Prince - Prince (LP, 1979)

This is basically Part II of the Early Prince saga, and it's another LP where he still seems to be finding his way. Released about a year and a half after his debut, this record isn't a whole lot different stylistically than his first, but it's a bit more potent with the hooks. If Prince knew he was going to have to get some radio play to make it (and I'm sure he did), he certainly made it his priority here.

The disco-ish stuff is still here, especially in the first track, "I Wanna Be Your Lover," which would be Prince's first semi-hit single. But, you can also hear the synths starting to take over, and the beat is a bit harder than a standard dance track. The same can be said for a lot of the rest of this record. There's plenty of slink and R&B, but the pop and rock is starting to work its way in. "Why You Wanna Treat Me So Bad," another single from this record, lays on the guitar pretty thick, and it's one of the first tracks where Prince starts to really sound like Prince.

"Sexy Dancer" works along the same lines, and so does the ultra-catchy "I Feel for You," which most of us remember from Chaka Khan's version that came out five years later. Prince's version sounds a little safe if you're used to Khan's crazy belt-it-out hip-hopped take on the track, but I still dig the shit out of the original.

My favorite track here, however, has got to be "Bambi." Hearing a young Prince wail on his guitar smack-dab in the middle of a record that's immersed in R&B is just nuts. It's one of the most ass-rocky songs of his career, and it's just fantastic. (Check out a sweet 1990 performance of it here.)

Other than that, there are a few ballads on here that are solid enough (with "Still Waiting" probably being the standout), but it's the closer, "It's Gonna Be Lonely," that makes it worth sticking around till the end. A big track with a great build-up, and a quality ending.

All in all, another nice effort from Prince, but it wouldn't be until his next record that shit would get major. Oh, and extra points to the little guy for self-titling his sophomore LP. Always an odd move.

And do yourself a favor and check out this awesome performance:

"I Wanna Be Your Lover"/"Why You Wanna Treat Me So Bad?"

Prince - For You (LP, 1978)

You ready for some Prince? Settle in - we're taking it from '78 to '88 (possibly '89), or what I consider Prince's Decade of Dominance. Possibly excluding his first two records (this being one of them, obviously), the dude was flawless for the better part of ten years, and prolific-as-shit to boot. Let's get to it.

Only Prince could take a few major-label albums to get warmed up. Don't get me wrong: this album and its follow-up were both modest hits, but we all know it wasn't until Dirty Mind that the little guy finally found his groove. Still, this record is notable for a number of reasons. First off, it's Prince's debut record, and he recorded it when he was 19. He was still a teenager, for chrissake. And, of course, he was already writing, producing, composing and performing the whole damn thing by himself. (He certainly had some help on this record and many others, but it's always been fun to believe that he truly is the one-man show.)

How this kid convinced Warner Bros. to let him produce his debut record is beyond me - though I'm sure there's some story to it - but it's pretty damn cool. And apparently he spent three times the money he was allotted for the recording, which is hilarious to me for some reason. This brash newcomer, etc...

1978 was a rough year for music in general, and for someone who was clearly looking to make a name for himself, Prince must have felt confused as to which direction to take. It shows in the songs on this record, which flutter between R&B pop crooners ("Baby," "My Love is Forever"), delicate balladry ("Crazy You," "So Blue"), full-on disco ("Just As Long as We're Together," "In Love"), and incongruous funk-rock (the awesome "I'm Yours").

"Soft and Wet" ended up being the only semi-hit, and though it's a bit disco-fied, it's the pop aspects that make it memorable, as well as the innuendo-filled lyrics. Price must have noticed this, because it's an angle he would go on to work into his signature sound.

This record sounds mad dated now, but I still think it's cool as shit. If nothing else, it's Prince's debut and he's rocking a sturdy 'fro on the cover. You can love it for those two reasons alone.

Oh, and I should probably mention that Prince is very un-YouTube friendly, so if any of these audio links get pulled, I apologize.

"Crazy You"

Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here (LP, 1975)

I'm just going to come out and say it: I've never heard Dark Side of the Moon. I'm sure I've heard all the songs separately at some point in my life, but I've never sat down and listened to that record. Never owned a copy. Never even thought about it.

Never saw Laser Floyd. When I was 14 I owned a copy of The Wall on CD, but I never got into it and ended up giving it away to a friend. I really dug the song "Learning to Fly" when they played the video all the time on MTV in 1987, but I never picked up A Momentary Lapse of Reason.

Pink Floyd just never got through to me. And maybe I never disliked the band as much as I loathed the people who were fans of the group. Floyd has always struck me as music for dumb people who think they're smart (much like Tool does nowadays), or people who really like drugs. I don't care for either of those kinds of people. Maybe that explains why I'm proud to not be a Pink Floyd fan. (And yes, I realize how annoying that is.)

