Jimmy page & The Black Crowes, Live at the Greek

Review by Sean D. Carberry

Before I dig in, I should confess a couple of things--I've been in need of some cleansing anyhow. First, I'm not a fan of the Black Crowes. Their southern rock, revivalist shtick has never done it for me; I don't think they have half the musicianship of any of the classic bands they've aped over the years. Second, Zeppelin is sacred ground in my book. Jimmy Page is still my main guitar hero, and I have always considered him a genius as a musician, producer, and arranger. He did as much to shape the sound of rock music as any other individual in music history.

Hence, I approach the Page-Crowes uber-group with a certain degree of trepidation. I have had my doubts about Page's chops over the last decade. He has had moments of greatness, but generally his post-Bonham playing lacks the fire and precision (relatively speaking) of his axe grinding in the halcyon days of Zeppelin's reign. Still, he can manage to conjure the spirit of the dragon-suited guitar wizard when the muse hits him. All I can hope for is the Page that moved me to play the guitar.

In addition to my doubts about Page's form, the Crowes pedantic approach to rock doesn't inspire much confidence either. They have a handle, or perhaps a stranglehold, on the classic rock clichés, but they have never shown me that swagger so intrinsic to the music of their idols. Anyhow, they have failed to impress me in the past, so the combination of the Crowes and the waning Page never motivated me to pick up the phone and call Ticketmaster.

However, since their mini tour last year bloomed into a major tour this season, which garnered substantial critical acclaim, I figured I should investigate things a little further. Critical response to the Live at the Greek CD has been positive, so I made the purchase. Time to face the music . . .

As the super group tears into Celebration Day, I am holding my breath and hoping for the best. Page's intro is relatively solid and the band kicks in right on cue. However, I am immediately struck by several things. First is the arena rock sound. Massive drums barrel out of my speakers; the drum sound is so heavy and present it immediately draws attention to the stiffness of Steve Gorman's playing--no Bonham finesse here. In addition to the mass of the drums, the guitars are vastly more aggressive sounding than I expected. Even though Zeppelin's recordings sound huge, the songs and arrangements themselves provide the mass, rather than in your face production. Pagey was adamant about maintaining a fair amount of natural ambience in the Zeppelin recordings, which resulted in a large and complex, yet detailed and dynamic sound. Plus, he was adept at layering smaller sounds on top of each other to achieve a level of intricacy without ungainly mass.

Not so in this case. Granted the recording comprises a live concert(s?), and certain sonic considerations dictate the composition of the final product, but there is a complete lack of dimension and dynamics so vital to the Zeppelin sound. As they roll into Custard Pie, I become more nervous. Page survived the solo in Celebration day, but it was on the ragged side, and the solo in Custard Pie is one of my favorite Page moments. As the song progresses, I am more and more distracted by the stiff, heavy drumming. It seems that Gorman suffers from the same misconception about the Bonham sound as most drummers. Playing hard and heavy isn't the key to the Bonham sound. Bonzo had a swing and fluidity in his playing that many people fail to recognize.

Although the drums irritate me, they don't completely distract me from Robinson's vocals. Does he have cotton balls in his mouth? I'm picturing Brando in The Godfather singing into a coffee can on a string. What's with that sound? I thought it was a gimmick for Celebration Day, but it sounds the same in Custard Pie, so I guess it's intentional--bad choice.

Another bad choice: inviting Alanis Morrisette on stage to play a harmonica solo. I wish that were the explanation, but I think in reality Chris Robinson plays the harp like I play basketball (I'm 5'9", you figure it out). What I also can't figure out is why it sounds like Robinson is singing though a harp mic, yet it sounds like he's playing the harp into a clean vocal mic. Anyhow, the decisive moment rolls around and Page falls short. His solo sounds like a kid who's been playing guitar for a year reading the sheet music. Sorry Jimmy, you're my hero, but the fingers don't seem as fleet as they once were.

As the CD progresses I am torn by my love of Zeppelin and their music, and my growing dissatisfaction with this revival. In fact, this performance doesn't quite measure up to a revival. The arrangements are spot on, and the framework is there, but the devil's in the details. Robinson's vocals and vocal sound lack the primal wail of Plant, Gorman's drumming refuses to relent, and Page continues to under whelm. The group sounds stiff, calculated, and dare I say it: white. There is no fire, no sense of danger, no swagger. Nothing catches me off guard, it's all rehearsed and mapped out, with each move choreographed and telegraphed, and unfortunately the overall performance (primarily due to Page) lacks the precision needed for a convincing revival or revue.

