Led Zeppelin: Presence

Led Zeppelin: Presence (Swan Song)

Sounds, 10 April 1976

AFTER THIS PLATTER had spun incessantly for an afternoon on the office phonogram I asked a non-Zep fan what he thought.

"Oh, it's okay I guess. They're just the best at what they do."

Well of course. But what they do is also the best. More than almost any other band they maintain the roughshod energy, vulgarity and spirit of rock 'n' roll that extends from Elvis' pelvis and Gene Vincent and Little Richard through the early Kinks and Yardbirds and Troggs ('Wild Thing' definitely helped pave the way). This album is a monument to that spirit.

The rumours were right: this album is unadulterated rock and roll. It's fantabulous.

The music is really basic and simple, almost every song an archetypal Zeppo riff, but while they've kept the basic framework, everything within has been stripped down, polished, and reassembled. The sound is monolithic, with a definite feel of the room they're in.

But within that hammer of sound is a lot of separation, Page building multi-guitar passages and bridges all over the place, and Plant sounding very upfront and audible until you start trying to listen to the words. With the exception of 'Achilles Last Stand' they're as buried as ever, though the understandable snippets sound intriguing.

But the real star of the show is Bonzo, who is dynamite. He's everwhere, bulldozing songs along mercilessly. Between him and Page... Whether it's due to being recorded so fast, or also because of their return to rock and roll's roots, this album is very reminiscent of the first album. The only song to break the mould is 'Achilles Last Stand', which opens the set.

If ever a song succeeds 'Stairway To Heaven' this is it. Opening with a low profile solo guitar it soon hits speed of sound stride, with all the Olympian grandeur the title implies. From the first bar Bonzo is incredible, storming and charging and generally carrying on like a madman. The pace doesn't let up for the entire ten minutes, dynamics building and falling away as Page builds up batteries of guitars, with some amazing twin leads, and Robert weaves a quite bizarre tale heavily influenced by his accident. This song is going to be a mother-fucker live.

'For Your Life' is the Zep we're basically familiar with. While Bonzo and John Paul Jones hold down a metronome rhythm Robert pouts and struts and Jimmy builds up the guitars again. Apart from subtle changes in tempo and the odd outburst from Page, the tune sticks very methodically to its riff.

'Royal Orleans' is the only song written by the group (the rest are Page-Plant), choosing this time to demonstrate their knowledge of funk. Again Bonzo is way out front, pushing things along with some very nice hi-speed hi-hat, supported by some great rhythm guitar chops. Robert gives a guided tour of sorts of New Orleans, and the band are very basic. This is a great dance tune.

Side two opens with another solo guitar excursion before hitting what might be called Zeppelin's Steamhammer Boogie Riff. Great powerhouse rock and roll and the break is just a treat, Plant screeching away on harp and Page and Bonzo ripping it all apart while J-P saws on a really groinal bass. This is the song that bedroom popstars will really be able to play along with, Robert doing lots of deep-echo 'oohs' and 'aahs' and the guitar very simple and spaced out, the drums a madman-drummer's delight.

'Candy Store Rock' is 'Lemon Song' circa 1976. Which is to say, more subtlety. That time it's Zep's Jump Blues Riff, the music very simple, Robert sounding like a cross between Ricky Nelson and Elvis with lots of heavily echoed "Baby, baby". Although the instrumentation is sparse, with very little overdubbing, the energy is terrific.

'Hots On For Nowhere' continues the energy. After 'Achilles' this is my favourite, with a great bouncing rhythm and some beautiful guitar work. Basically this tune is Jimmy's trip, building up from one guitar into an incredible flow of interweaving solos and bridges, shifting into overdrive with the most ridiculous twang. The whole time he sticks to the most basic rock and roll licks, ending with a great cliched false ending that works really well.

'Tea For One' is the eight minute blues that Page mentioned in the interview of a few weeks ago, saying he was really pleased with the way the band holds back and that his solos didn't fall into cliches. Naturally, he's right. Starting with yet another archetypal Zep mid-speeder the band suddenly slow into a relaxed, rolling blues highly reminiscent of the slow numbers on the first album. Page plays some magnificent guitar, again building up multiple guitars, and yes, the band just sit back and relax without once letting loose. I don't know if pleasant is the right word to describe a Led Zeppelin song, but that's what this song is.