Yet, I still have my copy of Wish You Were Here. As a teenager I loved the mysterious album art, and the fact that there's only four songs on it. And really, that's still what I love about it. "Shine On You Crazy Diamond" is such a ridiculous exercise in bloat-rock that I've somehow come to embrace it. I've never been a huge fan of "Welcome to the Machine," but I think the title track is the best song I've ever heard from the band. And "Have a Cigar" ain't a bad one, either.

Still, this has never led me to seek out any of their other stuff, and it's much too late for that now. But I'll hold on to this LP, because I still find it enjoyable from time to time. And I still think the cover art is cool as shit.

"Wish You Were Here"

The Mothers - Just Another Band from L.A. (LP, 1972)

Recorded a few months after the Fillmore East - June 1971 LP, this is the other big Flo & Eddie-era live album released by The Mothers, and due to an unfortunate injury sustained by Zappa shortly thereafter, it would be the last. But it's a great one to go out on.

If you didn't like the Fillmore LP, you probably won't like this one. But if you did, you'll love this oddball grouping of five tracks. The groupie stories are gone, and they've been replaced with a random variety of songs. The entire first side of the LP is devoted to "Billy the Mountain," the 25-minute rock-opera-ish giant that I still don't quite understand. I think I used to, but it's been a while. My roommate in college loved the song, but he didn't even fuck around with this version. He went straight for the unedited, thirty-minute-plus version from 1993's Playground Psychotics. (Don't worry - we're getting to that.) I've heard "Billy the Mountain" a hundred times, but it's been a decade since I really gave it a go.

But I still like it. It's stop-and-go, with short bits of song interspersed with the dialogue from Flo & Eddie. And when the band is allowed to let loose a little bit, the grooves can get going. So that's nice.

The second side of the record starts with an updated, more rocking version of "Call Any Vegetable," which adds some new sections and ends up being an almost completely different song. Pretty damn fun. After that, it's the falsetto majesty of "Eddie, Are You Kidding?," which I always thought had something to do with Eddie of Flo & Eddie, but I guess it's about some guy who was on TV at the time. Regardless, it's a nice little pop number, and one of the shorter songs on the record.

"Magdalena" is a peppy, slightly dirty number that starts off sort of shitty but ends up going through a series of twists and turns and ends up being pretty entertaining. "Dog Breath," which appears in different versions on a bunch of Zappa records, winds things up here. And it remains one of my favorite Mothers songs. The version here is different than all the others, and Flo & Eddie just nail it. It's great.

Put this record together with the Fillmore LP, and you've got yourself a solid representation of what The Mothers were all about during the first few years of the 70's. And if you can tell the difference between Flo & Eddie's voices, consider yourself a true aficionado.

"Call Any Vegetable"

The Mothers - 200 Motels (2xLP, 1971)

The soundtrack to 200 Motels is almost as confusing as the movie. The songs don't follow the order in which they appear in the film, the incidental music (the orchestral stuff) is mixed in with the rock stuff, and some of it includes dialogue from the film, which sounds like it was recorded directly from the film itself.

So, the recording quality varies throughout the album, which is a little distracting, and any plot devices that were used in the film are pretty much lost on the soundtrack. In some ways, it makes a perfect companion to the film. You can't follow it, there are slow parts throughout, and unless you're really paying attention (and know some stuff going into it), you most likely won't be able to make any sense of it.

This is easily The Mothers album I have heard the least, so I can't say a whole lot about the intricacies of it, but there are some great Flo & Eddie-led jams on here. Like the movie, and like the Fillmore LP, the songs are mostly based on life on the road, specifically about groupies and sex. The lyrics are sometimes dirty, often juvenile, and some focus on back-and-forth exchanges between Flo & Eddie, who play caricatures of themselves and others. If this sounds like a busy collection of songs, it is. It's a long, haphazard group of tracks, but overall, a good album.

The orchestral tunes are what they are: well-recorded pieces of Zappa's music, performed by the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. If that's your thing, you'll love the stuff in that format presented here. The Mothers stuff often sounds like slightly better-than-average bootleg recordings, which doesn't deter too much from the overall effect of the songs. In fact, it mostly works, considering the subject of the songs. Cuts like "Mystery Roach" and "Shove it Right In" are some of the more rocking songs The Mothers of this era would produce, and "She Painted Her Face" contains a really powerful melody.

There could be a little more rock here, in my opinion, but if you have the patience to plow through the entirety of this thing, you'll get some serious satisfaction out of it. And if you can find a decent copy of the LP, it's a great-looking one. Gatefold cover, and if you're lucky, the original booklet that was included with original pressings. It's sort of a weird 200 Motels storybook. Of course, it doesn't make much sense, either, but the pictures are nice.

