A grounded sound, but an audacious record.
Robert Plant: lead vocals
Jimmy Page: guitar, steel guitar, banjo, dulcimer
John Paul Jones: bass, mandolin, Hammond organ, Moog synthesizer
John Bonham: drums, percussion
Produced by Jimmy Page, engineered by Andy Johns and Terry Manning
Author’s Note: This post corresponds to the Led Zeppelin III redux episode of Vinyl Monday, originally posted 11/11/2024. Save for audio/editing jokes that cannot be included in a text format, this is a faithful adaptation of the review chapter. To watch the full episode, scroll to the bottom of this post or visit my YouTube channel here.
“I keep nursing this love-hate attitude towards Led Zeppelin. Partly from genuine interest and mostly indefensible hopes, in part from the conviction that nobody that crass could be all that bad, I turn to each fresh album expecting – what?”
(quoted from: Lester Bangs, “Led Zeppelin III” Rolling Stone Magazine, 11/26/1970)
While audiences took to Zeppelin like ducks to water, it took critics a little more time. In fact, I’d go as far as to say critics knocked Led Zeppelin simply for being Led Zeppelin. It forced the band into retreat – first at Bron-Yr-Aur, later the famed Headley Grange – and put every move they made under scrutiny. When I think of the Led Zeppelin III era, I think of journalists in New York prodding Robert Plant and Jimmy Page for their thoughts on Jimi Hendrix’s recent passing. Crass these lads were not; they handled the situation like champs.
High-society women threatened to sue over their name. Old men turned up to their gigs with shotguns because they had long hair. There’s a lot about Led Zeppelin that can’t be defended today (plagiarism, baby groupies, etc.) But for these guys, heading into the '70s seemed just existing was like trying to sprint through mud. (Just wait until the quicksand comes in ’77, boys. You’ll be nostalgic for these days then.) The minor incidents and lawsuits have been forgotten in favor of their bigger ones. But we remember the critical battering this band endured if for nothing but the question: how did so many critics get it so wrong? In music publications of their time, the first three Zeppelin albums sank like...well...a lead balloon. Again, while we may forget exactly what these critics said, the evidence remains. Why else would the biggest band in the world opt out of putting their name on their next two records? They knew the hype, and they had to beat it.
Even the greats succumbed to reviewing the hype over the music. Lester Bangs happened to write Rolling Stone’s review of ZIII, and admitted his bias outright. But the guy isn’t completely infallible; no critic is. In in a turn that made me chuckle, he describes a complete and utter loudness that snuffs out any chance for nuance. “I’ve never made a Zep show, but friends (most of them the type, admittedly, who will listen to anything so long’s it’s loud and they’re destroyed) describe a thunderous, near-undifferentiated tidal wave of sound that doesn’t engross but envelops to snuff any possible distraction.”
My buddy my guy, you’re a known Stooges fan!
Though not his best work, I’m singling out Les’s take on Zeppelin III because, in some backwards way, he gotLed Zeppelin the entity right. He acknowledged that, for better or for worse, Led Zeppelin was the ’70s. They’re gonna author how the 70s go for rock-and-roll. And he was right, they did.
“It doesn’t challenge anybody’s intelligence or sensibilities, relying instead on a pat visceral impact that will insure absolute stardom for many moons to come.” You have no idea how many moons, Les.
Why did this critic-to-audience dissonance happen? Part of it was the hype, no doubt. But I saw a Reddit comment of all things that reframed my perspective: “Lester Bangs, along with Ben Fong-Torres and other Rolling Stone writers of the early 1970s, epitomized the type of writer who wanted rock-and-roll to be important. Kind of in the same way that writers would treat the great jazz musicians of the 1950s.”
In trying to legitimize music that was largely looked down upon as crass, low-brow, or “kids stuff” in these guys’ adolescence, they sought stuff that meant something. See equal halves critical darling and punching bag Bob Dylan. In their pursuit of establishing legitimacy for this young genre, these critics adopted the very attitude they sought to destroy. It’s the cycle of rock criticism, baby.
How did Zeppelin feel about this pushback? Reading Brad Tolinski's Light and Shade, I was struck by the fuck-you attitude they operated with. When asked about the initial critical response of ZIII, Jimmy said: “…we were so far ahead that it was very difficult for reviewers to know what the hell we were doing...Very rarely could they get the plot of what was going on.” (Brad Tolinski, Light and Shade: Conversations with Jimmy Page, 2012) Audacious as it seems, Jimmy has a point. The massive hype surrounding this band clouded a lot of critics’ capacity to properly review their stuff. Even the greats.
