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There's been a lot of bunk stirred up about Led Zeppelin over the years. Accuse the band of blues-ploitation, accuse them of occultism, accuse them of selling out. Join, if you wish, the Lilliputian chorus assembled against them; or join the majority for whom mere mention of the band inspires awe. From the raw intensity of "Communication Breakdown" to the cosmic sonorities of "Kashmir" and dubbed-up funk of "D'Yer Mak'er," Zeppelin's music almost never fails to compel. In their prime, Robert Plant's vocal range seemed as wide as the Milky Way, while Jimmy Page set new standards for sloppy perfection on guitar. Meanwhile, John Paul Jones has only John Entwistle to compete with for the centerfold spot in the Who's Who of bass guitarists. And though John Bonham's aspirations ultimately proved to be his undoing, he is revered by many as rock's most powerful drummer. Together they developed the mother tongue from which every Metal dialect derives -- a tongue spoken in psychedelic blues phrases delivered at overdriven speeds. Inevitably, Zeppelin will continue to be passed down like a sacred amulet by older brothers, uncles, fathers and eventually grandfathers to new generations of adolescents getting hip all over again to bell-bottoms, long hair and marijuana.
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