Marla
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I really hate you
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Over the years the interest in Zeppy & Co. has faded. Much of it replaced by copycat bands who took Jimmy Page’s blueprint of blues-stealing, riff-bashing, mindless soloing into the heavy metal waters of musical boredom. There wasn’t one spandex butt-plugging, effeminate-hair sporting, little cock swaging MTV act who wasn’t mimicking Page’s trade – particularly in the late 1980’s. Now I won’t dwell into that nonsense any further because for one, it’s an entirely different story.
Many Zeppy Heads ask me why I hate this asshole as if Page is some sort of a saint immune from all criticism. Truth is, I do hate him. I hate this shithead more than any other buggerer on the planet and yes, that includes your F A T orange orangutans and Karl Lagerfields. My answer is simple: Page destroyed music. Well, particularly rock ‘n’ roll. Yes I know, what really killed rock was the limey and their dull-as-bugger “prog rock” with tunes about spaceships and maidens and silly cosmic poo. That was bad enough but Page took it one step further. He made rock ‘n’ roll pretentious.
Everybody with any smacking musical sense knows pretentiousness does not belong. It turns people into assholes. And assholedom is what Jimmy Page was and still is all about. Suddenly rock stars who were in the Zep shadow became assholes too almost overnight. A few escaped like T. Rex and The Modern Lovers but everyone else became zombiefied bugger Nazis with Les Pauls and Stratocasters. Remember when Paul McCartney used to be cool before Zeppy’s first album? