Volunteering does not equal tins of beans in kitchen cupboard, sad to say. So I'm sorry but unless I get passionate about something, that not for me. I know, me bad, perhaps, but truthful.
Today I went and saw me Mum and on the journey there had this idea fora post.
Here's the idea:
Led Zeppelin – a summary.
One of my favourestist bands of all time, here’s my appraisal of their output with memories of each album.
I will start with Led Zep II as the story that goes with the first album is perhaps the best so I don’t want to set a precedent.
Led Zeppelin II:
The first time I heard ‘Whole Lotta Love’ I wasn’t impressed, to be honest. It was kinda ok, but to me it seemed as if Whole Lotta Love was to rock music what painting by numbers was to real artistry.
The CCS version and the use of it for the Top Of The Pops theme tune bore out my judgement, I feel.
Having said that, apart from the drum solo, the rest of the album is superb, especially ‘Thank You’ and ‘Ramble On’.
Led Zep II for some off reason always reminds me of a nurses dance I went to at Hither Green Hospital around the time the album was released. The hospital is no longer there, it’s a housing estate now but it was in Hither Green Lane, the entrance was on the bend just before the row of shops.
My mate Phil Hurrell ran a mobile disco then and he played the sounds at this dance. Around 10pm it went off. Everybody seemed to be fighting everybody else. I have vivid memories of a young girl, probably a nurse, with blood streaming over her face from a cut forehead and saw one bloke be whacked full round the face with a chair.
After he was hit with the chair a gout of blood spurted out, hit the wall and ran down it. He collapsed, presumably unconscious, and I saw a pool of blood form around his head. Not being fond of being physically hurt and it not being my fight, I surreptitiously slipped away and went down the nearest pub.
I’m sure a fella named Pat Gallagher started that ruck, nasty little thug he was, came from the council estate flats at the other end of Hither Green Lane and always starting fights. He gave me a right hander once when I was sixteen for no good reason. One person I’m glad I lost touch with.
Led Zeppelin Three:
Off to a blistering start with Immigrant Song, this is an excellent album and hinted at what was to come. The original vinyl sleeve had little window holes in the front with an inner circular disc covered with little symbols and pictures, when you turned the disk the images appeared in the cut-outs.
Lots of quieter moments my faves are ‘Tangerine’ and ‘Gallows Pole’
This album mostly reminds me of meeting a lifelong friend, Bob Crawley (along with the Rolling Stones’ Sticky Fingers) as he also enthused about ‘Gallows Pole’. We both took a varied mixture of drugs to Led Zep III.
It also reminds me of a few years after the album was released when I was booked to be fill-in DJ at The Bull in East Sheen (near Putney) when the regular DJ, John Peel, went on holiday.
I played three Sunday evenings there, and at the time was into the track ‘Celebration Day’ and so played it each night. Went to that gig in my works transit van, my girlfriend of the time Stacey (Phil Hurrell’s sister) two orange 4 x 12 colums, a 200W Selmer valve amp and a coffin with a pair of turntables fitted with ceramic cartridges.
And probably a few lights. Maybe.
Led Zeppelin VI
Now we be cooking with gas. The opening track ‘Black Dog’ has possibly the best rock riff ever, in my opinion. One of those songs that I always find myself singing to myself without realising. Another one of those songs is ‘Please Mr Postman’ originally by Smokey and also covered by the Beatles and The Carpenters which makes me wonder where my brain is at sometimes.
However, I digress.
Sandy Denny’s in there and the album finishes with the very powerful ‘When The Levee Breaks’. In fact this musical outing’s greatness is only marred by ‘Stairway To Heaven’ which as far as I’m concerned is just yuk. I liked it when it first came out but I’ve now heard it two million times and it just grates these days. See also guitar shop poster reference in the movie ‘Waynes World’.
Memories of this one? The Southwark Park Tavern for sure where Roy, Bob and myself ran a disco at least four nights a week for around nine months. It was upstairs, only one staircase down to the main bar, a fire trap for sure.
