For Rob and Michele Reiner
I thought I would dedicate this to the above recently and tragically departed couple, as the subject of Becoming Led Zeppelin was surely an inspiration for Rob’s very own This Is Spinal Tap and its sequel, now his final work.
When people ask me the ultimate question of musical gender identity: “The Beatles or The Rolling Stones?”, I generally answer: “Led Zeppelin”. I mean, of course it’s partly to be a contrarian prick, for which I am known throughout the lands, but it’s true. My classic rock band of choice was, essentially, a supergroup of hardworking session musicians, bored of the daily grind in the muzak studio, who all wanted to try something more exciting.
We’ve all been there.
I’m not sure how many documentaries I’ve seen about Led Zeppelin, but it’s probably a lot. This one really didn’t provide me with anything new in terms of backstory, but what it does have that no other Led Zeppelin documentary has had before, is bringing Jimmy Page, Robert Plant, John Paul Jones, and John Bonham out of the shadows and finally having them give their version of events. Which, I must say, makes a nice change from the usual smug music journalists and historians.
I don’t know why I just called them “smug”, but it felt apt. I’m sure they’re all lovely people.
The second half of Becoming Led Zeppelin sags somewhat, due to its heavy reliance on concert footage and, in some cases, playing certain songs in full. Like a video game that relies heavily on “cutscenes”, you start to forget why you sat down in the first place, and so drift off into thought. Well, at least I did. This approach to the final hour means things just sort of fizzle out, with the story of the band ending on a high - their Albert Hall concert - rather than delving into the notorious days of excess and tragedy. Actually, you could quite easily compare this to Supersonic, the documentary following Oasis’ rise and… well, that’s it.
I guess we’ve all heard about the negative stuff, which we can all do without at this stage in our lives.
Page is always a delight to listen to, as he’s such an adorable nerd. He’s certainly not what you’d expect from one of the fathers of hard rock. I could listen to him talk about mic placement and cross-fades all damn day. It’s also nice to finally hear him explain his famous aversion to releasing singles, which makes perfect sense to me now. Sort of. Plant always makes me want to give him a hug, as there’s a contradictory quietness to him that I find heartbreaking. I did want to learn more about his homeless days, having faced the same myself 15-years-ago, but he is noticeably brief on the subject. It’s a dark place to delve into, so I can understand his reticence to elaborate. John Paul Jones is a sweetie. Very posh, although they all are really. It’s heartwarming to hear him talk about his father and how proud the man was of him. You can tell that that has meant more to him than fame and fortune combined. Bless. But, hey, isn’t our parents’ pride what we all want? John Bonham’s echoes from the past are very touching. He sounds like an unpretentious chap. I assume all drummers are, given their profession. Being a boozer myself, I can’t help but sympathise with whatever pain drove him to such extremes. It can happen to the best of us. What a legacy he left though! So nobody can be too judgemental and dismissive of him for his fondness for the odd slurp.
Led Zeppelin and their Albert Hall concert inspired me to pick up guitar again in my mid-20s. I’d learned formally as a kid, but subsequently gave up and forgot everything I’d been taught after my interest failed. I could actually read sheet music too, so you can imagine how much I regret turning my back on it. Oh well, doing bugger-all else seemed like a good idea at the time.
The story of Led Zeppelin isn’t particularly inspirational, given each members’ relative success already by the time they got together, but this documentary is a quaint trip down memory lane for everyone involved and everyone watching. Plus, witnessing Page reclining on his throne in his castle is a true reminder of how fucking massive Led Zeppelin were and are and will always be.
I would say this should act as a good primer for aspiring sound engineers, as there are so few documentaries focussing on that side of the music industry. Which is a shame. There’s only so much concert and tour footage I can take, quite frankly.
I didn’t want to call this a “film review”, as I simply wasn’t in the mood to be so formal. And anything to do with music should be something that reflects your mood. I’m not always one for obligation, so my attitude this morning should come as no surprise.
Well, I feel as though I’ve said enough. I seem to be losing my battle with alcohol at the moment, with today being a slight reprieve, so I’m not sure when I’ll write coherently again. I’m just finding words too devastating to impart right now, as melodramatic as that sounds. There is a chance I think too much about things and wish to drown out the agonising noise, although this film has given me pause for thought on my lifestyle.
Peace and love and good mental health.
Do stay in touch, darlings.
Toodles!
