In the last week, I've listened to the first four Led Zeppelin records. Sometimes, you simply have to let the past roll around your head, even if you are in the gym while nordic cyber-creatures strut heavily and aggressively by with their Czech high cheek bones and transparent white tank tops with black sports bras gently holding bouncing breasts of steel and green spandex pants accentuating Valentine's Day field hockey buttocks as you pump your sparrow legs on a simulated cross-country ski machine while Nancy Grace's giant head scrunches up bigger and uglier and more evil than Hades on the hanging flat screen and giant black men threaten great violence against one another over touch fouls while Asian girls glisten on sleek new dark treadmills and Plant's cries of passion on "Whole Lotta Love" Pong between your ears, and you remember why Damone gave Ratner that advice- Zeppelin is naughty sex music for teenagers.
Not all of it, though. I'd say at least half of each of these records suck. What surprised me is how rockin' the first two songs on IV are, but even I was a bit surprised how Gandalf under elf waterfall in fairy town "Battle of Evermore" is. I don't know how long it's been since I've sat through an entire version of "Stairway to Heaven," but it's impossible to hear those lyrics without filling the pauses with Song Remains the Same banter. When Plant says, "In my thoughts, I have seen / Rings of smoke through the trees," your arms involuntarily extend outwards and your fingers twirl counterclockwise as he hits 'rings of smoke'. And you're a fucking liar if you don't cap "And the forests will echo with laughter" with, "Does anybody remember laughter?" The end kinda sorta rocks, if you can get there, and I found that passing Scandinavian weightlifters increased the chances of my sticktoitiveness. This happened about every time the Zep machine decided to change gears in their epic. I don't have the energy to comment on the rest. I suppose squeezing lemons when you're 15 sounds transgressive, but deep into middle age I just wonder if that former girlfriend really did blow the roadie to get backstage and see the stallion. Funny how music works on memory. I can't remember a thing I said in class today, but I sang along with every lyric, even when the juice was runnin' down his leg. I'm not sure I need to pull these out for awhile, but it was indeed a hoot and the catalyst for thirty-year old echoes. Warm beers hidden under car seats, tight white pants with impossible zippers, and belief in the great and glorious creature they used to call the rock god.
Not all of it, though. I'd say at least half of each of these records suck. What surprised me is how rockin' the first two songs on IV are, but even I was a bit surprised how Gandalf under elf waterfall in fairy town "Battle of Evermore" is. I don't know how long it's been since I've sat through an entire version of "Stairway to Heaven," but it's impossible to hear those lyrics without filling the pauses with Song Remains the Same banter. When Plant says, "In my thoughts, I have seen / Rings of smoke through the trees," your arms involuntarily extend outwards and your fingers twirl counterclockwise as he hits 'rings of smoke'. And you're a fucking liar if you don't cap "And the forests will echo with laughter" with, "Does anybody remember laughter?" The end kinda sorta rocks, if you can get there, and I found that passing Scandinavian weightlifters increased the chances of my sticktoitiveness. This happened about every time the Zep machine decided to change gears in their epic. I don't have the energy to comment on the rest. I suppose squeezing lemons when you're 15 sounds transgressive, but deep into middle age I just wonder if that former girlfriend really did blow the roadie to get backstage and see the stallion. Funny how music works on memory. I can't remember a thing I said in class today, but I sang along with every lyric, even when the juice was runnin' down his leg. I'm not sure I need to pull these out for awhile, but it was indeed a hoot and the catalyst for thirty-year old echoes. Warm beers hidden under car seats, tight white pants with impossible zippers, and belief in the great and glorious creature they used to call the rock god.
2 comments:
oof, i can go back to acdc, or thin lizzy, but led zep, i just can't do it
it's easier than you think- think of it as anthropology- put on the Indiana Jones hat if it helps- the whip wouldn't hurt
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