When: 21/11/14
I was never a big Zeppelin fan. Sure, I had 4, it was compulsory at my school, but I have honestly never listened to anything beyond 1-4, other than by chance. So what the was I doing at a Bobby Plant gig? And why did I love it? The answer is probably because he has become so identifiably the anti-zep, supposedly leaving a trail of torn up cheques in the wake of Jimmy Page's tears. And, let's face it, the boy can sing.
I slowly found myself thinking his way round about Big Log, the unfortunately titled lead song from his mullet years, then beginning to keep an ear close to his ground. Mighty Re-arranger I didn't like, but suddenly, there he was with Alison Krauss and, then, Buddy Miller and Patty Griffin, singing a Richard Thompson song too, no less. Clearly right up my street and it was. Initially non-plussed by a return to shape-shifting, I then read he had hooked up with estimable ex-Jah Wobble alumnus, Justin Adams, and caught a glimpse of his Glasto show on the telly, being especially captivated by the beard of one "Skin" Tyson on other guitars. The rest just sort of fell into place.
The drive to Wolverhampton is always far longer than it ought, but for once I made it in decent time, joining the crowd standing outside in the rain, awaiting the doors to open. No way to treat pensioners, I thought, but the door staff eventually relented. The support, Last Internationale, started promisingly with a solo acoustic song strummed by an extremely strong voiced siren. This was Workers of the World Unite, reminiscent, strangely, of Joan Baez, before the remaining couple of band members came on and the set fell into derivative and generic heavy rawk, Joan having now become Grace (Slick), unable even to grab my attention with a Neil Young cover.
After a long gap and in a flurry of facial hair the Shape Shifters kicked off in top gear, launching straight into songs from the excellent Lullaby and the Ceaseless Roar, Plant in a good humour, mane tied back. Controlling the centre stage with the occasional twist of his microphone stand to complement commendations to clap, Adams bobbed and weaved about to his side, looking like a young Joe Strummer. A delight whenever he appeared was Juldeh Camara on a one stringed african fiddle, transforming the ambience of the strategically placed LedZep songs in the show. The first of these was a charming Going to California, with Babe, I'm Going to Leave You, not far behind. Maybe annoyingly, it was these old faithfuls that drew the greatest applause, despite, on occasion, being the least interesting to my ears. Thankfully there was plenty enough of the new album available, with Tyson skipping from flamenco guitar to banjo to 12-string electric, underpinned by the keys/loops/computer of John Baggott, sometime of Massive Attack, chunky drums by Dave Smith and Billy Fuller's lithe bass.
Rainbow, a Radio 2 Ken Bruce acclaimed track, we were told, was a high point before a blasting Whole Lotta Love to end proceedings, Plants voice belieing any idea he may have lost his range. An old Bukka White song, Fixing to Die, and "another folk song" Rock and Roll made for a satisfying encore before the lights came up on the celebratory local boy made good. Show of at least the week.
Loved it.
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