"Mystery Roach"

The Mothers - Fillmore East - June 1971 (LP, 1971)

As I said, Zappa disbanded the original Mothers of Invention around 1969. However, he kept Ian Underwood (wind instrument dude) and Don Preston (keyboardist and pure stallion) around for the band's next incarnation, which would mostly be referred to as, simply, The Mothers. This is the first record that left off the "of Invention" and it's also the first record to feature what some refer to as the "Vaudeville" Mothers. I never refer to them as that. I refer to this period as "The Flo & Eddie Years."

I'm not going to go into the whole story of Flo & Eddie (really Mark Volman and Howard Kaylan, respectively), but if you want a quick synopsis, you can check out their Wikipedia article. Bascially, they were the dudes from The Turtles. And for the short time that they were with Zappa and the newly formed Mothers, they were Zappa's mouthpieces, performing songs/skits and generally hamming it up. Some people love this era of The Mothers, others struggle with it. I, sometimes against my better judgment, love it. I got into the Flo & Eddie shit before I even turned twenty, and I think I was smoking enough pot that it all made sense to me. Now I've just got a soft spot for the whole damn thing.

Don't get me wrong: I still prefer the original Mothers of Invention, but I like this a lot, too. And in a different way. But I understand why folks wouldn't. There's a lot of talking. Seriously. A lot.

At this point in his career, Zappa was certifiably obsessed with showing the world his interpretation of the life of a touring rock band. It's really all that this album and 200 Motels (the film and the album - both of which we'll get to) are about. And, like I said, this era of The Mothers is very lyric-heavy. And, considerably and consistently dirtier than anything Zappa had done up to this point. Does it feel a little juvenile at certain points? Definitely. Are there some great songs mixed in with the performance dialogue? Yes. So, I've always felt that if you have the patience for this record, it really pays off.

Yes, "Do You Like My New Car" is basically seven minutes of Flo & Eddie talking over a slow groove. But, the four songs that follow it (and conclude the album) are full-on fantastic. They even throw an amended cover of "Happy Together" in there, and it somehow works. There are some slow cuts (if you don't like hearing Flo & Eddie talk) during the beginning-middle of the LP, but "Latex Solar Beef" and "Willie the Pimp" are tough to beat.

This album, like a lot of Zappa's stuff, takes patience. But wait until we get to Playground Psychotics. It's from this same era, is three times as long, and features backstage conversations between band members. Fillmore East seems like an EP compared to that thing. But that one will have to wait. But not too long.

Anyway. There is a time and a place for this record. If you can find it, there's some serious enjoyment to be had here. I firmly believe that.

Not from this actual album, but a live recording from the same era.

The Mothers of Invention - Weasels Ripped My Flesh (LP, 1970)

I mentioned earlier that The Mothers released two albums post-breakup, both containing previously unreleased material. Burnt Weeny Sandwich was the first, and this one's the second. While the style of music is relatively the same on both records (long instrumental songs, some experimental stuff), Weasels Ripped My Flesh is a bit looser, probably due to the fact that the majority of it was recorded live.

Still, it doesn't necessarily sound live, which makes for an interesting feel throughout the album. Meaning - and I guess this is the most significant aspect of the "not sounding live" part - you don't often hear the crowd, even during the quieter breaks in the songs (of which there are many). But, you can tell from the recordings that these aren't studio takes - there are minor blips and voices heard, and there is certainly some improvisation (within the predetermined structure of the song, of course) taking place. But it's not until the end of each side of the LP that you hear the audience applaud.

Recording his band live and not necessarily listing the album as such became a go-to move for Zappa, and I think this record might have represented that method in its nascent stages. This record also features another favorite move of Zappa's: blending two different recordings to form one complete song. "Toads of the Short Forest" contains two different sections, the first recorded in the studio, and the second recorded live. They blend seamlessly, and you wouldn't know it unless you read the liner notes. "The Orange County Lumber Truck" contains portions of two different live recordings, which must have been the better sections of each performance.

If Burnt Weeny Sandwich was meant to challenge listeners, Weasels Ripped My Flesh certainly wasn't intended to cut them any breaks, either. A track like "Prelude to the Afternoon of a Sexually Aroused Gas Mask," which in its second half contains long portions of Roy Estrada howling, is sure to send the uninitiated running. Same with the title track, which is pure noise for two minutes. But, while there's also some of the Mothers' trademark hyper-technical instrumentals, there's also some really accessible material here.

"Directly from My Heart to You" is a Little Richard cover done in a straight-up blues style with great vocals from guest Don "Sugarcane" Harris. "My Guitar Wants to Kill Your Mama" (in its first released version here) is a catchy tune with uncharacteristically forceful lead vocals by Zappa. And "Oh No," previously heard as part of Lumpy Gravy (Zappa's first solo record that we'll get to later), is mega-catchy.

Again, would I recommend this to someone who hasn't already tried out The Mothers of Invention? Nah. But I love this record. If nothing else, the cover's great and the abstractness of the music will impress your friends. Or drive them away. Whatever.