Very druggy, full of real life villains in the Kray mould, and run by a guy named Billy Tarrant who was at one time Welterweight Boxing champion for Rotherhithe & Bermondsey and also worked as a roadie for The Small faces and was mates with John Lennon.
When Billy got tired of having his nose broken in the ring he opened The Southwark Park Tavern and his mate John Lennon performed the opening ceremony for him. Billy used to call us the Juke Box Boys and he liked us, for some odd reason.
Once, Bob played a game of Jacks with the regulars and when Roy and I arrived at 8pm to play records we found Bob unconscious slumped over the nearby park’s railings.
And finally, sometimes Billy couldn’t sleep and so after the pub shut he’d sometimes drive us all up to the West End in this funny little Renault 5 or something (he’d say ‘Flick the ash on the floor, DO NOT use the ash trays, it devalues the motor’) and we’d visit dodgy basement clubs and dives I never knew existed in places like Bayswater and Knightsbridge.
The bouncers at these places were built like Godzilla but Billy’s face got him in everywhere. Fun times and an eye-opener.
Houses Of The Holy:
Oh dear. What happened? This album was a bit naff to be totally honest. Had a few moments but overall was a huge disappointment. High point? I don’t think there was one. D’Yer Make ‘Er? Nope.
Memories:
Was living in a bedsit in Dinsdale Road, Blackheath when I bought this album. At this place I smoked an awful lot of marijuana, popped a lot of amphetamines, drunk too much wine and entertained some very lovely women. Which makes it sound better than it was, cos it wasn’t very glamorous at all, really.
At that time I working as a van driver delivering smoked salmon to assorted restaurants and rich Jewish ladies in London. Most ladies I took out for the day in that van wondered why I smelled of fish. ‘That’s not me, that’s the van’ ‘But I thought you worked for a newspaper?’ ‘Ok, I lied’.
Physical Graffitti:
This was it, the high point. A double album with not a duff track on it and enough highs to keep the most voracious of musical junkies satisfied for at least a decade. Hard to pick out one track as being better than another but will mention ‘Boogie With Stu’ and ‘Black Country Woman’ which are far from obvious choices but faves of mine.
Memories? I got into this album a little late but I always thinks of my first wife’s brother, Glen, when I hear this as he shared my enthusiasm for it. Glen’s possible claim to fame was that he was friends with Terry Chimes who the Clash renamed Tory Crimes when he drummed for them.
Glen lived at Deptford and had a very nice sister.
And I can remember playing ‘Kashmir’ when I was DJ-ing in a pub named The China Hall in Rotherhithe circa ’75. And almost cleared the place, they were more into Philly Soul, truth be told. Oh well, you gotta try.
Presence:
The opening track ‘Achilles Last Stand’ is passable, all the rest is rubbish.
This was the first album I bought after I’d bought my first real Hi Fi system – a Rotel receiver at 10 watts per channel; Pioneer PL12D Turntable with Shure 75EJ Cartridge and pair of Wharfedale Denton loudspeakers. And a pair of Koss Pro4A headphones.
Bit of a naff choice, really, poor way to break in a new sound system. But soon to come to be listened to on that system was the first Sex Pistols album. That woke me up.
In Through The Out Door:
Another crap album, only track worth playing is probably ‘All Of My Love’
Memories? Not many, maybe living in Sidcup and DJ-ing at The Saxon with Del Stevens.
Coda:
A poor way to finish a career although the band admitted this was just a collection of outtakes and different versions just to please fans. The only good tracks, oddly enough, were the bonus tracks added later to the CD reisuue, notably White Summer Black Mountain Side and Hey Hey What Can I Do (which actually was issued on an Atlantic Sampler album some years earlier).
And that’s about it, except for me to comment on the very first Led Zeppelin album release.
Led Zep I:
In 1969, when this was first released, it’s difficult to try and explain the impact this album had on popular music. It oozed class, energy, rawness and came at you like a well meaning kick in the nuts. Totally awesome.
