LED ZEPPELIN DANCES ON AIR And It Ain't The Quaalude Shuffle

LED ZEPPELIN DANCES ON AIR And It Ain't The Quaalude Shuffle

MAY 1975 You don't know the whole Led Zeppelin story 'til you've seen the bond in action, touring from city to city and causing the now-famous "disturbances" they became known for in the 70's. Here Lisa Robinson follows ows the band, watches, and tells the whole story...

Lisa Robinson

“The thing about sharks is that the best shark bit never got out,” Zeppelin manager Peter Grant said, “There must have been about 28 or 30 odd sharks that were caught by the band once, and they stacked them up in the wardrobe closet. So-when the maids came in, as they obviously did to check the rooms after we left, they opened the door and an avalanche of sharks came tumbling out . . ."

“At the end of the last tour, I didn’t know' where I was at all,” Jimmy told me over breakfast at Chicago’s Ambassador East Hotel. “The only thing 1 could relate to was getting onstage and playing, 1 didn’t know where I was in the daytime. We had been away for such a long time - I’ll probably get like that at the end of this tour too. Then you go home and you walk right into all the mundane things like bills and your head is still swimming. You walk into your house with a suitcase and start undoing it, and it’s almost like being in another hotel room. I’d really like to get a lot of Afghani hangings and transform all my hotel rooms to look like mosques. It’s easily done .. . just get big wall hangings and lots of carpets and pile them on top of each other, and have everything candlelit. Then you’re walking into something that looks inviting, as opposed to something which is so obviously temporary. My home is like that, and since I can’t bring my home with me on the road, 1 have to do this.”

Peter reminisces about the last tour: “You know we were in the Midwest, and I said something to the hotel clerk about the fact that it must be rough to have all the rock groups in there throwing furniture and TVs out the windows into the sea, and he said that they had something worse once - and that was the Young Methodist’s Convention. Apparently they threw the carpets and everything out, and this clerk went into a whole rap about, ‘Well, it’s all right for you guys to take out all your things on stuff like that, but how do you think I feel, never being able to do the same thing?’ So I jeered him on a bit and said, ‘You’d really like that, would you?’ And he said, ‘Oh yeah, I’d love to do it.’ So I said ‘Well, have one on us, I’ll treat you, do whatever you want to do.’ And he went in and he fucking threw all the stuff around and threw the stuff out the windows and I went down to the desk and paid his bill .. . $490.00 . . .”

☆ A *

Led Zeppelin were back. Same group, same sold out concerts across the States, but there were some added dimensions this time, some differences. For a start, there was no cash around on this tour, the group having been the victims of an astounding hotel robbery in New York during the last go-round. They resided in only two hotels for the first half of the tour, taking the Starship in and out of cities where they performed almost nightly for a month. There was new music from the yet-to-be-released Physical Graffiti lp, most notably the L.A. groupie song, “Sick Again,” the incredible rocker “Trampled Underfoot” and the stunning “Kashmir.” They returned to the States as successful record company executives, Swan Song having had overwhelming success with their very first release - Bad Company - the Pretty Things, Maggie Bell and Mirabai signed for the future. Once again, no wives were along for the ride. “With the sort of organization we have and the number of people that it requires to keep this thing on the move now, it would be too painful, you know?” Robert said at the start of the tour in Chicago. “There really is only room for the musicians and the crew. Of course there often is the warcry from the ladies who are akin to rock and rollers: ‘Oh, but so-and-so goes and I don’t’

. . . you know.”

The Stones take their families, I venture. “Yes, but they don’t work like we do. It’s really highpowered work that we do and we work like slaves when we’re onstage and that’s the only way at the end of a night that we’ve climaxed. After that you either go out and get drunk or you sit down and read a book ... but whatever you do, you do it yourself." Read a book? “Did you hear that, darling?" he chuckles. “I brought a lot of books with me, although I haven’t looked at them yet. . . Herman Hesse ..