"Didja Get Any Onya?"

The Mothers of Invention - Burnt Weeny Sandwich (LP, 1970)

Zappa disbanded the original Mothers of Invention in 1969, but still had enough unreleased material left over for a few additional albums. This is the first, a nine-track collection of mostly instrumental songs that capture the Mothers at arguably their tightest and most ambitious.

The album is bookended by two doo-wop-ish cover tunes, "WPLJ" (by the Four Deuces), and "Valarie" (by Jackie and the Starlites). It wasn't often that Zappa would whip out a cover song, but these two fit extremely well within the framework of the previous homages The Mothers made to the early genre of rock.

The remainder of the album consists of abstract instrumentals, ranging from the under-a-minute horn-blowing of "Igor's Boogie, Phase One" and "Igor's Boogie, Phase Two," to the impressively sprawling blues and jazz-tinged madness of the eighteen minute-plus "Little House I Used to Live In." In the end, it all basically blends into one big piece of music, and it's another Mothers album that is intimidating at first, but heavily rewarding once you realize what it entails and what you can expect.

"Holiday in Berlin, Full Blown" runs through complex arrangements for its first half, then turns into a distinctly-Zappa guitar solo towards the end. "Aybe Sea" is a sparse, piano-based number that ends up being one of the most beautiful songs The Mothers ever recorded. But, really, it's all about "Little House I Used to Live In." The song takes so many twists and turns that you can get lost in it. In a good way.

Another album that's probably not a good place to start with The Mothers, but a great place to go to if you're in the mood for some of their more complex (and well-recorded) early instrumentals. I like this one a lot.

"Holiday in Berlin, Full Blown" & "Aybe Sea"

Paul & Linda McCartney - Ram (LP, 1971)

Paul McCartney's early solo work is such a weird mix of different styles. It makes for some great, great records. Unfortunately, I've only got a few of 'em. I could have sworn I had his first solo album, but I must have been making that up. It's nowhere. The important thing is, I do have this one. And it's good.

Paul's always good for a solid opener, and needless to say, "Too Many People" - whether you believe it's a rock & roll diss track or not - is an awesome song. The springy acoustic intro, the rolling bass line (duh), the falsetto - it's all fantastic. "3 Legs" is a fun blues number, and "Ram On" is just wacky enough to work. Of course, it's all lead-up to the combo of "Dear Boy," "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey," and the sweet Beatle-ness of "Smile Away."

The second side keeps it coming: "Heart of the Country" is acoustic and a little bit fancier than it lets on. And Paul's vocals sound great. "Monkberry Moon Delight" isn't quite as nutty as its title, but the prominent background vocals make sure it stands out regardless. "Eat at Home" is a mix of classic rock and 50's rock, something that McCartney's great at. At this point you should be used to Linda singing in the background. Thought it may not prepare you for her vocals on "Long Haired Lady." I'll leave it at that. "The Back Seat of My Car" sounds like it belongs on a Wings album, though it's not quite that syrupy, I suppose.

What can I say? Paul's my favorite Beatle. Re-listening to an album like this doesn't dissuade me from that opinion. This record, especially, is when Paul was happy, but still holding onto some of his pissiness left over from the split of the Beatles. Great era for him.

"Heart of the Country"

Ray Manzarek - The Whole Thing Started with Rock & Roll Now it's Out of Control (LP, 1974)

This one slipped away from me. Sorry it's slightly out of order.

As I've made plenty clear in this blog, I was a huge Doors fan in my youth. When I found this terribly-titled record when I was about 15, I was excited. The driving force behind the Doors sound goes solo, only a few short years after the Doors disbanded! However, I had heard Manzarek sing lead on a few Doors tracks, and I wasn't immediately sold on the idea of listening to him croon for the duration of an LP. But, I thought there might be something of substance here.

And while I wasn't completely off base, I've definitely held onto this record more for its novelty than for its music. Manzarek is a damn fine keyboard player, and he makes that abundantly clear through this album's eight tracks. And while he's a decent songwriter, he just can't hack it vocally. His voice is deep and without much movement, which clashes with the fancy arrangements on a lot of these songs.

Fittingly, it's the instrumental tracks and extended jams on here that are the most likable. Still, this was a weird time for rock, and hearing Manzarek toss in traces of disco-ish slink and thin funk is just hard to accept. On top of that, the lyrics are a rough mix of social commentary and flower-power idealism that have not aged well.

Of course, he finds a way to get Jim Morrison in on the act, which would become a constant theme for the rest of his life. On the jazz-funked, cat-scratchy "I Wake Up Screaming," he gets a reverb-buried Patti Smith to recite one of Morrison's old poems. It doesn't work.

Still, there's something interesting about this album. I think I've always been fascinated by the way the surviving Doors carried on after Jim passed away. So this is as least good for that.

