Rock and Roll Music: July 2004 Archives
(My greatest friend is moving away tomorrow. It makes me sad but we will still be great friends and she will better her life. It is an amazing honor to have her amazing writing on this website I call home. God bless Marianna Ritchey.)
I have known Led Zeppelin was the greatest band of all time for about 3 years, though my relationship with them stretches all the way back to the late eighties, when I was given a cassette copy of "Houses of the Holy" for Christmas in 7th grade. That album, along with Bob Marley's "Legend," blew my mind for a full year, until I lost it in the great Boarding School Move of 1991. After that, Zep didn't resurface in my life until senior year, when I realized that I should have lost my virginity to "IV," rather than to some terrible Jimmy Buffet album.
It's hard to put your finger on the essence of what makes Led Zeppelin the greatest band of all time. Is it the musicianship? Sure, each member is almost preternaturally gifted at playing their instrument; from the brainy reclusiveness of John Paul Jones to the outrageous, hairy, tank-topped and mindfucking power of the late John Bonham to the gentle vibe control of golden-maned Robert Plant to the life-altering brilliance of silent and hostile Jimmy Page, of whom Katy Davidson once said, "thinking about him sitting in his room writing those riffs makes me literally cry," no one could argue that Led Zeppelin doesn't showcase a bewildering display of technical skill. But so do a lot of bands. Eddie Van Halen once claimed he could play 164th notes, which, aside from the fact that the speed of note subdivisions is not concrete and therefore impossible to brag about (since 164th notes could conceivably be played at the rate of one per minute, for example), is a really dumb thing to say. But even if it were true, and not dumb--that's not special. It's sure as hell not enough to make something The Greatest Of All Time. Think of it this way: I type 117 words per minute. That's pretty goddamn fast. But does it make me the greatest WRITER of all time? No. No, it doesn't. So it must be something else that makes Led Zeppelin better than all other bands in this or any other century.
Is it the songwriting? Sure, it's good. It's VERY good. For a band which relied so heavily on sexual innuendo, alcohol abuse obtuse JRR Tolkien references and 7 minute prog songs about heaven for their lyrical content, Zep remained incredibly fresh and innovative throughout its career; constantly challenging previous conceptions of what their "sound" was; changing, progressing, moving through dirty blues to painfully long stoner jam sessions to tight, crystal-clear concept epics to all out rock and fucking roll. But lots of bands have amazing songwriting. Cat Stevens is an amazing songwriter. But he's not the Greatest Band of All Time. Hildegarde of Bingen was inspired by visitations from angels, demons, and apocalyptic visions of the fall of Lucifer--but she's not the Greatest Band of All Time. Dmitri Shostakovich wrote the "Leningrad" symphony while Nazi bombs fell all around him, but he's not the Greatest Band of All Time.
It's not popularity, either. Though it's hard to argue with the legions of wall-eyed, swaying hippies that packed Madison Square Garden during John Bonham's 20 minute drum solo in 1973, the fact remains that Motley Crue packed the Civic Auditorium in Los Angeles with thousands of screaming fans before they had recorded a single note or been approached by a single label--yet they're not the Greatest Band of All Time.
No, it's something else that makes Led Zeppelin so special. It's something else that causes the band to rise from the mere brilliance wherein so many great bands languish, that causes them to ascend, glistening, to the top of the smooth pedestal upon which they stand, alone, as The Greatest Band Of All Time. And it's something I find impossible to explain.
My friend Adam Forkner and I share this love of Led Zeppelin, along with an undying appreciation for Ween in a time when most of our friends claim to have "outgrown" them. Perhaps my assertion that Led Zeppelin is in fact the Greatest Band of All Time is best affirmed by the following statement, which Mr. Forkner sent to me via email:
"when i was a kid my parents went to the store and left
me alone in the house so i took out my dads zep one
record, turned the stereo up all the way and started
rocking out with a spoon for a mic and then, in the
middle of a jimmy page solo with my foot on the back
of the couch, ready to do some theatrical flip in time
with 'whole lotta love" they came back and i was
embarassed but they were mostly proud to have raised a
son who knew the meaning of rock and fucking roll."
A few months ago I grabbed a handful cds from my former employer's promo bin with the passive intention of making a few dollars on a record review, or if nothing else, trading in for in-store credit. The results were even more marginal than expected, and with the exception of a handful of keepers (Camera Obscura, Ghost to Falco), most everything ended up in the "wouldn't keep it for free" stack.
wait, let me explain (as if it weren't self-evident)--when sorting promos, there are three distinct categories that I have developed for clear, organized pilings: the "I'd buy it used" pile (these are keepers), the "Maybe, since i'm not paying for it" pile, and the "wouldn't keep it for free" pile. Now, with this particular promo round, there weren't too many keepers, and even less maybes. among them was a CD by a band called The Hold Steady entitled Almost Killed Mean ugly-as-sin promo from hit-and-miss New York label Frenchkiss. It came on high recommendation, and despite a few reservations, I held on to it.
One day I played it for my roommate, and his reaction was classic: "This sounds like the kind of music that only bored music journalists could get into." There might be some truth to that. But I was sold.
Following the break-up of their Minneapolis powerhouse Lifter/Puller (whose fans are famously obsessive), singer Craig Finn and bassist Tad Kubler moved to New York, and soon formed The Hold Steady. If you're familiar with/not particularly moved by Lifter/Puller, don't be scared away immediately--I've never really been a fan either. But what might rightly scare you are following (and very apt) phrases: bitchin' licks, sax solos, and "positive jams." And, well, I certainly can't blame you.
The Hold Steady is a self-professed reactionary statement: upon moving to NY, the Lifter/Puller's felt incredibly alienated by the predictability of the NOW New York movement (electro/disco/no-wave), and committed themselves to the noble task of "not writing anything for the sake of being weird, artsy, or unconventional." The result is even less cool than you might imagine--some place between where Classic Rock meets Bar Band--but with surprising earnesty. Where bands like the Darkness embrace irony as a means of distancing themselves from the responsibility of sincerity, there isn't a moment of Almost Killed Me that comes off feeling contrived. And that includes songs that sound like Meatloaf anthems. and songs that sound like the E Street Band.
Now, you must remember: I hold no nostalgia what-so-ever for the majority of Classic Rock's musings, nor patience for irony-based musicianship, but for some reason, The Hold Steady really strike an unfamiliar chord with me. The thing that keeps the Hold Steady from toppling over into the ridiculousness of these seemingly insurmountable trappings are the rasped vocals of frontman Finn--a literate storyteller with rapid-fire, surprisingly compelling narratives. He's brash, abrasive, and funny, but never pandering. The result feels surprisingly like the better moments of their Minnesota brethren Husker Du, and their little brothers the Replacements, who are quite possibly the greatest Bar Band of all time.
So, while the Hold Steady may not be moving mountains, it's an admirable calling to take on the "silliest and most predictable musical movement since the third wave Ska revival of the late 90s"--however fruitlessly. Keep on keeping the 'Mats alive, Greatest Band Of All Time.
