#led zeppelin 1

[art--me]

1969- Led Zeppelin I, Dazed and Confused, Poster Prints, #RobertPlant #JimmyPage #JohnBonham #JohnPaulJones

Led Zeppelin I, Artwork Prints - "Dazed and Confused"

[angel-cheef]

1969- Led Zeppelin I, Good Times Bad Times, Art Prints

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[cutie-bob]

1969- Led Zeppelin I, Babe I'm Gonna Leave You, Art Prints #RobertPlant #JimmyPage #JohnBonham #JohnPaulJones

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[chica-pie]

1969- Led Zeppelin I, Good Times Bad Times, Download, 100+ High Resolution Images, #RobertPlant #JimmyPage #JohnBonham #JohnPaulJones

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[baby-carlson]

1969- Led Zeppelin I, Good Times Bad Times, Poster Prints.

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[queenie-ofthe-void]

“Led Zeppelin? Never heard of them,” Steve lies, like a liar. Of course he’s heard of them, thinks maybe Hop’s mentioned them before. Doesn’t really know the band well, and probably definitely couldn’t name a song. But the comment serves its purpose, and the trap is set.

Eddie calls it the Zep Campaign. Every day they’ll listen to one album, and Steve will pick his favorite song from each. Eight days for eight albums. On the last day, they’ll narrow it down to one song to rule them all– because apparently even Led Zeppelin likes the Mordor books Dustin doesn’t shut up about. 

Each day, Steve struggles to pick a favorite. Day four isn’t bad– doesn’t mind a song that is actually called Rock and Roll, which is just a lazy title in his opinion– but they’re only half way through and the songs are all starting to sound the same. An endless stream of too-fast guitar melodies and weird, wobbly sounds he’s sure he’s never heard before. The vocals are his favorite part, but the lyrics are vague and confusing.

Long story short, he’s not a fan.

But this growing thing between him and this ridiculous metalhead is new, fragile. So if it’s important to Eddie, it’s important to Steve. 

“Stevie, we really don’t have to keep doing this,” Eddie concedes. It’s day eight, the final album, and he thinks even Eddie might be desperate to listen to something different. “You’ve listened to every other album and honestly this one is the worst. They were all on drugs, and this isn’t even their sound ya know? Like it’s not even real metal.”

And honestly, Steve does know. He’s been listening to this band for eight days and yeah, all the songs sound the same. But these ones are different. Softer. He’s made it this far, and he’s nothing if not persistent for the people he loves.

Sprawled out on the floor next to the boy he likes, passing a fading joint back and forth, he thinks he can suffer a bit longer. 

“No Eds come on, we’re halfway through anyways. Just flip it over and we’ll smoke while we finish.” Eddie huffs a sigh, but Steve can see the slight uptick of his lips, reminding him of why he’s doing this. He flips the record and crawls back, presses himself flush up against Steve’s side.

The next song is long, too long to keep his attention. They burn down their joint and Steve leans heavily onto Eddie’s open chest. He gets lost staring at the vinyl art. A guy dressed in a fancy white suit sits alone in a dive bar, the only splash of color against a dull background. The bartender looks gruff, like the rest of the bar, making the man stand out even more. He wonders if that’s how he looks posted up at the Hideout during Eddie’s shows. Wonders if he looks just as out of place in Eddie’s life as this man does, even though he looks comfortable there too. 

Eddie shifts his arms around Steve, bringing him back to the present. The song has changed and Steve feels the slow melody wash over him.

“Wait,” Steve cries out, flailing up and out of Eddie’s arms as he registers the new song. It’s soft with a steady beat. It’s got synth-- the sound Eddie told him he likes in pop music. This song isn’t loud and chaotic like the rest. The voice is soothing and the lyrics are mostly simple enough. It’s different, and he can’t believe it but–

All of my love, all of my love

all of my love to you, oh

“This one. I like this song. Like actually like it.”

Eddie sits up and stares at him. He can see the dramatic shock and annoyance on Eddie’s face. But it’s doing nothing to hide his broad smile and shining eyes. 

“Steven. Stevie. Baby, sweetheart, this absolutely cannot be your favorite Zeppelin song. Out of all the songs on all the albums and all the hours of poetic melodies I’ve forced upon you, you choose the most non-Zep Zeppelin song.” Steve laughs sweetly as he watches Eddie fail to keep the glee out of his supposedly annoyed voice.

The cup is raised, the toast is made yet again

One voice is clear above the din

“This song isn’t even metall!" Eddie screeches. He rants and raves, waiving his arms as he regales Steve with all of the reasons he should absolutely not like this one particular song. He's shining with happiness, dial turned up to a hundred and it's all aimed at Steve. He can't help but to gaze back fondly, enraptured in the adorably obnoxious spectacle.