"The Whole Thing Started with Rock & Roll Now it's Out of Control"

Gordon Lightfoot - Cold on the Shoulder (LP, 1975)

After finding that I actually enjoyed Sundown, I decided to try my luck with other Lightfoot releases. I picked up four or five other records from various eras, but I've since parted with all of them except this one. Turns out I only like Gordon Lightfoot circa '74-'75.

This album picks up where Sundown left off, maintaining the same basic arrangements and not changing much of anything. While not quite as strong as its predecessor, I still enjoy this record. "Bend in the Water" is jumpy and fun, and though "Rainy Day People" is crazy corny, it's a nice little ditty. After that, though, the album really hits its stride. The title track is the best song on the whole LP, and "The Soul is the Rock," despite its heavy title and lyrics, is a light and likable track.

Things slide into a bit of a country way after that, and that's tough for me to handle. The second side is decent, but it gets a little watered down by ambitious arrangements attempting to make up for melodies that aren't too gripping.

It's a narrow window for me and Gord-o. Think I'm going to keep it that way.

Here's a fairly recent performance of "Rainy Day People."

Gordon Lightfoot - Sundown (LP, 1974)

Go ahead, laugh.

I was turned onto the song "Sundown" through karaoke years ago. I had never heard Gordon Lightfoot (or I probably had, but didn't realize it), but I thought the song was a damn fine one. I can't remember exactly when I picked this LP up; sometime in the last three years, I think. 50 cents. Figured I'd see what the rest of the record was like. I was pleasantly surprised.

Though the first side of this record contains some solid 70's wuss-folk, it's really Side Two where things get great. "The Watchman's Gone" is my favorite Lightfoot song, a rolling acoustic number (duh) with a killer melody. The title track's a winner as well, and when it's followed up by "Carefree Highway," it completes the trifecta of soft-rock sensitivity. "Carefree Highway" is AM radio personified, and I love it. "The List" is sappy-happy, but plenty nice, and the album closes with the reflective "Too Late for Prayin'," a ballad that brings some strings in to achieve the full effect. Pleasant.

I still have no idea why I like this. But if I'm in the mood, it gets me every time.

"Sundown"

John Lennon - Imagine (LP, 1971)

I tried to get into John Lennon when I was a teenager. I bought this record, and even had a book about it. And I found that Lennon's idealistic love-cures-all attitude just didn't work for me. Though I can see it now for what it is (a fine idea from someone whose life had no basis in the reality in which most people live), I still don't get much out of it.

I agree with what Lennon says in the song "Imagine." In theory, it's something worth looking at. It's a place to start, and I appreciate that. And it's a nice song. I also think "Jealous Guy" is a nice song. But for some reason, "All You Need is Love," which is arguably just as short-sighted and possibly less articulate, makes more sense to me. I think Lennon needed The Beatles. I like McCartney's solo stuff better than Lennon's, but heck, I think he needed The Beatles, too. When your ego has been boosted into the stars (and rightfully so, on both counts), your only hope is having someone you know around you to tell you what not to do. Someone who doesn't give a shit about your fame or your self-proclaimed genius. Ideally, dudes you've been in a band with since you were in short pants.

Not only did Lennon lose those dudes, he gained a girlfriend (wife, by this point) who seemed to be in the business of encouraging this self-obsessed malarkey. I don't deny that John Lennon was an incredible songwriter. I just wonder if people are afraid to admit that some of his solo stuff isn't quite as brilliant as they want it to be. Maybe I wasn't around when it came out and I don't understand the perspectives of those who regard it with such fondness. I remember thinking that "Imagine" was trite when I was 15. And I was highly impressionable in those days. Maybe it just wasn't ever gutsy enough for me.

The gutsiest song here (both musically and lyrically) is "How Do You Sleep?," which, while being arguably the best song on the record, is a bit sad to listen to. But, if you're into rock & roll diss tracks, it doesn't get much more big-time than that one.

But, come on: "Oh Yoko"? That's no good. Is it?

"Crippled Inside"

John Lennon - John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band (LP, 1970)

I'm going to tell you a secret: I don't like John Lennon's solo work as much as I feel like I should.

I own this record, and I have for quite some time. I don't remember when or where I got it, but I remember feeling an obligation to have a copy of it around. I still do. I did, however, recently part with my crap copy of Mind Games, as well as my copies of Milk and Honey and Double Fantasy. I hadn't listened to those last two in a decade, and the Mind Games LP was some Columbia House record club version, so that went straight to Goodwill. So, I'm down to this one and one other one, I think.

And it's not that I hate Lennon's solo work. It's just that I know if I listened to this record without ever having heard the Beatles, I wouldn't really give a shit about it. Songs like "Mother" sound self-obsessed and whiny to me, and the whole thing is reverb-happy and intentionally sparse. Why would I listen to "I Found Out" when I could listen to "Come Together"? Still, this album isn't far enough removed from the Beatles to really find Lennon losing his way, so there are, of course, some great songs here.