Maybe the hype lingers for me, too. It’s been a long time since I sat down and listened to a Led Zeppelin album all the way through. Due in part to the nature of Vinyl Monday, it’ll months – or in this group’s case, even years – until I circle back to one artist or group. It’s also due in part to my “Zeppelin phase” being years behind me. My taste has evolved so much in the years I’ve been doing this. Aside from a few select songs, “Ten Years Gone” and “The Rain Song” and the like, I don’t find myself listening to Zeppelin the way I used to.
I will say this now: it was very smart for Zeppelin to move away from blues rock and towards folk rock with this release. They played it fast and loose with song credits on Led Zeppelin (I) and II – I’m not as lenient with that as I once was.
Even still, it’s been fun to revisit III this week. It transports me back to that time when I lived and died by the first four albums and had as many Zeppelin shirts on rotation. It was to the degree at which one of my nicknames in college was Plantie! And III was my first Zeppelin album. Kind of an odd place to start with this, Houses of the Holy, and Physical Graffiti!
Last week, I pointed out a quality all great albums should have: a killer three to four-song run to start. The White Album has “Back In The USSR”/”Dear Prudence”/”Glass Onion;” Deja Vu has “Carry On”/“Teach Your Children”/”Almost Cut My Hair”/”Helpless;” American Beauty has “Box of Rain”/ Friend of the Devil”/“Sugar Magnolia”/“Operator.” Ladies and gentlemen, Lee Zeppelin III has a four-song run.
Immigrant Song is, in a lot of ways, Zeppelin’s mission statement: lyrics mentioning European mythology and/or fantasy literature, an unshakeable rhythm section, a deceptively simple riff (listen for that modified block G “mystery chord” Jimmy throws in,) and Robert Plant...well...being Robert Plant.
I’d never know the chorus is meant to be “On we sweep with threshing oar, our only goal will be the western shore”unless I sought it out. This is a “hitting the notes” over “singing the words” situation, and I don’t blame him! Robert Plant was in top form in 1970 and 1971. Before this he could be shrill, after this he sounded thin. This is Goldilocks’s Goldilocks song and the shriek of the bloodthirsty conqueror that was only better live.
You can’t stop this thing. It’s the little things that count; like the sweeping reverb coming into the verses, and the tape hisses. “Immigrant Song” is so special for highlighting John Paul Jones’s unique place in the band. I think of Led Zeppelin as a cup game; swapping each individual part around and seeing where the ball ends up. Through the verses, the bass links up with guitar and drums, playing the same straight thing. It’s like a beast locking its jaw down and twisting its head. But through the...chorus? (Man, this song’s structure is odd.) JPJ frees himself, playing these ascending lines. It raises up the whole song to fall back into the central motif.
For all of the above reason, opening III with “Immigrant Song” a perfect bait-and-switch.
One of this album’s most potent choices is following “Immigrant Song” with “Friends.” The yin and yang of the record if you will. “Immigrant Song;” the trademark electric Zeppelin thing, loosely inspired by Link Wray’s “Rumble.” And Friends, the Middle Eastern/Indian-inspired tune with a drone underneath. Indian-inspired sounds were in Zeppelin’s DNA. See the Yardbirds-era tune “White Summer,” which became “Black Mountainside.” But this one seems...different. This darker style suits Jimmy and the whacky chords he favored in this time. JPJ’s string arrangement is a sophistication we hadn’t yet seen from the band. Though strings and string sounds appear on the next couple LPs, we don’t hear them do something quite like this again until “In The Light.” “Friends” begins more wonky tape stuff and studio chatter. Very casual – uncharacteristic of Zeppelin. These elements make the song stick out like a broken bone. A song about how necessary human connection becomes unsettling. Plant howling at the end doesn’t make it comforting either! I think that’s why other fans aren’t crazy about “Friends,” and why I am crazy about it.
I think of “Friends” and “Celebration Day” as weird, unsettling sisters. “Friends” is pretty-weird. “Celebration Day” stares into your windows at night.
Celebration Day is fuckin weird, but I love it. It never settles into anything comfortably; there is no home base. The bass and guitar swing back and forth constantly like a carnival hammer ride, to the point of motion sickness. Jimmy’s solo is forced into this motion. It’s an odd chord change to make. It has the effect of an undue or premature celebration amidst a time of trouble. That much is frighteningly relevant, given world events that have taken place since my last review.
A better word for “Celebration Day’”s motion would be oscillation. That’s what we hear at the end of “Friends” moving into this song; a synth line that curves like a snake. The lyrics are pretty cryptic; unusually so for a band that loved dirty double-entendres and oohs and babys typical of the blues tradition.“She hears them talk of new waystoprotect the home she lives in/Then she wonders what it’s all aboutwhenthey break down the door. Her name is Brown or White or Black,you know her very well/You hear her cries of mercyasthe winners toll the bell.”Later,“Heading for your destination, but the price you pay to nowhere has increased a dollar more.”I can’t tell you exactly whatthismeans –because I don’t know. ButI can tell you whatever it is, it’sdark and paranoid. The optimism of the happy hippie ’60s is so gone.
