No, this isn’t a shameless plug for you to purchase some
Hopkinsville Goblins product for your Mum this Christmas. If you do we don’t
mind, but the capitalist drive isn’t our main thing. Not having a bank account
for my little guys makes that a bit difficult anyway. Doing this actually costs
us, but you can’t take it with you, right.
Nope, you can do yourself a favour this Christmas by
re-tuning your internal bullshit detector to cope with the next 12 months and
beyond. ‘Twas a time when people could look forward to some solid doses of
truth from people they could relate to. Those days are well and truly over.
When the voice of a generation is a committed little yuppie going by the name
Swift (as in pulling a swiftie) you know you are in trouble. When celebs like
the lovely Tay Tay are going out of their way to paint a picture of how ordinary they are while creaming
hundreds of millions of bucks off unsuspecting kids, you know the world is
being built on flat out lies.
When ecological armageddon is a fact that is not only denied
by those who can try and prevent it, but exacerbated by them acting in the
opposite way, you know you can’t rely on anyone but yourself to get through.
You watch starving people in Zimbabwe saying they hope a higher power will give
them water to break their drought, but you know that won’t happen, because any
higher power is too busy installing circus clowns and mafia bosses into the
most powerful positions in the world. And none of them give a tweet about maize
crops in the new desert.
Christmas is bigged up to be about peace and goodwill to all
men and all that hippie stuff that people like to chortle about on the other
364 days of the year. One day of enlightenment per annum ain’t gonna save yo
ass. It’s becoming clearer every day that enlightenment won’t happen without
armageddon, so the plan has to be about survival and avoiding the traps. So
this Christmas, Instead of celebrating something that happened a couple of
thousand years ago, put some thought into how you can deal with the future. Staying
safe at Christmas has never been so real.
Final words? Rather than some empty festive message, the
Hopkinsville Goblins would like to share these essential clichés with you:
This post is potentially even more sacrilegious than the
last one for fans of rock n roll, because it deals with the mythological
godhead of all rock bands: Led Zeppelin. Even the name should be introduced by
a ten minute thunderous drum solo.
I was originally going to start out talking about hard rock
in general, but thought I needed something to focus on. Who better than the one
band that spawned a gazillion (horrid) imitators and almost single headedly
defined the hard rock formula: the good, the bad and the downright ugly.
I’m going to be up front: I like Led Zeppelin. Or at least
the bits I can relate to. The rest fascinates me for other reasons. The slavish
devotion of hard core fans. The humourless, precious protection of their
mythology. The occult flavour of their legend. The intensity of this has faded
over time, but there are still plenty of whack T-shirts available that suggest
otherwise.
I once played in a band that featured three punk rockers and
two hard rockers attempting to do a mash up of both styles into something
original. Bit of a failure, but not necessarily musically. What failed was the
fact that I (as a punk rocker) let it slip at practice one day that I hated
Robert Plant’s voice. Our drummer (a V8 hard rocker) was outraged and
threatened to quit. Sacrilege had been committed and there was only one way
out. At least he didn’t try to hit me (that wouldn’t have been good), but he
made it pretty clear he couldn’t be in a band with someone who hated Led Zep.
Similar outrage from Zep devotees the world over followed
the release of the Dread Zeppelin album, and earlier when Rolf Harris did a
washboard version of Stairway to Heaven. We all know what happened to Rolf, so
maybe that was karma, but the point is that Messrs Page, Plant, Jones and
Bonham are considered untouchable by millions.
Why so? Well let’s focus on the good for a while.
At their best, these guys are pretty farking amazing. They
understood the groove in blues, but were able to add an additional dimension of
tight syncopation to it through layered rhythms of guitar and keyboards to
produce something truly slamming. Check out “Good times bad times” and “Dazed
and confused” from their first album and “The wanton song”, “The rover” and
“Sick again” from Physical Graffitti to see what I mean. Unbelievably powerful
rhythms topped off by Jimmy Page’s intricate, flowing lead lines. Even wilder
are “Communication breakdown” (first album) and “Celebration day” (Led Zep
III). Both are punkish and funky at the same time and kick the hell out of the
post-hippy daze that was wafting across the music world at the time. You can
only imagine the thrill ride it would have been to hear this in a dark crowded
theatre at maximum volume.
Their impact was incredbily strong, but their influence went
in the wrong direction. Nirvana did the same in the 90s, but grunge didn’t last
because the formula was limited to start with. I was in Bali in the early 2000’s
and heard an Indionesian covers band in action. They did “Stairway to heaven”
but they didn’t do “Smells like teen spirit”. God knows how many bands have
tried to use the Zep formula over the last 40 odd years, but almost all of them
have missed the point. They got the hair, they got the musicianship, they got
the screeching vocals, but they didn’t get the groove. You can dance to Led
Zeppelin. You can’t dance to Soundgarden.
The not quite so good with them is the stuff that punk rock
railed against later in the decade. As a young punkish sort of guy I couldn’t
stand the unending, indulgent musicianship of their live album, and I did truly
hate Robert Plant’s vocals. Why, why, why did he have to squawk like a tortured
cat? For such ballsy music his voice was extremely neutered if you know what I
mean. Might have been the tight jeans that did it. And why, why, why did every
bad heavy rock band they influenced try and do the same? When the Black Crowes
did their live album with Jimmy Page in 1999 it was a breath of fresh air.
Chris Robinson has a Steve Marriot / Rod Stewart vocal style, and I can handle
it much better. On “Live at the Greek” you get an insight into what might have
happened if someone like Terry “Superlungs” Reid was recruited instead of Mr
Plant when they formed back in 1968. Legend tells us that nearly happened, but
Terry passed it up and became a footnote in rock folklore of Stuart Sutcliffe
type proportions.
