Led Zeppelin: IV

No album can compete in terms of sheer magnitude of awesomeness. From the opening riff on “Black Dog” you know it’s time to buckle up. Not one of, but the most iconic album of all time, and it earns every ounce of praise it has received.

Led Zeppelin IV isn’t just a record it’s a movement, a monolith. The guitars melt and belt, the singing is energy incarnate. Borrowing from all conceivable genres, rock, blues, metal, funk, lots of artists experimented. Zep dabbled in black magic, undefinable by mere mortal standards.

“Black Dog” covers nearly five minutes, barely retreading verses it had plowed prior, an epic ride with absolutely insane guitar solos until it fades out, making way for

“Rock and Roll.” A song so successful it feels like it’s in every movie ever made. It’s a three-way competition for which instrument stands out most; the guitar solo, the layered riffs, or the absolute menace of the drums. They can’t even agree who gets the last word, taking turns sending us off until both ring out their final note in unison.

“The Battle of Evermore” is our first opportunity to come up for air. Slowing things down but still carrying a metal-tinged mysticism. Dueling vocals, a mandolin (which Page had never played before, if lore is to be believed), and a Tolkien-esque clash of good and evil make this an adventure via sound.

Next comes what could possibly be considered the greatest song of all time: “Stairway to Heaven.” Clocking in at over eight minutes, it unfolds like a prophecy. The song changes pace intentionally, taking the listener on a literal journey from pastoral folk to thunderous climax. When Led Zeppelin set out to make something epic, they had no idea how right they would get it.

“Misty Mountain Hop” follows with a Rolling Stones-like intro, channeling other acts like The Beatles, The Who, and AC/DC. It jumps styles so fluidly it’s almost imperceptible. The song, often interpreted as commentary on marijuana legalization and youth counterculture, helped fuel criticism from writers like Lester Bangs at Rolling Stone, who accused the band of grandiosity and mysticism without substance. To that, I’d ask: what is it lacking? Style? Grace? Emotion? Message? It’s all there.

Read it for yourself and I want to know, who are these imitators, Mr Bangs, who come even remotely close to The Zep.

“Four Sticks” has the unenviable task of following what has, to this point, been a perfect run. A completely serviceable song made to look weaker only because of the giants surrounding it. This is the comedown track. It's tense, rhythmic, transitional.

“Going to California” is the lone blemish in my eyes. Too timid, too folk-leaning. If “Four Sticks” is the comedown, this is the bathroom break. For others it’s tender and reflective; for for me, it slightly stalls momentum.

We close with “When the Levee Breaks,” a swampy, thunderous blues reboot of the original by Memphis Minnie and Joe McCoy. The drums alone could level a city block. It’s the perfect ending to a perfect album, primal, heavy, thundering.

Zep couldn’t have known what this album would become, but 50+ years later it’s still embedded in the cultural bloodstream. Movies, TV, commercials, sporting events, it’s everywhere without ever feeling diluted. That’s the difference between oversaturation and immortality.

You can’t hate on them any more than you can hate on Jordan for being good at basketball.

With this record, Led Zeppelin cement themselves as the rock GOATs with a near-flawless 42-minute rock sermon.