III’s four-song run concludes with one of the best cuts of Zeppelin’s entire discography, second only to “Achilles’ Last Stand”: Since I’ve Been Loving You.
After such an assertive first three tracks – “Immigrant Song” is bossy, “Friends” is exotic, “Celebration Day”is jarring – “Since I’ve Been Loving You” is striking for how intimate it begins. The room this was recorded in must’ve been quite small; Jimmy’s amp is rattling Bonzo’s kick drum. Usually you’d put blankets in the bottom of the drum to prevent that. But this was John Bonham in 1970, you couldn’t tell that man shit. (Speaking of the bass drum: apparently there’s a squeaky pedal on this recording that no one caught until it was too late. I can’t hear it. Can you?)
We’ve talked ad nauseam about Bonzo’s drumming on “Since I’ve Been Loving You.” Without a doubt, it’s his greatest moment. The way he slightly drags the rhythm before Jimmy’s frenetic entrance is addicting. It’s never not thrilling.
But I can tell you why it’s great: it’s light for him, but heavy for any other drummer. It’s another Goldilocks moment. The host of the Big Fat Five podcast (highly recommend to any drum nerd) said any other guy might’ve done the super spacey Nick Mason thing in the beginning of this song. But Bonzo thuds along, in even the soft moments. It gives the song its spine and establishes its mood. Making you laugh with dread.
I’ve mentioned the symbiotic relationship between Plantie and Roger Daltrey a few times in the past. Robert Plant could sing “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” but Roger Daltrey could not sing “Since I’ve Been Loving You.”Both had the vocal chops, but Rog was more theatrical. That’s why he rocked Tommy. Ostentatious as his stylings were, Plant was somehow grounded. He covers a whole spectrum of emotion this song: snark when he mutters “I don’t think that’s fair,” suspicion, accusation, hopeless bargaining, “Cause I love you baby how I love you darling how I love you baby my beloved little girl,” and his anguished cry that comes right from the soul. It’s all believable.
Top to bottom, this song sounds like being blindsided. I don’t know how many of you have found out you’ve been cheated on, but this song builds exactly; from the gut feeling to the realization and confrontation.. This guitar line is hung in suspension, feels like putting all the pieces together in your head and everything makes sense now and oh god you don’t want it to be true but it is.
God, “Since I’ve Been Loving You" is searing. Lightning in a bottle.
Les called “Celebration Day” and Out On the Tiles “production-line Zep churners that no fan could fault and no one else could even hear without an effort.” (Lester Bangs, “Led Zeppelin III” Rolling Stone Magazine, 11/26/1970) That’s an odd way to describe something as a deep cut, but okay.
While I disagree with the former – “Celebration Day” is anything but a typical Zep churner – I regret to inform you all my feelings towards “Out On the Tiles” have changed since my original review. It’s a good rocker. It’s solid. Good riff. Good feel. Upbeat. But compared to the other four songs occupying this side of the record, it’s just okay. “Out On the Tiles” has big shoes to fill. “Since I’ve Been Loving You” is a tough act to follow. But “Tiles” doesn’t quite get there.
Side 2 opens lukewarm, with folksy Gallows Pole. I believe this is the first time we hear mandolin on a Zeppelin record? I could be wrong, I might’ve missed something on Led Zeppelin or II. I won’t spend too much time on “Gallows Pole,” as there are better folk-inspired cuts on the record. The guys also just flat-out didn’t credit Ledbelly for this arrangement of the song. But the song’s inclusion is a fitting ode to III’s traditional American and English roots.
“What do you love about music?” “To begin with...everything.” Talk about a needle drop.
Tangerine. Tangerine, tangerine, you are utterly beguiling. It always had beautiful bones: see the Yardbirds’ “Knowing That I’m Losing You.”
Delightfully hokey as it is, this arrangement would just be too done-up for what this album seeks to do, and for where this group excelled. I love that the false start was left in. It’s appropriately relaxed and decidedly un-done. Listen to the soft whisper to count in before the prettiest twelve-string. I can’t help but notice that “Tangerine” keeps the medieval twinge its mother had. More subdued this time; less baroque pop and more pastoral.
Jimmy’s revised lyrics are a much better fit as well. You have to admit: “Knowing That I’m Losing You” is quite wordy. “We’re falling from a tree, the time it takes to see/The rising of the sun, the time it takes to run” just doesn’t have the same ring to it. There’s space between the lines with, “Tangerine, tangerine, living reflection of a dream/I was her love, she was my queen, and now a thousand years between…” It’s like he’s fallen hopelessly in love with a woman from another time.
