In his autobiography, Bill Graham, the late concert promoter, described Led Zeppelin as “the ultimate rite of passage band.” My vote would be The Doors, but who am I to question the most famous promoter of all time? Graham also described the band and its entourage as bringing with them, “raw, naked, aggression.”
Several popular musicians and music critics have been vocal in their disrespect for Zeppelin, citing the group for basically ripping off old blues artists, rearranging the songs a bit, and calling them their own. As someone who isn’t a musician in any way, I can’t speak to that.
The band developed a following and became huge. Fans, record sales, and concert attendance are what matters. Jimmy Page is responsible for some of the greatest riffs in the history of rock and roll, and his guitar sound is his unmistakable. Many say John Bonham was the greatest drummer ever, with impeccable timing. Throw in Robert Plant’s voice and the multi-instrument talents of John Paul Jones and there you have it.
I was very late to discover and explore their catalog, starting with “Led Zeppelin II” years after its release. Next came “Led Zeppelin IV”. I never owned their debut record, “Led Zeppelin III”, or Physical Graffiti” as a teenager, but the music I knew, I liked a lot. They became a “must see” act.
During my senior year in high school in March of 1977, I drove home for lunch break. I held tickets to see Jethro Tull, who were headed to St. Louis. “You got something in today’s mail from Tony Morris,” said mom. Tony, a friend, was a year older and attending college in St. Louis.
The short note read, “Krotchie (a nickname. Kriegshauser to Krotchhauser, shortened to Krotchie) Zeppelin, I repeat, Zeppelin, is coming to St. Louis. Details to come.” Jethro Tull was out, Led Zeppelin was in! The Tull tickets were sold to friends Bill Cox and Bill Aiken.
The show was announced. Led Zeppelin for one night. Friday, April 15th, at The Arena. Tickets would be sold at The Arena box office only and were priced at $10 each. TEN BUCKS?! Most concerts of that era had ticket prices that capped around $7.50. Money was one thing, the bigger issue was how to obtain tickets? There was sure to be a long, overnight line on the arena property. There was no way I would be allowed to skip school to camp out overnight in a parking lot. Mom was cool but not that cool.
Tony had a solution and it came in the form of a near miracle. Tony couldn’t stand in line but two of his friends were willing to do so “just for the fun of the party atmosphere and spending the night in line with others.” The two weren’t interested in getting tickets for themselves, but we may have compensated them with a tip of around $30, to be split equally among the ticket holders. We wound up with six tickets, one for myself and five to share with friends who were interested in going. The crew was eventually formed. Brian Ervin and myself would drive down in my car. Rick Alspaugh, Larry Borrowman, Jeff Seymour, and Mike Burrows would take a second car.
18 years old, seniors, and about to see Led Zeppelin. We thought we were hot shit. Excited and counting down days to the show. This was my second trip to The Arena, located west of downtown St. Louis, I wanted to make sure to allow plenty of time for the drive, missed exits, etc. Mom sent a note, asking permission for me to leave school early that day. We were playing flag football in the lot across the school when I asked Coach Bennett to leave. I was dismissed. Jeff Seymour was in the same class and whined, “but coach, he’s going to the same place as me.” Seymour didn’t have a note, he remained.
The 90 mile drive was enhanced by a six pack of seven ounce cans of Coors beer. I’d visited Culver-Stockton college in February or March, beginning to explore college possibilities. Keokuk, IA was 30 minutes north of Canton and the legal drinking age in Iowa was 18. Once done at Culver, I drove on up to the border and made my first legal purchase of alcohol at some downtown grocery store, deciding to hold the beer for a “special occasion.” Zeppelin was it. Brian and I finished off the last two cans as we sat in the north parking lot that sloped down to the “old barn” as The Arena was known as.
Once inside we began to find our way to our seats. It felt like we were climbing Mt. Everest, we were two rows from the top and back of the building. Erv and I were together, the other four were in our row but down a few seats, still within sight. 16.000 people, lots of pot in the air, mid-April, in a building with no air conditioning. It became sticky quickly.