“I’d like to have it publicized that I came in after Karen Carpenter in the Playboy drummer poll,” roars Bonzo as I entered the dressing room at the Chicago Stadium. “She coujdn’t last ten minutes with a Zeppelin number," he sneers. When they’re together, there’s a familial, brotherly spirit surrounding Zeppelin - despite the occasional bitching and-or pettiness about who got more press, who kept who up all night, who wants the heat turned higher in the limousine. The music always matters as the major thing, and I’ve never seen them so obviously upset as the day after their first Chicago show which was. quite frankly, nowhere up to par. Jimmy’s broken finger (he caught it in a train door right before the start of the tour) and Robert’s touch of the flu didn’t help.

“I’m only playing with three fingers,” Jimmy told me, “I think I’m beginning to be a master of that technique. Maybe I’ll just go back home and work out a three, and then a two finger technique so that the next time I have an accident, which I’m bound to - at the start of an important tour. I’ll be ready.”

He had been joking about thinking of tossing himself out the window: “Well, not joking really, because I was getting very despondent about the fact that whatever I was doing was going wrong. The thing is, never before have two people in the group been down at the same time. I was thinking about it the other night when 1 was getting very depressed about all these little accidents . .. and I thought well, I’m reaping my karma now. heavily. But you know, no matter what happens with this group -we always do our best. No matter what the disabilities are, we’ve never gone out onstage and just messed about.”

"Robert parodies himself better than anyone: fondling his crotch, tossing his hair..."

And so, concerts two and three in Chicago turned out just fine. After the third show, we all assemble in the hotel’s Buttery Disco for an evening out. Tour manager Richard Cole comes to the bar and joins Bad Company’s tour manager Clive Coulson. “Anything rude going on?” he asks wickedly, “Anything naughty?” We’re going to what they all refer to as “some poov place,” but to me it’s just like being home at Le Jardin. Chicago’s “Bistro” is all strobe lights, B.T. Express, Labelle and “one monkey don’t stop no show” piped in over the sound system. Robert is dancing Jimmy, who seems to have some charcoal eyemakeup around his eyes, is sitting in a booth with Peter Grant, Richard Cole, Clive Coulson. There’s lots of Dom Perignon, and a girl attempts to show Clive how to do the Bump. “Don’t I take you to the best places?” laughs Cole.

☆ ☆ ☆

The Starship is the same as the last tour. It makes it easier but for those of us afraid of flying, it’s still not fun. Drinks, sandwiches, hot food is served, people settle down into their own little patterns. Jimmy and Peter tend to stay back in the “den,” Robert moves around, chatting to reporters, Bonzo stays up front trying to get some rest, and John Paul Jones takes on all comers at chess and backgammon. People watch videotapes of Flash Gordon and Don't Knock the Rock; Jonesy dragged Jimmy up front to watch Little Richard do “Long Tall Sally’’ and they all screamed with pleasure. During Flash Gordon Jimmy said to me, “You know it’s incredible the vision of the future that people had back then. They really thought it would be all silvery spaceships . . . because they still had craftsmen then. But I’m a great believer that the craftsmen will return.”

“I've developed a lot of fears which I never had before.” Jimmy confessed. “I still am terrified of flying, but things like fear of heights and claustrophobia, fear of heights is the worst one and I never was afraid of heights before. I remember when 1 was young I used to run along railway bridges with 250 foot drops.. .just dancing....

“I get nervous if I have to hang around before a concert in the dressing room. I like to get in and get straight on, so that it doesn’t actually hit me that I’m on the stage until I’m standing there. As soon as the music starts I’m fine, but I hate all that hanging around backstage, contemplating things. I don’t think the others get as nervous as all that, though.”

