Review of Led Zeppelin IV

Released 1971

"All last night sat on the levee and moaned, All last night sat on the levee and moaned, Thinkin' 'bout me baby and my happy home. Going, go'n' to Chicago, Go'n' to Chicago, Sorry but I can't take you. Going down, going down now, going down."

Were I in the unfortunate position that my home was in flames, and I'd managed to save all my family and the cats, the next CD I'm grab, after The Dark Side Of The Moon, would be Led Zeppelin IV.

I've had to think quite hard about whether this record warrants inclusion in a blog about prog rock albums, but ultimately I think it is such an important album, not just for me personally, but in terms of cultural iconography, that it would be petty to omit it because it may not tick all of the archetypal prog boxes. Plus, it's my blog!

I'm actually on (at least) my sixth copy of Led Zeppelin IV, having owned it on vinyl, pink vinyl, cassette and at least three CDs. My first copy was actually procured when I was fifteen or so, before TDSOTM and therefore before my prog odyssey proper began. So yes, I am screwing up my chronology, but as I've just about reached that pivotal moment in my life when I went away to 'study' at University, it seems wrong to proceed without at first looking back.

I first became aware of Led Zeppelin when a classmate in my last year of school remarked when he saw me reading a review of an AC/DC concert; "if you like Angus, you'll love Jimmy Page". After some swotting up, I noticed when handed the book list from which we had to select our school leaving present, that there was a biography about the band. The romance and glamour of the band's history had me hooked immediately. Shortly afterwards, on a holiday in France with about fifteen other contemporaries from Cornwall, there were two huge Led Zeppelin fans who further piqued my interest, largely on the back of some rather frenetic head-banging to Whole Lotta Love in the interestingly fragranced fug of a French village disco.

On my return, with my remaining holiday money I bought Highway to Hell and Led Zeppelin IV. For some odd reason, the afternoon I played both those albums for the first time is one of my clearest memories of that time. I cannot possibly justify a review of an ACDC album in a prog blog, but the exuberance and energy of that album in particular was a perfect scene setter for the wonder that is Led Zeppelin IV.

The scratchy slidey intro followed by "Hey, hey momma.." has to be the best possible start to an album. For someone reared on the NWOBHM bands whose careers relied in a not inconsiderable way to Led Zeppelin's legacy, hearing the 'real deal' caused instant goose-bumps and a literal turning of the head. The impact was absolutely instant; it was like unleashing a wild animal through the speakers. I had never heard a band play so tightly and so emotionally with astonishing fluidity. Until that point I had thought that David Coverdale and Freddie Mercury were gods, but the massiveness of Robert Plant's presence was overpowering.

Before I could recover, Rock And Roll continued the assault with drumming which made every other band I'd heard up until that point seem positively pedestrian.

While The Battle Of Evermore played I referred to the sleeve to find out who was providing the female vocal. I remembered that apparently, if you were to hold the picture from inside the gate fold sleeve length ways up against a mirror, the 'black dog' would reveal itself. The sleeve itself was very prog: no title, runes accompanying each players name and an impenetrable meaning behind the juxtaposition of the painting of the stick bearing country man and the tower blocks of Dudley.

Stairway Heaven was already known to me, of course, but when heard in context, as the band intended it to be heard against the varying styles of the other songs on the album, it seemed all the more sophisticated and not just the albatross which bestrode their career.

Misty Mountain Hop had an intoxicating hippy refrain which contributed directly to my subsequent immersion in the whole late sixties and early seventies music and cultural movement. Both Four Sticks and Going To California continued to amaze and delight me in their depth and maturity, all the time making me reconsider much of the more ridiculous aspects of my heavy metal collection.

I didn't know it at the time, but When The Levee breaks was to become one of my favourite tracks by anyone, ever. From the mouth organ intro to the gorgeous spiralling guitar, the stunning drumming and the genre defining vocal performance, it really is a phenomenal tour de force, which only gets better with each fresh hearing.

Even as a teenager, I knew that I had stumbled across one of the most important albums I would ever own.

There are very few perfect albums. Even TDSOTM has flaws; On The Run never quite worked for me, being a very mild interruption to a perfectly paced album. Looking at my music collection now, I am struggling to spot any flawless albums, other than Led Zeppelin IV. There isn't a single note, moan or drum beat I'd change. Perfect and practically prog.