According to news reports, like this one from Forbes, Robert Plant literally tore up a reunion contract worth upwards of $800 million for 32 reunion shows in 3 locations – Berlin, London and New Jersey. Reportedly, Jimmy Page, John Paul Jones and the late great John Bonham’s son, Jason Bonham, signed on for the deal. While Robert allegedly tore the contract in two, I can understand his reasoning.
One, he doesn’t need the money.
Two, one of the original four has died and thus killed the band.
It took me a long while to finally “get” what Plant (and originally, the other members, according to press release I remember from 1980) said about their dearly departed drummer:
“We wish it to be known, that the loss of our dear friend and the deep respect we have for his family, together with the deep sense of undivided harmony felt by ourselves and our manager, have led us to decide that we could not continue as we were.”
As a high school senior at the time, I took that to mean that they really missed their friend and could not imagine continuing without him. While that sentiment is undoubtedly true, the “undivided harmony” they had with him was also on a musical level. The dude was just an amazing drummer.
I’ve said it before (and I’ll say it again, partly because I think it is so unusual), but I came to this realization in somewhat of an “uh-huh” moment because of two great DVDs. One was the boxset of the horribly underrated and under-appreciated and woefully cut short television series Freaks and Geeks.
Freaks and Geeks was the first television series that accurately captured the lifestyle of America circa late ’70s/early-early ’80s. The only other output that captured the baked teenager lifestyle was the movie Fast Times at Ridgemont High (thanks to Sean Penn playing Jeff Spicoli). It was also the start of something great. It was the first big collection of the modern comedy gang of Seth Rogen, Jason Segel, James Franco and producer Judd Apatow. They’ve kind of been a little successful since. There was this one little episode that included the announcement of the death of John Bonham. Lindsay (Linda Cardellini), the girlfriend of Nick (Jason Segel) asks Nick, “What’s the matter?” And all forlorn Nick mentions that John Bonham died. “Yeah, I know. Last week.” Nick mutters, “He’s dead. You know? It’s like he’s dead. And as a result there’s no more Led Zeppelin.” Lindsay responds with what all of us have probably wondered: “Well why don’t they just get a new drummer?” Nick is almost offended that she asks. He asks, “Are you— ?” And then he just turns and says, “Just forget it.” Watch the brief conversation here.
What he implied was that you don’t just replace the best drummer of all time. Anyone else would just pale in comparison. Imagine Van Halen without Eddie (it’s a compliment to add him to this discussion, by the way) or The Beatles without John Lennon. Nirvana without Kurt. It just doesn’t work, make sense or acknowledge the magical chemistry of that one essential part.
Yes, Jason Bonham, the son of John who was captured playing his dad’s kit in The Song Remains the Same, is the closest to a natural choice one could make, but he falls short of his old man.
The other DVD that brought this point home to me was the Led Zeppelin DVD. Playing that thing cranked up loud on a 5.1 Surround Sound system makes the point quite clearly and solidly. The thundering and powerful drumming of John Bonham is totally unique, identifiable and irreplaceable. Watch, listen and feel songs like “Kashmir,” “The Ocean,” which Bonham counts off and, of course, his solo piece, “Moby Dick.”
That, my friends, is why Led Zeppelin broke up and did not replace John Bonham with another drummer. It wasn’t just because they missed their long lost friend, it’s because he was so great at drumming that no one could replace him.
Now, would I like to see a Led Zeppelin reunion show? You bet your sweet vintage t-shirt I would. I’ve been spoiled all these years with media access to rock and roll shows for the better part of three decades, but I’m also a frugal guy (that’s the nice way of saying, “cheapskate!”). When I went to go see The Rolling Stones at the Cotton Bowl in Dallas in 1981, I paid $18.50 for my ticket. This was the day/era of paying $8.50 or maybe even (gasp) $12 to see an arena rock show or a big club show. After paying $18.50 for this 3-band bill, (I believe it was The Fabulous Thunderbirds and ZZ Top opening), I kind of knew it was the beginning of the end. ‘Oh no,’ I thought, ‘If the Stones get away with $18.50, concert ticket prices are only going to go up from here.’ Sigh, ain’t that the truth.
So, being a cheapskate, I have a real hard time paying $100 to see a concert. $100 is a lot for any experience that lasts less than three hours. I think there are very few bands that are worth that much to see. “It’s against my religion to pay $100 or more for a concert ticket,” I often joke. But I would make an exception for a Led Zeppelin reunion show. I felt like I was floating in 18″ or more of euphoria off the ground when I saw the first Page/Plant tour and they opened with a few notes of “The Wanton Song” and then turned on a dime to play “The Immigrant Song.” I was also elevated into joyhood when their second tour came through Texas and they emphasized even more of the Zeppelin catalog. Both were without the skillful contributions of John Paul Jones. The Celebration Day bluray/DVD discs capture the essence of this great band. “For Your Life” is a great snapshot of this in-the-pocket low end, the Zeppelin groove and swagger.
So Robert Plant is (apparently) keeping a Zeppelin reunion from happening. I understand the principle. Perhaps this brings an ironic meaning to his second solo album, The Principle of Moments. Do I hope he changes his mind? Absolutely. Can I live without it happening? Surely. Either way, it can never be the same without John Bonham.
On an almost completely unrelated side note, apparently the man who put up the reunion concerts offer was Richard Branson, whose real life persona is very close to the fictitious villain billionaire (Ronald Bronson) that makes an offer to myself for giving up secrets to my classified time travel U.S. Air Force mission in my novel, Desert High. In the story, I turn down his attractive offer of fortune and fame for an international boost for my magazine distribution as part of my efforts to be a good soldier, who never gives away strategic military secrets. Pardon me for the self-promoting digression.
I respect a man (R. Plant) that turns down big money on principles. There’s also the whole behind-the-scenes factors and reasons that we may never (nor should we ever) be privy to. But maybe a world-changing opportunity might come along that would make it worthwhile. What could an organization like Compassion, Red and Amnesty International do with $800 million? Food for thought.
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