But, then he fucks them up with lyrics about Yoko. For some reason, hearing him complain about how he and Yoko can't get a fair shake in life ("Isolation") just rubs me the wrong way. In fact, hearing him sing about Yoko at all gets boring pretty quick. It's a shame, because "Well Well Well" is a sweet song. So is "Look at Me," but maybe that's because it sounds the most like a Beatles tune.

Believe me, I understand the brilliance of this record. And I do like it in moderation. I guess I'm just not a Lennon-solo kind of guy.

"Look at Me"

Led Zeppelin - In Through the Out Door (LP, 1979)

The last true Led Zeppelin album.

The picture I'm using is the cover of the LP I have. As you may know, there are six different cover variations which, if I was a Zep fanboy to a higher extreme, would force me to collect all of them. As it stands with Zep, I'm just happy to have the music.

The original LPs also came wrapped in brown paper, but I bought mine without it. It's not rare to find them with the paper cover intact, but it seems that more often than not, original copies are missing it. Fun fact I learned while looking farther into the album art on this one: The inner sleeves of this LP feature black and white comic-like art, and if you wet them, they become colored. I licked my thumb, wiped it on mine, and sure enough: the black streaked red. I had no idea. More info on this elaborate cover art here.

Listen, I'm by no means glad that John Bonham died a year after this album was released. And I'm a bit curious to have heard what the 80's would have held for Led Zeppelin. But if it was going to be anything like the schmaltz that's on this record, I'm happy the band was forced to call it quits. Of course I'm half-joking, but tracks like "All My Love" and "Fool in the Rain" are borderline embarrassing. (I actually have a soft spot for "Fool in the Rain," but it's for personal reasons. I still stand by the fact that it's a shitty song.)

Also, I take back what I said about "D'yer Mak'er" being the second worst Zeppelin song. I completely forgot about "Hot Dog" off this record. It's really neck and neck between that one and "Down By the Seaside." Wow, I think "Hot Dog" might actually be worse. It's rockabilly being played by Led fucking Zeppelin. There's no call for that.

Now, this record isn't completely worthless. "In the Evening" is a great opener, and a genuinely badass song. And "Southbound Suarez" is also fairly strong. But after those first two, it gets rough. Side Two opens with "Carouselambra," which is about eight minutes too long and the synths on it are shameful. "I'm Gonna Crawl" ends up being the last song on the last Zeppelin album while Bonham was still living, and though it's not a great tune, it seems fitting that the band gets back to the blues and leaves out the frills.

The word has always been that Jimmy Page was deep into heroin at this point (the video below shouldn't leave any question about that), and didn't take control of the band like he usually did. Apparently this gave Robert Plant the opportunity to freely wuss out to his heart's delight.

It's tough to hear Zeppelin not rock.

"In the Evening"

Led Zeppelin - The Song Remains the Same (2xLP, 1976)

This is easily the Led Zeppelin album I've listened to least. Well, this one and Coda are probably tied for that honor, actually. Regardless, if you're looking for a 26-minute version of "Dazed and Confused," this is the place to go.

This is the soundtrack to the concert film of the same name, which is equally self-indulgent and overflowing with wank. Zeppelin was arguably at their peak around this time, and they were taking full advantage. Though, surprisingly, the excessive drawing-out of the songs is not really the problem with this collection of "live" recordings. The problem has always been, at least for me, that these performances just aren't that great. I was actually really disappointed when I first heard this, and was much happier to stick to the studio recordings.

On top of that, the song choices don't take any risks, instead opting for "Stairway to Heaven," "Rock and Roll," "Whole Lotta Love," and some other casual-fan-pleasers. The highlights are "The Song Remains the Same" and "The Rain Song," which aren't perfect, but back-to-back they're solid. "No Quarter" is also pulled off nicely, but even that track is missing the depth of the studio version.

My claim to fame with this LP is that the second record in my set has Side Four labels on both sides. No doubt this has something to do with Aleister Crowley, working his black magic again.

"Rock and Roll"

Led Zeppelin - Presence (LP, 1976)

While Physical Graffiti would be Led Zeppelin's last truly great album (in my opinion), they still had some great songs in 'em. Presence is probably the strangest Zep album, in both content and album art. I enjoy the abstract art of the cover (centering around "The Object"), as I think it fits the scatterbrained vibe of the music quite well.

While this record is ultimately all about its centerpiece, the masterful "Nobody's Fault But Mine," the songs that surround it are strong as well. "Achilles Last Stand" is a complex rocker that changes speeds all over the place and features a bunch of different parts. At this point, the band makes it sound easy. One of the more underrated songs in their catalog. "For Your Life" holds a loose and thick groove, with a ragged Plant scratching his way through the phased vocals. A pretty sweet track. And yes, Stone Temple Pilots owe a lot to this track.

