I didn’t mention Babe I’m Gonna Leave You when I reviewed Led Zep’s debut platter. It didn’t swing my verdict one way or the other. It’s not the best song on the album and it’s not the worst. But I was listening to Led Zeppelin again today and a lot of the album’s characteristics are summed up in this one song. It’s a great example of the album’s light and shade, folk and rock. A lovely acoustic part alternates with a cool heavy part where Boaby “Robert” Plant lets rip with roaring vocals. But it’s also a great example of why I got so bored of the album so quickly. The light and heavy parts both have the same chord progression which means this overlong song doesn’t feel like it’s going anywhere. And neither does the narrator. By the end of the tune, no-one has left anyone. After the 17th-or-so “baby” I’m the one getting itchy feet.
They would go on to enjoy insane, enormo-success and an inflated reputation as the One Band To Rule Them All but Led Zeppelin’s first flight was a rickety, low budget affair. Their S/T 1969 debut album was knocked out in just 36 hours for less than two grand, which is not bad going considering it became a seminal work in the early history of “heavy”. Before Black Sabbath and before In Rock, Led Zep dished out dark, powerful riff-based rock on tracks like the bewitching Dazed And Confused. But there are both good times and bad times to be had on Led Zeppelin. Communication Breakdown is a superb proto-Paranoid metal chug but Good Times, Bad Times‘ powerful rhythm section and Your Time Is Gonna Come‘s dreamy mix of acoustic guitar and organ can’t disguise the band’s dated, hippy songcraft. Elsewhere, the famously sticky-fingered Brits resort to mining other artists’ material. This approach works well on tracks like How Many More Times, where Zep supercharge the blues with swingingly heavy results. But it also results in stodgy workouts like I Can’t Quit You Baby and Black Mountain Side, a folk arrangement that shows good taste but lacks imagination. The album’s thudding rock power makes Led Zeppelin a notably heavy debut but it’s also heavy in mood: a monochrome moroseness that, mixed with some weak and old-fashioned material, makes repeat listens an increasingly dreary experience. Better would come when Zep’s creativity and vision caught up with the power of their delivery.
Florida’s Saigon Kick arrived too late for the 80s glam metal party but their 1991 debut album had an eclectic and alternative edge that seemed custom-built for the new decade. The flashy chops and harmonies cast back to the glory days of Ratt, Dokken and the like but colourful shades of Alice In Chains, psychedelia and thrash pointed to the future.
Easy to see why there was a buzz about this band but the eclecticism is a double-edged sword. The variety is impressive and keeps things interesting but also means that for every infectious pop rocker like Colors or moody metaller like New World there’s a cheesy U2-esque Love Of God or the silly cod-angst of What Do You Do. Add banal lyrics to all the style-hopping and the album starts to seem like it’s got little to say.
The hard edge and druggy melody brings to mind contemporaries like Warrior Soul and Enuff Z’nuff but Saigon Kick are inferior to both, with neither Warrior Soul’s incendiary intelligence or Enuff Z’nuff’s depth and taste. There definitely some great stuff here but in an era with a bewildering array of musical flavours on offer, Saigon Kick taste too vanilla.