"It’s all synth, almost no guitar because Page didn’t even write this one! He wrote all of them except two songs, Stevie, and of course that’s the one you chose. No one who knows good music even likes this album. It’s not even metal music and honestly I almost didn’t show it to you, that’s how bad it is!” They're both giggling, leaning falling slowly into the other's space. Facing one another, their feet tangled together, Steve twists and pulls on Eddie's rings. Just to touch.

“Well, maybe that’s why I like it,” Steve snarks, taking his hand. “Plus it’s a love song.” Daring to reach out.

All of my love, all of my love, yes

All of my love to you

Eddie’s smile dims a bit, softens at the edges as he grows serious. “It’s not a love song Stevie, not like that.” He’s looking at Steve but he isn’t. Looking past him into the back of his thoughts. “The lead singer, he wrote it for his son. His kid died of some kind of bad illness while he was on tour. Didn’t make it back in time.”

He pauses, and Steve waits. Knows Eddie has more to say, hoping his patience will pay off. Eddie’s sight refocuses and he heaves a heavy sigh. His eyes glisten as they lock onto Steve.  

“My mom used to sing it all the time. While she was cooking, or putting me to bed, or pulling weeds in the garden. She’d sing it constantly. Hell, she didn’t even know all the words, but she’d still try and sing the interludes– ya know, the music between the lyrics.” He laughs lightly, a stray tear just barely hanging on. Steve tightens his grip around Eddie’s hands and presses a kiss to his knuckles. A silent sign of gentle support and encouragement. 

“Sounds like a love song to me,” Steve whispers. Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to his forehead and pulls Eddie into a tight hug. 

All of my love, all of my love, to you now

“A love song just for you, from both of us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've always headcanoned that Eddie loves Led Zeppelin, because he plays guitar and loves metal and reads Lord of the Rings so of course he would.

[desertangels70s]

💖happy birthday to this bad bitch💖

[jimmys-zeppelin]

led zeppelin recording their second album at a&m studios in los angeles, california — 1969

[balladofhollisbrown]

led zeppelin performing "babe i'm gonna leave you" live on danmarks radio, 1969.

[art--me]

1969- Led Zeppelin I, You Shook Me, #RobertPlant #JimmyPage #JohnBonham #JohnPaulJones

Led Zeppelin I, Artwork Prints

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

𝔏𝔢𝔡 ℨ𝔢𝔭𝔭𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔫 - ℑ𝔪𝔪𝔦𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔖𝔬𝔫𝔤

[lemongrablothbrok]

Hehe hey remember that brief period in time when Mike Nesmith (The Monkees' lead guitarist and resident asshole) looked almost identical to Jimmy Page (who was not yet but would be Led Zeppelin's lead guitarist and resident asshole. I mean, a bigger asshole than the other members. Which I can't really say for The Yardbirds which was his band at the time, lest we forget Eric Clapton, who is/was at least as much of an asshole as Page, is also an alumnus of The Yardbirds. Anyway)? Pepperidge Farm remembers...

Anyway, a few key differences between these two control freak stick figures of undeniable talent but dubious likeability: Mike Nesmith could actually drive (and with proficiency) a car as well as a motorcycle (as well as -- I believe -- an airplane?) and punch a hole clear through drywall (true story), whereas Mister Black Magick on the other hand didn't (and still doesn't? Not sure?) have a driver's license, was not reasonably safe on a motorcycle even as a passenger (true story), and any attempt to do bare-knuckled physical damage to the structural integrity of a building would probably result in Jimmy looking like this:

Thank you for coming to my "How to Tell the Difference Between the Lanky Raven Haired Lead Guitarist Douchebags in lemongrablothbrok's Favorite Late '60s/early '70s Pop/Rock Quartets Where There's Two Capricorns and One is Some Cute Lil Guy Named Jones and the Other One is This Bitch Right Here" TED Talk. I forget why I did it in the first place, I think I was bored. And because comparing and contrasting arbitrary shit is my jam.

Also a couple months ago I had this dream that Led Zeppelin had their own TV show like The Monkees except it was them. Which would have been fucking wild. I blame those charmingly domestic indoor shots from the Chateau Marmont photoshoot for planting such zany ideas in my subconscious.

[rastronomicals]

7:56 AM EDT April 15, 2024:

Led Zeppelin - "Jennings Farm Blues Takes 1 - 11" From the bootleg The Lost Sessions Volume 6

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

Early versions of "Bron-Y-Aur Stomp" in all their glory and with all their fuckups intact. Recorded at Olympic Studios, London, November 1969

[jonesyjonesyjonesy]

a dad a dad a dad a dad a dad a dad on a stool a dad