"Royal Orleans" is a decent stop-and-starter, but not one of the band's stronger tracks. Plant sounds especially spent on this one. Like I said, "Nobody's Fault But Mine," the opener on Side 2, is the jam on this one. It's another traditional blues jam that Zeppelin had their way with, and it's a thick bruiser, with Bonham pounding out the drum parts with complete fury. Any trace of Plant sounding tired isn't apparent, and Page's solo in the middle is clean and gets to the point.

The remainder of the record is a little disappointing after that. "Candy Store Rock" finds the band again trying to do a 50's rock thing, and the mix sort of fucks it. "Hots On for Nowhere" sounds like it should have been on Houses of the Holy, and it's another decent stop-starter, reminiscent of "The Ocean." "Tea for One" is basically "Since I've Been Loving You" part II, and I rarely ride it all the way out. Zep getting back to their roots. Fine for them; boring for me.

Not one of my favorite Led Zeppelin albums, but when people say it's underrated, I can see what they mean.

"Nobody's Fault But Mine"

Led Zeppelin - Physical Graffiti (2xLP, 1975)

There are a few different ways to look at this record. Some might see it as the greatest achievement of one of the world's greatest rock bands. Some might argue that it's bloated, particularly noting that it contains songs from various eras, thus rendering it not very cohesive. But pretty much everyone agrees it's good. I also claim that it's good, and tend to lean more towards greatest achievement than bloated.

There's a bit of a White Album argument to be had when it comes to Physical Graffiti. "If it were just pared down to one great album..." Well, fuck that. There are some rough points on this record, but if you tried to trim it down to two sides instead of four, you'd be leaving out some stellar songs, no matter how you moved shit around.

Speaking of moving shit around: as with most Zep records, my biggest complaint with this one is the sequencing. Now, when you've got two eight-minute-plus songs and one that clocks in just above eleven, you've got some considerations to make. And, again, who the hell am I to tell Jimmy Page how to arrange his precious compositions? Still, I've always felt this thing didn't flow exactly right. But, wah wah wah. As it stands, there are four sides to this beast, each with their own set of ups and downs.

Side One starts with "Custard Pie," which is one of my least favorite songs on this album, and always struck me as an odd opener. A blues-based rocker leaning on a thinly veiled oral sex metaphor seemed to be well-trodden Zeppelin ground. So, for me, it's a lackluster beginning. "The Rover" picks things up, showing the poppier side of the band that was emerging as the 70's hit middle age. But it's "In My Time of Dying" that is really the focal point of this first side. At 11:05, it's Zeppelin's longest studio track, and one that takes some patience and stamina to stick with. Not my favorite song, but I definitely recognize its importance, and even its greatness. It's just loooong.

Side Two is relatively flawless. "Houses of the Holy," a leftover from the album of the same name, is groove-ridden but poppy, and hearing Plant sing extremely catchy lines about Satan is priceless. "Trampled Under Foot" is Zep at their most classic rock (up to this point), with Plant straining to be heard over a crowded mass of guitar riffs and organ noodling. It's more undefined than other Led Zeppelin songs, but it ends up being a nice change. Then there's "Kashmir." If you told me that you thought "Kashmir" was the finest thing the band ever did, I wouldn't argue with you. It's an immense, timeless song that will be around longer than any of us. And I'm actually being sincere when I say that. I can understand not liking Led Zeppelin. I have a hard time understanding not liking "Kashmir."

Side Three is a weird one for me, as it contains both my favorite and least favorite Led Zeppelin songs of all time. But before those, the second half of Physical Graffiti gets going with "In the Light," which I've always loved. John Paul Jones does some eerie "No Quarter"-ish synth work at the beginning, and Plant's vocal parts are incredible throughout. Another huge song, and another testament to how ambitious the band was getting as songwriters. It's followed by "Bron-Yr-Aur," a nice little acoustic instrumental that is actually Zeppelin's shortest studio track, at just over two minutes. They've got something for everyone here, folks.

And maybe that was the idea behind "Down By the Seaside," which is my all-time least favorite Led Zeppelin song. I don't know if they were trying to crack soft rock radio, or just feeling generally wussy, but I even hated this song when I was a teenager, and that's saying a lot. I was willing to go to the wall for Zep on pretty much anything, but the warbly guitars and unbearably shitty lyrics on this one were (and are) just too much for me.

Conversely, if I had to pick just one Led Zeppelin song to spend the rest of my life with, I think I'd pick "Ten Years Gone." To me, it's their perfect song. The guitar parts are intricate but not overly so, and Plant's performance on this song is just untouchable. And when Bonham kicks in after the first verse...yowsa. It's as good as it gets for me.

