Have a listen. Sorry there’s no Zeppelin concert footage, but the song (as it turns out) was difficult to reproduce live and thus rarely performed on stage.
Now you understand what I’m talking about when I say it’s stuck with me: the pounding drums of John Bonham, a wailing harmonica and Robert Plant, and the sliding guitar courtesy of Jimmy Page. An absolutely heavy sound, right? I love it. And not only is this the closing song to an amazing album (Led Zeppelin IV—which also includes “Rock and Roll,” Black Dog,” and the little-known “Stairway to Heaven”), as well as perhaps the epitome of Zeppelin’s sound, but “When the Levee Breaks” represents the apogee of British blues music—the appropriation of American blues songs and aesthetics popular among British rockers such as Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck, and Led Zeppelin. That’s just my (rather uneducated) opinion. But I will say that not only does this song carry an authentic depth and groove (if not sincere pain), but the lyrics are taken from an actual Delta blues song written after the Great Mississippi Flood of 1927. (Check out Wikipedia for information on the original song and a description of Zeppelin’s incredible and pioneering production techniques.) Sure, a bunch of white, English rock stars appropriating a sorrowful song composed in the wake of a defining tragedy—for the South, for southern blacks, and for blues music—may strike some as strange and perhaps even inappropriate. But, in doing so, Led Zeppelin revived and continued a traditional aesthetic, the blues—the musical genre at the very root of the rock music they created and dominated.
And the fascination with the blues continues to this day in America. Some of my favorite bands tap into the blues aesthetic; again, hearkening to their predecessors while further developing the sound (despite the many aspects of the blues already incorporated into rock & roll). First, there’s the White Stripes, of course. Basically, every time I attempt to write a song—whether it’s the lyrics, or the guitar part, or if I’m just humming to myself—I want it to sound like a White Stripes song. Jack and Meg White may be eccentric, and not every song a winner, but they are dedicated to running the guitar/drum Detroit blues-thing into the ground.
And speaking of modern blues-rock duos, I’ve also gotten into the Black Keys, which has created its own heavy, blues-inspired sound. However, the song of theirs stuck in my head this week doesn’t really operate in that mode. But, I think you’ll enjoy “Everlasting Light” all the same. Good, isn’t it? They have something like five albums that I’ve only just barely begun to acquaint myself with.
And this brings me to two other guitar/drum duos I’ve only recently discovered/experienced live: Wye Oak and Japandroids. Named after the late great oak tree that once lived on the Eastern Shore, Wye Oak hails from Baltimore and its unique music scene. Although I don’t have any of their songs, and thus no great insights into their music, I did see them live this summer:
Once again, I must pay respect to NPR, since I only became aware of Wye Oak the week before the festival when I watched their Tiny Desk Concert. The office concert displays their approach to songcraft and Jenn Wasner’s vocal abilities, but only hints at their overall sound. On stage, the two of them produced a volume of sound: a distorted guitar wave, supported by percussion and keyboard (both handled by Andy Stack.)
I guess to be a good rock duo nowadays, you must generate a saturating, powerful sound in order to compensate for the dearth of contributing band members as well as to provoke the audience and disturb their expectations (eg. “How can two people be so loud and rock so hard?) But certainly another aspect of these bands must surely be the challenge of their limitations, and when they succeed in surpassing those creatively ... good stuff results. And although their sounds may vary from gritty blues-rock to hazy folk ballads to hook-driven garage-style noise rock, these types of bands are solidly among my favorites (though perhaps it’s because I can see myself in a band like this—sort of like the singer/songwriter thing I mentioned in an earlier post.)
Japandroids! You thought I wasn’t going to elaborate on this unusually named band, didn’t you? Well, as a matter of fact, I just returned from their concert down at Maxwell’s in Hoboken (pretty much the best venue around). And although it’s late and my ears are still ringing, I will write on. Japandroids are from Vancouver, Canada and should rank among our northern neighbor’s greatest musical exports: Rush, Barenaked Ladies, Neil Young, Leonard Cohen, Paul Anka, Feist, Joni Mitchell, K-OS, The Tragically Hip, The Arcade Fire, Bryan Adams … wow, that’s kind of a lot. Go Canada, and go Japandroids!
Well, first we listened to the opener, Oberhofer, do their thing. Turns out, that thing is some good, fun, straight-up rock. And apparently, it’s all the brain-child of lead singer Brad Oberhofer, who produced and played all the instruments on his albums. Then, Brian King and David Prowse stepped up to deliver their final concert of what has been a year-and-a-half tour (but their first show in NJ!). Brian informed us that since it was their final night, they were going to let it all hang out—despite their strained voices and road-weariness. And they delivered. On stage, just a mad-distorted guitar and some drums trying to hold the rhythm—and the energized combination produced some seriously catchy/grungy songs. A pit moshed (occasionally), a roadie crowd-surfed, and many lyrics were shouted: good times down at Maxwell’s, courtesy of this Canadian duo whom I’m very glad I caught before they retreated to the Pacific Northwest.
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