As the Starship landed in a snow covered Canada, Robert quipped, “Now if all that were cocaine... well, Jethro Tull could do a winter season here.” (Reports have gotten back to the band that Tull’s people have spread the word he’s done better business than Zep did in L A. “That’s ridiculous,” snorted Peter Grant, “We have more people in our entourage than they’ve got at the box office.” “The unwanted entourage,” added Robert.)

“If you see a very tall, elegant woman with a blonde chignon in Montreal who knows quite a lot about Cocteau, that’s Mary,” said my friend Fran, “and tell her I said hello ...” I didn’t, but I did see a lot of French Canadian kids. They look the same as kids at the Academy of Music, but Robert goes a bit out of his way to charm them. When he sings “Do you know my name,” during “Sick Again,” he counters with “Je m’appelle Robert.” As we got back on the plane he said, “II fait froid ..and then, “I’ll bet I'm the only bi lingual rockstar you know,” he coughs, “at least the only bilingual rockstar with TB.”

☆ ☆ ☆

New York. Not too much happened at the Plaza. Jimmy watched a personal print of Lucifer Rising (for which he did the soundtrack) in his suite at an obscenely loud volume; “Something’s wrong with the projector,” he said, “and it buzzes unless I blast it. I’m sure they’re going to throw me out of the hotel...” His TV set didn’t work because candlewax dripped down into it, and he didn’t much care for his suite. “It looks like the fucking Versailles Palace,” he complained. No doubt, Bonzo had the best suite, complete with the pool table that he insisted be installed. “You kept me awake all night long playing those damn billiards,” Robert accused him. “If you do that again I’ll have to blast Moby Grape records all night to bother you.” “Moby Grape couldn’t keep me awake,” Bonzo retorted. Jones would mumble about looking for trouble; “There’s not enough of it in my life.”

Suite 301: Robert, always aware of The Public Image, is ever willing to pose for, and look through, photos of himself. He parodies himself better than anyone . . . fondling his crotch, tossing his hair, and now there’s a new habit: sort of blinking and twinkling his eyes and grinning . . . cute. But John Paul Jones says that his kids do better Robert imitations. Plant is a vision now in rolled up blue jeans, white ankle socks, no shirt (of course) and a room service napkin shaped like a diaper on top of his head. “Hmm, dressing to the right, I see,” says Jimmy, and the two playfully toss each other about on the floor for a minute. Watching is Magnet, Robert’s childhood friend who works for Deep Purple but who’s grown very attached to Zeppelin this tour and vice versa. “Have you met Magnet?” Robert asks. “He’s BAHEEMOTH, the sea monster. It can’t be spelled.”

"If all that snow were cocaine, Jethro Tull could do a winter season here."

We leave the Plaza to have dinner down the block at the “Nirvana” Indian restaurant, and Plant waves to the taxi drivers as he promenades (there is no other word for it) down the street. The owners and waiters at Nirvana make a big fuss over Mr. Personality, much affection all around, and soon the table is laden with Indian delicacies. “Have you got any fresh dania?” asks Robert, showing off to the Indian waiters. Then he turns and says, “I should know about this food, I married an Indian .. .” “So you tell them every time you come in here,” laughs Jimmy. Robert fondles Jimmy’s knee under the table. “You used to do it over the table,” camps Page. “You know, they always call me a screaming banshee in reviews,” Robert says, “what does that mean in Indian?” “A small toad,” says Danny Goldberg, straight faced. “WHAT???”

“I’m keeping a dream diary,” Jimmy told me. Would you ever put it out? “What? A dream diary? Well god, somebody would know you inside out if they read that. I’m not that open or loose.”