I first heard mention of this LP when I was working as a trainee reporter at Fleet Street News Agency (which is a news agency in Fleet Street, oddly enough) when one of the reporters, Steve Downer, came in on the night shift and was going on about how great it was. This must have been winter time as I recall.
Next, I paid seven shillings and sixpence to see Led Zeppelin at Bromley Technical College and remember the gig was not packed at all. I also thought Led Zeppelin were ‘Quite Good’. It was me and girlfriend of the time, Sue Collins, me mate Roy and his then girlfriend Kathy Barrat.
After the gig we went bowling at Lewisham bowling alley.
When I eventually bought the album, early summertime, Phil Hurrell (I have mentioned him earlier) invited me to Hastings on a Friday. I don’t know how but he’d pulled some student girl who was staying in Hastings in this Bed & Breakfast place for the weekend.
She had told him that if he could sneak past the landlady he could spend the night with her, so I suppose our Phil was a little excited about this. He said I’d have to sleep in the motor though which caused me a little concern.
It was summer, it was warm, but his car was a frog-eyed Sprite which at that moment in time didn’t have either hard or soft tops fitted, cos the weather was so nice..
I said ‘How the **** I gonna sleep in that?’ He said ‘Simple, take the spare wheel out from behind the seats there’s enough room there and it’ll also give some shelter in case it rains’. Being 18, this seemed reasonable to me so off we went.
We drank in The Pump House, and around midnight Phil snuck in to see his amorous student and I curled up behind the front seats and dozed off. The spare wheel, incidentally, was on the passenger’s seat and I remember thinking I hoped nobody nicked it which was, perhaps, a rather irrational thought.
Some 15 minutes later this black haired lady, some years older than me, shook me awake. I thought to myself the 1969 equivalent of ‘WTF?’ and said ‘Yes?’
She spoke to me ‘Hello, I know your mate’s up there with Cherie (Cherie? Bloody blimey) but I don’t mind, I’m the landlady here. I saw you go to sleep in the car and I honestly don’t think you’ll be comfortable. Would you like to come inside my place for a drink, I can give you a better bed for the evening’.
This seemed good to me so I put the spare wheel back where it belonged and yawning, stepped through the front door.
I was 18, she must have been 35 and seemed positively ancient to me at the time. She had long black hair, possibly dyed, was slim and had the most adorable sparkling eyes. We drank wine in the kitchen where she told me her husband was a long distance lorry driver who was away to Germany for the next three days.
We must have spoken for an hour and we got on well. She said ‘Ok, would you like me to show you your bed?’ ‘Ok’ said I.
On seeing the bed I realised it was her bed.
Fast forward to morning time, no room for smut here.
We’re seated at the breakfast table around 9am me and her (I can’t remember her name for the life of me) drinking coffee and I’m feeling both knackered and elated. Phil sneaks down from upstairs and creeps past the open kitchen doorway thinking he’s got away with staying the night. The landlady says in a very loud voice ‘Good morning Phillip’ and we both laugh.
Phil looks mortified, comes back and looks in the kitchen doorway. His face was a picture when he sees me and her. I said ‘I’ll see you in the motor Phil, and don’t worry’. That wuz funnee.
I bid the landlady farewell and have not seen nor heard from her to this day, which may be just as well, really.
So we drive back, me and Phil, we’re both happy.
The Sprite is open topped, it’s very sunny. Phil is dark skinned on account he’s half Jewish, I’m fair skinned on account of being born in Birkenhead and of unknown ancestry so unbeknown to me I get sunburn and sunstroke on the journey home.
That evening we go to a house party in Petts Wood and around 10pm I feel distinctly ill, sunstroke kicking in.
I go home, sleep for 24 hours, wake, stay up all night, breakfast and feel ok.
I sit there sipping coffee and think to myself a great deal, life seems good. I was 18, what did I know?
So there, folks, is what Led Zeppelin I reminds me of. Could be worse I suppose.
To this day when I hear the opening chords and lyrics ‘In the days of my youth I was told what it means to be a man’ I still go tingly.