Listening on, I find few positives. The cover songs couldn't be more inert--talk about clichés and uninspiring performances. I'm not sure whether the group is trying too hard to deliver a "perfect" performance that it comes across stiff, or if it's a function of the lack of musicianship rampant among the Crowes. Zeppelin could be hit or miss live, they tended to be spectacular or flaccid, but what you got was real, they always went for it and let it all hang out. The Page-Crowes franchise delivers the commodity, but not the spirit or soul.

As well, the sonic barrage--the in your face drums, corpulent guitars, and plodding grooves- sounds more mechanical than human. The only song where this sound works is "Nobody's Fault but Mine" (the two songs where the sound does the most damage are "Your Time is Gonna Come" and "Hey Hey What Can I do"). This lineup sonically resembles the Presence sound: heavy, tense, and driven. Unfortunately, that underlying pathos in the Presence tracks fails to manifest itself here.

I will concede that there are a few bright spots to this venture. Perhaps because I was expecting a complete trainwreck in the middle of "Heartbreaker" I am pleased to hear a glimmer of the Page archetype. His solo, blurry and imprecise as it is, shows the fire and danger he is so famous for. "You Shook Me" receives a welcome boost from Rich Robinson and Audley Freed with some nice solo work which seems to elevate Page's performance. It almost seems that when Page isn't trying to duplicate one of his classic solos and he just goes after the blues he lands more solidly on his feet. Perhaps he gets too anxious about living up to his legacy; perhaps he gets so absorbed in the moment he looses focus on his playing. Anyhow, I'm just trying to give him the benefit of the doubt as much as possible.

All in all, I'm left cold by this CD. Let's face it, it was tough for Zeppelin to live up to their potential on stage all the time, they couldn't always muster the hammer of the gods, but this enterprise tries by bashing away at their instruments without conveying any of the soul, subtlety, and groove of Zeppelin. Chris Robinson's vocal performance fails to impress me in any respect, Gorman's drumming lacks the nuance of Bonham's playing, Page can't quite charm the serpent in his fingers, and I won't even get started on the dreadful keyboard playing, let alone the cheesy sounds (I'm sorry, but John Paul Jones' intro to "Your Time is Gonna Come" is practically a religious experience, and Ed Harsch should be doing Hail Marys for the rest of his life to atone for his blasphemy).

I'm sure there are people out there proclaiming this as one of the greatest live CD's in recent memory (and disparaging me for expecting too much), and in a distant sense it may be. When regarded as an isolated event it sounds like a big, roaring rock show replete with pounding drums, churning guitars, and screeching vocals. All of the right elements are there. The problem: the majority of the tunes hail from the Zeppelin catalogue, and this group is not Led Zeppelin. Actually, this CD reminds me of recent Aerosmith: calculated, choreographed, corporate, and completely devoid of spirit. At least Joe Perry is still at the apex of his string-bending prowess.

Just to clarify one point, I am not one of those bitter old farts that hates anything new, or different. I loved the No Quarter CD by Page and Plant primarily because it was new and different. Unlike most of Zeppelin's contemporaries who have reunited or rehashed their past glory, Page and Plant completely reinvented their music and took their songs in bold directions. I'm glad they didn't opt for a Zeppelin revue like so many other classic rock bands have over the last decade. They had the balls to indulge themselves and their audience and justify the tour. I also applaud the Walking into Clarksdale CD for it's originality and for it's continuation of the Zeppelin paradigm--keep moving and exploring, don't take the easy, predictable route, and fear nothing.

In the end, the Page-Crowes venture strikes me as nothing more than a commercial vehicle. Sure, Pagey wanted to get out and do some good old rockin', and I admire his desire and passion, but I wish he could pull it off more authoritatively. I wish he could have surrounded himself with musicians that would raise the bar and push him to greater heights. I wish they could have taken a few more chances and jumped without a net. I wish they could have lived dangerously and reigned the fire. They didn't. I guess as long as they were having fun I have no right to hold a grudge because they didn't accede to my wishes, but that still doesn't stop me from wishing they had done more with the opportunity...