The other not quite so good is the constant reliance on
Tolkein themes in their lyrics – something else picked up by every bad imitator
throughout the early 70s and beyond. The Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit bore
me rigid. The only entertainment comes from the homoertoic subtext of the
stories that at least gives you a school boy snigger. Something that also has a
surprising parallel in hard rock. Say what I hear you say? Have you watched
Robert Plant’s onstage preening with the cucumber down his pants I ask in
reply? It’s as much an exhibition to the guys as it is to the gals, even if it
is supposed to be about penis envy, it’s also about putting yourself out there
to be worshipped.
The thing about Led Zep is that they weren’t even that
original at the time, they just had the strength to dominate the competition.
The Jeff Beck Group had been doing an arguably better job of super amped blues
with Rod Stewart shredding his lungs across the USA during the year before Led
Zeppelin formed. Page ripped them off completely - but then he had always been
Beck’s understudy in the Yardbirds so I guess it made sense. When Jeff Beck’s
ego and control freak nature destroyed his own band, Page was left holding the
torch and the rest is history.
Then there is the truly ugly side of the band – the side you
wish you could forget, but which keeps hanging around, like a smelly gym sock
lost under your bed. The bits the imitators love. The musty mysticism. The
Aleister Crowley link. The legendary excesses based on wildly overblown
accounts from star struck fans. Only Jim Morrison fans are more sickening in
their dog-like devotion to rock star mythology. Who needs it? At the end of the
day they were young guys with total freedom and an aura that attracted the
wildest aspects of human behaviour. A bit like professional footballers except
with more access to alcohol and drugs. Good on them. Every young guy dreams of
the chance, but they were able to take it. It’s a sideshow, but should it
create a legend? What’s more ugly is the misogyny and the treatment of women as
objects to be exploited. That’s the long lasting cultural impact of cock rock.
The best expose of all the above hideousness can be seen in the rockumentary "The Decline of Western Civilization Part II - The Heavy Metal Years". Tragically funny.
Then there are the drum solos and the cringe worthy vocal imitation
of the guitar lines. Both pointless musical excursions that are unfortunately
embedded in rock culture thanks to these guys. I’ve got an album released in
about 2011 by a hard rock band that features the good and the ugly of Led
Zeppelin in their sound, drum solos included. Just stick to the heavy guitar
groove is my advice. No one really wants to go back to 1971.
The last ugly aspect that always comes up is their colonial
theft from old school blues musicians. Even The Simpsons mention it, so it
shows how deeply Americans in particular feel about it. It’s a particularly
English thing to do. Travel the world, meet new people, and rob them. Most
British hard rock bands featured some blues covers in their sets, but only Led
Zeppelin habitually credited themselves as the song writers. Pre-internet you
couldn’t just look up a song writer, but the fact that they maintained their
innocence until courts loomed is truly mind-boggling. Check out this
link for a comprehensive review of the extent of it. Willie Dixon at
least gets a co-writer credit on some tracks, which is ironic since Mr Dixon
himself had a reputation as a song writing magpie, happy to steal from his
fellow bluesmen at will. Over the years the original bluesmen have been
co-credited on re-releases and have received some royalties so all is largely
forgiven. Solid 60’s jazz-pop group Spirit recently lost their suit over the
Stairway to Heaven intro, so Page and Plant dodged one final bullet. I have that
Spirit album and I never jumped up and said “that’s Stairway to Heaven” when
Taurus started, but you can always play jury yourself if you want:
As always I have to bring it on home. There isn’t a whole
lotta Led in The Hopkinsville Goblins, but we do like our layered guitar
grooves, especially on Posts From Planet Earth and The Hopkinsville Goblins Are
Back! Seek and ye shall find, my pilgrims.
Dearly beloved, I offer up this musical collage to highlight
the massive hypocrisy of those who seek to extort large amounts of money from
the abstract guilt and fear of their fellow human beings. Using damnation as
their lever, and the promise of endless prosperity as a proxy for happiness,
these charlatans present corruption as a blessing and greed as a virtue. The
fact that they are selling pie in the sky is irrelevant. What sucks the most is
that they are misrepresenting the pie as a lemon meringue that will help you
lose weight. In other words they are gold plating the lie to so that their
victims will be even more likely to part with their hard earned cash to get a
piece of it.
As I’ve said in previous posts I have no time for any kind of organised religion, but even I can see that
pimping Jesus as a theological insurance / mortgage broker doesn’t fit with
what it says in le bible. Didn’t the big J chuck such people out of a temple
back in the day?
I guess the holy bible of American capitalism says you can
make a buck out of anything, and you are a winner if you can get away with it,
so it shouldn’t be too surprising that the promise of eternal wealth and
happiness has become a commodity. And that promise is guaranteed as long as you
pay the subscriptions to the agents that can hook you up with it. In other
words the gold toothed, Armani wearing, private jet having crooks that are the
subject of this broadcast.
What has prompted me to put this together is the fact that
these people are becoming wealthier and more shameless by the day, and some are now eyeing political power to accompany their fortunes. In other words
they have the rest of us in their sights and are accumulating the wealth and
power to try and impact on our lives. A mind controlled zombie army ready to
fight for their right to accumulate, and morally dictate, and separate, could end
up influencing the future as you know it. Democracy is supposed to allow the
individual to decide. Where there are no individuals there is no democracy.
In the same style and spirit of public service that gave you
Amerikaemia
I claim no ownership of this material, and present it to you free as a warning
to be mindful and critical of all things that appear to be too-good-to-be-true.
Making money out of it would be kind of poetic, but it would make me as much of
a hypocrite as the subjects, and that’s a place I won’t go.
