Press Review (1): Ex-Yardbird is Led Zeppelin

Zeppelin came to Sheffield to justify a liking for traumatic hard rock. At the start it looked like Pink Floyd all over again. Not that it mattered to the audience who had fully subscribed the City Hall. If the group had recited Homer, it seemed, they would have roared. Blind Faith.

"Dazed and Confused," a great favourite, was just that. There is much of Jagger in Robert Plant's contortions.
Jimmy Page tortures his guitar with a violin bow, then switches instrument to go solo on "White Summer."

John Paul Jones moves over to organ for a track from the new album, while John Bonham has a whale of a time on the drums with "Moby Dick."
They're called progressive. But it's really a bit of an in joke for students and their ilk.

Underground and pop main line can never compete, although they may merge at some point. Underground will never take over the industry.
Touches of Hendrix spark the Zeppelin performance. They're not as uncontrolled as Pink Floyd, but they need pointing in a worthwhile direction, which didn't stop the audience from going mad.

A remarkable sleight of hand with an old-fashioned thing they used to call a tune. Now you hear it, now you don't. Mostly, you don't. [Jan. 1970, by K. Strong]

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Press Review (2): A ZEPPELIN HITS THE CITY HALL

For those who don't like their rock sticky or with  Blackpool running through the middle, there is Led Zeppelin. It is a hard, lumpy, sexy sweetmeat which had Sheffield's City Hall last night burping with indigestion. This four-man British flying-machine has conquered the US. Their record, "Whole Lotta Love," is second in the American pop charts. In Britain, volume II sails high among best-selling LPs.

Precedents were set before the expensive City Hall sellout was launched. No official programmes - and no interval. "It'll be as busy as a tap room," an attendant predicted.

Solo, Led Zeppelin did their progressive things.  Loudly. City Hall officials don't mind - they're soundproofed. But they're hard pressed by ticketless fans who lean on exit doors.

Jimmy Page's guitar - squealing frequently like a Tom and Jerry soundtrack - is heavily relied on. Lead singer Robert Plant, a shouter, pintos about the stage, abusing the microphone with everything but train noises. Now and again the needle sticks.

They have their moments; but they're shapeless. A robust drum solo by John Bonham is an excuse for, an interval - or to leave. If you've walked out on Pink Floyd AND Jethro Tull, you're dead anyway.  
 [The Star / 1-17-70]