Given what Jimmy’s current girlfriend looks like, I wouldn’t put time travel past him! ()
There are many light, airy elements to “Tangerine”: the steel guitar and dulcimer that Jerry Garcia and Joni Mitchell respectively slingshot into rock-and-roll, layering of glittery 12-string guitar, JPJ playing a sparse impressionistic bass part, and Bonzo favoring the cymbal. And oh my god this harmony vocal. Where did this come from? It’s stunning! The “Since I’ve Been Loving You” guitar solo is hailed as the best on III, but I disagree. Like its lyrics of longing for a lost love, the “Tangerine” solo does just enough. It’s deliberate and all about note choice; unusual for Jimmy’s famously sloppy technique.
Another very potent sequencing choice was made for side two of III; with That’s The Way following “Tangerine.” A lot of this album is about bargaining and longing. Bargaining and grieving an unfaithful lover, yearning for lost love. The apparent male yearning to be a Viking. “That’s The Way” mourns innocence. A little boy’s mother tells him he can’t play with his friend no more. He’s from “the darker side of town,” though they’re next-door neighbors. To me, it sounds like this kid is a hippie and our narrator comes from a straight family. His friend lets his hair hang down, sheds tears over fishes laying in dirty water dying, and kisses tiny flowers. 1969 was a rough year for the hippies; so much so that the movement just couldn’t survive it. After the Tate-LaBianca murders, the general public turned their backs on the hippies. In response, they cut their hair and got big-boy jobs. Or were sent to war. I imagine they mourned what could’ve been, just as we are now.
“That’s The Way” has the prettiest guitar part on the album. You can almost feel it slipping through your fingers as it swims around your head. I agree with the creative decision for Bonzo to sit in on “Tangerine” and not this, this is a strings-heavy song. I love the reverse echo on the acoustic guitar underneath the mandolin. One motion over another; like it's being pulled apart. Bonzo puts the rock on the paper. “That’s The Way” sets the pages free to fly.
Bron-Y-Aur Stomp is playful, but otherwise forgettable. I routinely forget it follows “That’s The Way.” To be honest, writing about it now I still can’t really remember what it sounds like. And I’ve been listening to III for two weeks to write this review! Am I off-base in thinking this song could be a predecessor to Stomp Clap Hey rock? Oh boy, the bum-tss bum-tss drum gets grating.
And then there’s “Hats Off to Roy Harper.” The bottle neck slide on crack.
“Hats Off” is such a fuck-you album closer. Considering this number, the guys’ “fuck-you, you guys just don’t Get It!” attitude makes slightly more sense. This song is the most authentic Delta blues sounding thing they ever did, but it’s an anemic homage. And still the worst Led Zeppelin song.
A little over a year before this album was released, Jimmy Page said to Melody Maker:
“I can’t see this group ever getting stale, because new ideas are coming up all the time. The new album is so different from the first, and the next one will probably be just as different again.” (Richard Williams, “Led Zeppelin and How They Made 37,000 Dollars In One Night” Melody Maker, 9/13/1969)
Led Zeppelin III was a daring album. There are new elements, like an appreciation for folk music. But it’s not so much a sonic pivot as it is an elaboration upon things that were always there. The acoustic sound, a quicknod to the east. Their lyricism has improved leaps and bounds. The guys are tackling more mature topics, and expressing deeper emotion more articulately than before. Zeppelin haven’t lost their edge, but rather added dimension to it. One could say they grew up a bit. This kind of growth is remarkable considering how green this band was. They’d been together all of 2 years at this point?
But with every stretch, there are shortcomings. Growing means growing pains. This happened again with Houses of the Holy coming in between IV and Physical Graffiti, when Robert Plant had to get used to his new voice. On III, these guys had to find their footing in a new decade. Of course they tried things that didn’t work. Their focus wavered through side 2, and it does blemish the quality of the overall record.
No doubt, III a mixed bag. It bears some of Zeppelin’s most beautiful songs – and its ugliest sounds. But itwas a necessary evolution for this band to make to secure their place in the 1970s; the decade they’d soon dominate. It’s a grounded sound, but an audacious record. These guys could cradle a mandolin as soon as they could liken themselves to gods!
You know what they say: in order to achieve something, you first have to visualize yourself doing it. The law of manifestation. This album is a unique manifestation; with grit, polish, brawn and beauty. I maintain that Led Zeppelin III is steeply underrated.
Personal favorites: “Friends,” “Celebration Day,” “Since I’ve Been Loving You,” “Tangerine,” “That’s The Way”
– AD ☆
Watch the full episode above!