put out Walking into Clarksdale and I thought I was going to be sick again. It took a completely different tack, and I felt a bit like a fool in the rain. It was definitely a heartbreaker. It was as if I saw the architectural plans for the houses of the holy, to be built using nothing but the best materials, but the completed structure turned out to be a little shack down by the seaside made from four sticks of drift wood. This skewed perception is of course nobody’s fault but mine, but ultimately I had to say, “I’m very happy for you and everything, and I’m glad you like it, but I’m sorry, it’s time to ramble on. So I’ gonna crawl over the hills and far away from this place.” Not to say that I closed my ears to future offerings, but if this was the new direction, then I wasn’t a fan.
But recently Plant began striking out on his own, apparently looking for new directions of his own again, and intent on reviving his solo career, which was now about ten years gone, and I was glad to hear it. I was even more excited to hear about the VH1 Storytellers episode with him, and the release of the Dreamland album. I mean, here’s the guy who for me, has the greatest voice in rock and roll, and who I look at as an intriguing, intelligent person and artist.
Well he still has the voice, still has the heart, still has the soul, but I don’t think he’s got the material to really bring it all together. I thought the show, and the performances were a bit lackluster overall. Neither did I feel any connection to the material on this new album, the majority of which is composed of cover tunes. Nothing here really squeezed my lemon.
I love that as an artist, he’s experimenting, but what do you do when you love the artist and not the art? How many more times can you try to find a way through what seems to have become a major communication breakdown, without feeling trampled underfoot. I’m not about to say, “Babe, I’m gonna leave you”, but I constantly find myself saying, “Since I’ve been loving you, I’m about to lose my worried mind.” In the end I can’t deny that I still have a whole lotta love for these guys regardless of what they do. Through good times bad times, they still get all my love and support whether I can say “You shook me”, or not. I know your time is gonna come. After all, the song remains the same doesn’t it?
Hot Dog! That makes me me wanna go Down By the Seaside and Boogie With Stu. But while we’re here In the Light, I heard those folks from Kashmir singing The Immigrant Song. But while I was Dazed and Confused, I still gave Moby Dick No Quarter when I saw him in The Ocean.
Is that a Tangerine in your pants, or are you just glad to see me?
You quoted robert johnson. You surely are going to hell now.
What was ‘walking into clarksdale’ like?
I’ve already got an email adress there, so it should be an easy transition. =)
As for Walking into Clarksdale, it’s strange. It’s a collection of bland rock songs with a very dry production prevalent throughout the album that seems to suck all the life out it. It sounds like a well recorded demo of a bunch of rough song ideas. I think part of the problem is the bass and drums really aren’t doing much, but it feels like everyone is holding back. I personally think Page/Plant should have worked with a producer instead of being left to their own devices.
There are some interesting and moody things on it like When The World Was Young, Blue Train, Most High, and the When I Was A Child, but I didn’t find anything I really liked. I listened to it again today, but I hadn’t listened to it since it came out, and I probably won’t listen to it again for a long time.
Yes, I have much the same reaction and feelings. The individuals that had the most influence on my music and much of my creative spirit, seem, for me anyway, to be lost in a time capsule.
They do not seem to be able to return to the place that generated such genius. And by return I do not mean to produce the same product, but I mean to return to the mindset, the creative "zone"(for lack of a better word) as they had been at. If they could it would allow them to create something as viable, albiet "new", as they did before. They would be able to translate their lifes journey into a musical statement of equal magnitude as they did when they were young. The warrior ages but does not die.
Where is he now? It seems from what is being produced these last 20 years they no longer know themselves.
I sometimes fear the same fate for myself.
Some find themselves again, others get lost, others never lose it. I see people like Clapton, Bowie, Gabriel, and bands like AC/DC who’ve been able to keep that thing going or rekindle it, and then people like Page who seems to have done nothing but stumble and fall back on past glories. Makes you wonder where the disconnection happens and how you get it back.