I had a camera, and my hometown paper had provided me with a “press pass” of sorts on Pike Press letterhead. The goal was to photograph from the pit in front of the stage. After settling in, I walked back down the steps to the northeast lobby, looking for someone who looked “official.” An arena employee listened to my pitch and seemed like he wanted to help. Right on cue, a member of the Zeppelin crew appeared, walking around to make sure everything was as it should be. The arena guy stopped the Zeppelin guy and I explained I had a press pass. The Zeppelin guy wanted none of me, was in a hurry and appeared irritated. “I don’t care if he’s with Jesus Christ of the Latter-Day Saints,” he said to the arena man in a British accent. I made my way back up the many flights of steps.
We all waited for the show. Years later I learned that three in the other group had spiked the hamburger of the fourth with a “substance.” during a stop on the way to St. Louis. I have never asked that person what he thought of, or remembers of, the concert.
There was no opening act.
“Welcome to the sauna” said Robert Plant as they hit the stage, making reference to the heat in the building. Opening with “The Song Remains the Same,” they were off and running, looking like ants from our location, it was loud. I failed to recognize the next four songs, due in part to misinformation I’d brought on myself for years. Thinking the band was touring in support of the live album, “The Song Remains the Same,” unaware that “Presence” had been released in March of 76’. That album produced no charting songs and I was totally unfamiliar with any of it. “Physical Graffiti.” was the same, I’d seen it in record stores but never picked it up. The set list drew heavily from “Graffiti,” skipping many earlier songs, now classics.
Firecrackers were set off with frequency, prompting a plea from Robert Plant. “Please, no more bangs.” There was dead time between songs. Where was the “freight train” we’d expected? It was disjointed and unfocused.
They made it to “No Quarter,” the live version superior to the studio version, the best song of the show. An acoustic set came, then more unfamiliar songs, followed by Bonham’s drum solo and Pages’ obligatory guitar solo with the violin bow.
Glancing to my right, down the row, I looked to see how the others were faring. Three of the guys were upright but Seymour’s giant Afro was silhouetted against an exit light, he was passed out, leaning forward. Was it the heat or was the band that boring?
“Stairway to Heaven” closed the set and that was it. No encore. “Booos” rained from every corner of the building.
Stopping at a Denny’s near St. Charles on the way home for a bite, I don’t recall any of us exclaiming what a great show it was. Jim Barrow saw me on the way to school the following Monday. “What did you think of it”? My response was that it was a big disappointment.
I have to take responsibility for a lot of it. for not being well-versed on their songs. That night, “Nobody’s Fault but Mine” sounded like noise. Now it’s one of my favorite Zeppelin songs. Many consider “Physical Graffiti” to be their best work. It was omitting material from the second and fourth albums, along with no encore, that left people upset. I wasn’t alone, the show drew bad reviews in Concert News, a St. Louis paper devoted to live music.
The tour continued…Remember Bill Graham’s observation of “raw, naked, aggression.” On July 23rd, the band played in Oakland, there was a dispute between Graham’s staff and the Zeppelin camp. Peter Grant (band manager) Richard Cole and John Bindon (road manager and security), along with Bonham, beat one of Graham’s people nearly (literally) to death in a backstage trailer. A full chapter in Graham’s book is devoted to Led Zeppelin and this incident. When I read and learned of what happened in Oakland I thought back to St. Louis, wondering if that encounter in the lobby was with Cole or Bindon?
A great band, not so nice humans, especially Grant and Bonham. Karma took care of them in time.
I made it through the rite of passage and got the t shirt, sold it at a yard sale a few years back, probably shouldn’t have. The memory still with me.
From a St. Louis newspaper.
From a St. Louis newspaper.
My ticket stub.
The only photo I made that night, from near our seats.
I think this photographer was with either Washington University or St. Louis University.
Photos and review from Concert News.
Show recap from a Led Zeppelin fan site.
The set list.