Classic Gig Reviews #1: Whole Lotta Crap

Now that I've got a blog, I should keep adding things to it. Though very often I don't have the inspiration to pick up on a subject, it's important to keep the traffic flowing as it were. So on occasion I will be putting on here things I've written elsewhere, elsewhen. The first of these is a review of probably the most annoying gig I've ever been to. It happened in April 2010, and it still smarts now. Most of my gig reviews aren't like this, they're generally (a) quite positive about the band, as they're usually acts I actively want to see, and (b) shorter. So here goes...

They say if you think it’s expensive to hire a professional to do a job, wait until you’ve hired an amateur. Whole Lotta Led are, allegedly, the only professional Led Zeppelin tribute band on the circuit. If this is the case, then I’m willing to pay way over the odds to watch the amateurs.

I came to this gig at Tamworth Assembly Rooms with few preconceptions about the band, but having already seen three Zeppelin tribute bands. So I was quite prepared for an enjoyable evening of being transported to the mid 1970s and being given a taste of what listening to Zep in full live flow would have been like. After all, their blurb promised much – no wigs, no gimmicks, just the music. Excellent – no silly posturing or half-hearted attempts to actually BE Zeppelin (US4/U2 please take note), I was expecting something along the lines of Gaga, who do Queen as if they were a three-piece from the accounts department, as opposed to the admittedly brilliant soundalike frontman of Mercury.

But something didn’t ring true about this lot. For a start, the guitarist and bassist were at least ten years older than the singer and drummer. It turns out the older pair were in a covers band who got such a good reception when doing Zep numbers in pubs that they decided to go all-out and jump on the burgeoning tribute bandwagon. The guitarist, surprisingly for a band keen to claim it’s not about the look, bore a passing resemblance to Page, wore his Les Paul and Gibson double-necks in the same low-slung manner and lifted his guitar skywards, Magus- like, whenever there were a few easy hammer-ons to toss off. His playing was competent but rarely did he stray far into full-on Pagular frottage. He clearly wasn’t comfortable playing slide in In My Time of Dying – his solo was basic to say the least, and he got the diminished chords in the fast bit wrong, making it sound completely flat. In fact that song, which had been whipped off with consummate ease and flair by the Rubber Plants, was stuffy, lacking in dynamism and frankly was slowing down so much toward the end I thought it, or maybe I, was going to die.

The singer was chosen at an audition, and all I can say is he must have put in a career performance that day, or the rest of auditionees were banshees. Coming across as the unfortunate lovechild of Roger Daltrey and a hamster, he seemed to have an inflated sense of his own adequacy. Even from the first number, his flat delivery and gratingly rounded vowel sounds which would have given Liam Gallagher a run for his money, at the very least irritated. Combine this with an unceasing procession of hand gestures more reminiscent of Will Young than Percy, an annoying tendency to provide intense discographical detail about every song (which had similarly spoiled my experience of the otherwise fine John Coughlan’s Quo) and that unwavering overtoothed grin that spoke of extreme self-satisfaction meant it was virtually impossible to warm to the man. One review says they don’t indulge in the sort of drinking and drugging that Zep were famed for, as it would impair their performance. I disagree. I think it might improve it. Or maybe I should.

Oh yeah, the bassist. There was one. He played bass.

A previous review of a WLL gig had said that the lack of violin bow in Dazed and Confused was “disappointing.” I would call it unforgivable. Apart from the fact that this song (like so many) was essentially a retread of the studio version, the omission of one of Page’s centrepiece elements was laughable. Perhaps it was just too difficult for the guitarist to attempt, but it leaves you feeling short-changed when watching a band that claims to be all about Zep’s music. If you want to see how Page used to entertain the crowds with his violin bow bit, Fred Zeppelin are the band to see.

They make a big thing about doing 2½ hour sets – which is fair enough, they did that at Tamworth, but when you do straight retreads of In My Time, Achilles Last Stand, Stairway and When The Levee Breaks, that’s probably about 45 minutes done and dusted straight off. They covered a lot of Zep’s repertoire, but somehow that’s not really the point. The overall impresion was of Zep By Numbers, a CD jukebox playing the album tracks in random order. One reviewer, who shall remain shameless, referred to them as “hits”, and also referred to a song called “Days Of My Youth”, so their opinion of the WLL experience cannot be that of an informed Zep fan.

The point with Zep is that the album versions were never meant to be the definitive versions. They were always the foundations – tracks like Dazed and Confused and Whole Lotta Love were pretty rapidly extended from those recorded versions, to become different beasts altogether. As with the lack of violin bow, there was no attempt to cover any of the extended bits of Whole Lotta Love – no Let That Boy Boogie section for example. There was some theremin work which was ok, and he did use his teeth on it – but this will always pale next to the Rubber Plants lasciviously licking theirs.

I’ve deliberately left the drummer till last, mainly because I did want to try and end on a high note (which is more than the singer managed). Moby Dick was probably my highlight of the evening, (a) because it meant the rest of the band left the stage for ten minutes and (b) he’s actually a good drummer, probably the only really talented member of the band, all that might elevate them above being merely a decent pub band.

The acid test for any tribute band is how the original act reacts to you. Robert Plant can often be spotted at Fred Zeppelin gigs. WLL have a quote from Jimmy Page saying “you’re getting great reviews, I wish you all the best”. Don’t hold back with the gushing praise there, Jim. Would it be terribly cynical of me to suggest that the band got involved with the ABC charity (set up by Page’s wife) in order to get in with him and obtain a soundbite quote? If this is the case then they got the quote they deserve.

So, the fourth Zep tribute act I’ve seen, and I would rank them fifth. Maybe I’m being unfair. Maybe I should end with a few positive statements, so here’s three:

1. They have a good drummer;
2. Some songs they did quite well – Stairway was ok, Achilles was decent, and some of the acoustic set sounded good from the bar;
3. They didn’t do my favourite song of all time – if they had then I would have been going home from Tamworth in the back of a police car. Babel I’m Gonna Leave You, if you will.