The Rainbow, L.A. Robert had the flu and St. Louis was cancelled, the rest of the band took off to the West for a day’s . . . vacation. A stoned anonymous insurer was yelling at Page, “YOU CAN’T FUCKING PLAY GUITAR!! FUCK YOU!!” and Jimmy was about to hit him when Peter shouted, “Don’t hit him Jimmy, the hands! The hands!” So Grant took the offender outside to advise him to cool it. The kid didn’t stop. Peter kicked him, grabbed him by the shirt and was just about to hit him when a nubile local approached and said, right in the midst of the melee, “Mr. Grant, can I please have your auto-

Greensboro, North Carolina: 800 fans were storming the backstage area after the concert (one limo window was shattered, another’s roof dented) and the limousine drivers, who had apparently never witnessed this before, were terrified. “Get out of the car,” Peter commanded, “I’ll drive.” The police escort nervously asked Grant not to bump the back of his car, and Peter replied, “If you don’t go fast enough I’ll fucking jump over you!” With Peter behind the wheel of one car, and Magnet the other, they drove so fast that even maniac driver Richard Cole was panicked. Peter Gee confessed later that he too, had been scared, but he was joking all the way in order to keep everybody “moodied up.” As they arrived at the airport, 8 people in each car and safe, Grant did one “lap of honor” around the Starship.

☆ ☆ ☆

At the Garden in New York 1 tell Jimmy that the lights surrounding him during “Dazed and Confused” looked ominous. “That’s it,” he smiles, pleased. Your voice sounded terrific, I venture to Robert. “This is the truth,” he says, typically.

No Zeppelin show would be complete without that old Cole speedy getaway. Richard’s got them all lined up by the backstage ramp, ready to race back to the hotel for a bit of the old “tarting up” before going out. I’m apprehensive about the police on horses in the streets. “So cover the ballet,” mumbles lawyer Steve Weiss. Soon it’s on to the Penn Plaza Club where Atlantic Records’ Ahmet Ertegun is giving the boys a party. Andy Warhol sits in a corner with his entourage, Steve Paul is there with his. Ahmet comes over to trade insults with Richard Cole and then leaves, saying “I’m going to go over and talk to Peter Grant, he’s more important." Ahmet kissed Robert, then Peter and Robert. Much of the ensuing conversation was incoherent and-or unprintable, even in a non-family publication such as this one. An enthusiastic Amanda Lear quickly joined Jimmy Page. (“I’m in love," she cooed over the telephone to me the very next day.) Lots of champagne, cat pack kisses, and more barbed insults followed. Danny Goldberg left early, Cameron Crowe posed for photos with Lance Loud. Keith Moon, Joe Walsh and all the Zeps stayed to the end. “Did I have a good time last night?” Richard Cole asked Earl McGrath on the phone the next day. It was that kind of party.

Zeppelin is, above all, a group. But there’s no doubt that much of the attention - internally, externally - is focused on Jimmy Page. People always seem to check things out with Jimmy before making any final decisions. “You know I’ve been playing guitar now for ten years,” Jimmy said to me in one of our discussions, “and yet sometimes I seem to get the feeling that people think I’m just starting. I’d like to think that I’ll still be playing in ten, twenty years time ... but I just don’t see it happening. I can’t put it into words, it’s just this funny .. . sort of, foreboding feeling that I have.

“I always think that I’ve not long to go anyway,” he said, “I never thought I’d pass 30. And I don’t feel it, I don’t feel 31. Sometimes I feel 1000 years old, but othertimes I still feel 17 or 18, totally naive about lots of things that are going on. I think that last time we spoke I mentioned that it was a race against time, well, I still feel that way. There is so much to do in such a short time ... I’ve had that feeling closing in on me for maybe the last few years.”

☆ ☆ ☆

“Maybe one day I’ll be able to have enough time to live in Kashmir without suddenly feeling the urge to grind a little bit. But I doubt it,” Robert said, thoughtfully. “Every now and then I just have to go out and do this extraordinary thing ... In fact, I’ve got a permanent grin on my face mostly all the time when we’re touring. I’ll tell you, at the Chislehurst Caves function we had around Halloween, I realized that above everything else, above record companies, above films, we were Led Zeppelin - above everything.

“It’s not just that we think we’re the best group in the world,” Robert continued, “it’s just that we think we're so much better than whoever is Number Two."