Side Four is solid, though maybe not up to par with the rest of the album. "Night Flight" is a good song, with the band trying to do a 50's rock sort of thing with it. "The Wanton Song" rides a tight riff that widens out in the chorus, and the organ part makes it much better than it would be without it. "Boogie with Stu" is a loose jam, and should have been a b-side. "Black Country Woman" is an acoustic jam, and a damn good one. It should have, in my opinion, either been the first or last song on this album. Probably last. But what do I know. Instead, "Sick Again" ends the album, and it's probably the most ass-rock song in the Zep catalog. Squealy. It doesn't really suit the band well.

So, sort of an odd end to a monster of a record. Is this my favorite Led Zeppelin album? Yeah, probably. There's just so much to it. And if nothing else, the LP art is extraordinary, which I've always appreciated.

"Ten Years Gone"

Led Zeppelin - Houses of the Holy (LP, 1973)

At this point it's safe to say that no Led Zeppelin albums can be classified as underrated, but I've often felt that Houses of the Holy maybe doesn't get the respect it deserves. Sandwiched between the ubiquitous Zep IV and the magnum opus Physical Graffiti, this record is in a weird spot chronologically, but it shouldn't be overlooked. This is Zeppelin at their peak, and features the band finally resorting to some studio trickery to get their point across.

"The Song Remains the Same" is a favorite of mine, and the way that its speedy chaos segues right into the balladry of "The Rain Song" is just fantastic. Ah, "The Rain Song." If you're a young man and you've got feelings, this is a great tune to headphone out to in your room alone. I still think it's a great song. The lyrics are corny as heck, but like I said: Teenager. Room. Alone. Perfect.

"Over the Hills and Far Away" has strangely become a classic rock radio staple, and even if you don't recognize the title, you'd recognize the song. It's a good one. Really a solid first three songs here. "The Crunge" should have been a non-album b-side, but it doesn't seem like anyone was telling Jimmy Page shit at this point, so here it is. Thankfully, it's short.

I've always thought "Dancing Days" was a great song, too. Sweet guitar riff, some of Plant's better lyrics, and lots of little noodling. In fact, all of these songs sound a lot busier than any of the previous Zep offerings. Page was clearly tinkering.

"D'yer Mak'er" is the second-worst Led Zeppelin song ever (we'll get to the worst on the next record), and should not be listened to by anyone. It is the one thing that stops this record from being decisively stellar. It is reggae bullshit of the highest degree, and someone should have stopped Jimmy Page from putting it on the record. John Paul Jones, I'm looking in your direction.

The final two songs on the album make up for it. "No Quarter" is huge, and really one of the songs the band should always be remembered for (not that there's any lack of those). They step out in a whole new direction, and though the song is seven minutes long, it doesn't drag. A great one. "The Ocean" finishes things up, and though it's not my favorite song here, I still think the "Na-na-na" bits are awesome, and prevent the song from becoming too formulaic.

This record got a lot of play from me when I was 15. A lot. And I didn't used to hate "D'yer Mak'er" as much as I do now. It's been a long, gradual process of utter disgust, peaking with this blog entry. That'll learn 'em!

"No Quarter"

Led Zeppelin - Led Zeppelin IV (LP, 1971)

Well, here it is folks, THE GREATEST ROCK & ROLL RECORD OF ALL TIME.

Just kidding.

In fact, at the risk of sounding like a cool guy (I know, I know), this is actually one of my least favorite Led Zeppelin records. Maybe it's because I've heard it too many times, maybe it's because "Black Dog" just isn't my cup of tea. Maybe it's because "Stairway to Heaven" is idiocy personified. Maybe it's all of those things and more.

My introduction to Led Zeppelin (I probably should have mentioned this earlier) came via their box set. Which would have made me about 14, maybe 15. A little late, I know. A friend at school had it on cassette, and he lent me one tape at a time, probably in exchange for Doors cassettes. Since Jimmy Page is a nut, the box set is not sequenced chronologically. We'll get to that. Anyway, I heard "Stairway to Heaven" out of context, though it is surrounded by songs from roughly the same era. I realized, upon hearing it for the first time, that I had never heard the song before. I had heard people talk about it, and I assumed that I had heard it but just didn't know the title. Nope, didn't recognize it.

And what a letdown. It's some drawn-out mystical bullshit. In fact, this whole record has such a lame wizards & warriors vibe to it that it shouldn't really be enjoyed by anyone over 17. With the exception of "When the Levee Breaks," which rules, and is easily the best song on this record.

Of course, I still firmly believe that every teenage boy should own a copy of this. Because it is some cool shit when you're still discovering rock music, and still naive enough to believe that Zeppelin were some fame-shunning band of misteriosos who refused to release singles and lived in some fucking cottage and practiced black magic or whatever.

Speaking of, I heard if you get high enough while listening to Zeppelin IV, you can actually convince yourself that the Page/Coverdale collabo never happened. Is that true?

"When the Levee Breaks"