As for the cover...This is probably Hipgnosis’ best in several years capturing the mysticism and uneasiness of their earlier covers (Saucerful, Elegy) while also being one of the funniest covers ever. Each of those scenes looks so incredibly weird, the situations and the intensity of the colour, and at the same looks incredibly ludicrous. Nice one.

Hmm, one thing I haven't seemed to mention is the rather awesome power that this record blasts out. In terms of urgency and aggression and an all-out attack on rock and roll, this is Zeppelin's best album yet. It sounds best really loud, with your head really close to the speakers.

© J Ingham, 2007

Led Zeppelin: The Song Remains The Same

Led Zeppelin: The Song Remains The Same

Sounds, 13 November 1976

SO THERE we were. We'd pushed through the crowds outside the Warner West End theatre. Run the gamut of flashbulbs. Said Hello to the McCartneys. Sat down amongst Amanda Lear, Lisa Todd, Billy Connolly and a veritable galaxy of stars. Listened to SwanSong's finest over the p.a. Now we waited.

Zeppelin walked in single file, looking slightly sheepish. Page looked skeletal. The front half of the audience – the paying members – rose in respect. Perhaps Zep looked sheepish because they had just done the same thing 30 minutes earlier a few blocks away at the Shaftesbury Avenue ABC. Yes, it was typical Zeppelin efficiency: two premieres at once. They probably had time for a Milky Way, the sweet you can eat between premieres.

Several colleagues weren't enthusiastic about this cinematic sensation. After all, the New York Daily News had given it a 0 star out of a possible five, and the transatlantic grapevine had been afire with considered opinions. Perhaps the ultimate comment of the unconvinced was that overheard at the party afterwards: "My only complaint is it was two hours too long."

The Song Remains The Same lasts two hours, 15 minutes.

I was hoping for the best. Good rock movies are few and far between, but with the legendary Zep it-has-to-right-or-not-at-all attitude, one was optimistic. And with the equally legendary fantasy sequences intersecting the concert sequences, it promised to be a possibly fascinating, revealing insight into Led Zep as people as well as rock Olympians.

But that was the trouble. Zeppelin as mere mortals, giving specific insight into their private lives and fantasies, were largely depressing. Embarrassing even.

No wonder John Paul Jones remains silent and doesn’t give interviews if his idea of himself is the amateur Halloween/Hammer pastiche presented as his fantasy. (He shows himself to be a marvellous family man, though.)

Robert Plant's notion of being King Arthur wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't so simplistic. The superimposing of a rampant Excalibur in a sea of flames as Percy approaches the young damsel is one of cinema's sillier moments. (Not to mention finding a large, bright red, plastic looking mushroom under a tree.) The only thing missing was the box of Black Magic and a calling card.

Only Jimmy Page survives the pretensions of cosmickness, scaling the trials and tribulations of the mortal coil in the quest for Godhead.

John Bonham, perhaps wisely, keeps to the real World, revealing a love for dancing and very fast cars. More power to him.

Peter Grant's sequence was entirely in keeping – the ultimate manager's fantasy, loaded with abstract symbolism. Opening the film, it sets the tone: fun and games, but only because it's fuelled by business-as-usual.

But the stage sequences are something else again. Closer than you'll ever be to the group at a gig, it's great to watch Jimmy's fingering or Jones' bass work. Bonham's drum solo actually becomes interesting.

The visuals are good, but there's a limited amount of angles you can use on a stage, and by the second hour the repetition is wearing. It's just like being at a live gig but you can't walk around.

What compounded this was the sound. The cinema's speakers just weren't made for it, distorting the bass end all night because of the volume. Halfway through they began to break up. Overall it was dominated by a piercing treble. Without highs and lows it wasn't very pleasant.

The trouble with this film is it's so easy to knock it. Take the technical aspects. They're excellent, but the optical effects belong in a 1968 psychedelic film. Or the documentary aspects. Nowhere is the work that goes into a tour detailed. The boys get a telegram announcing a tour; the next day they're stepping off the plane onto the stage. Backstage scenes are shown without meaning or connection.

The sad thing about knocking it is that I basically liked it. Indulgent, yes, silly, too. But there's a liveliness in the Madison Square Garden sequences rarely seen in rock films, and some of the music – particularly 'Since I've Been Loving You' – is out of this world.

In the end you have to conclude it's exactly what it's advertised as: the world's most expensive home movie. Or as the Biz wigs told each other afterwards, 'This is to satisfy the average Zep fan and let him see the group at a time when they're not on the road'. How mercenary. How business-as-usual.

© Jonh Ingham, 2007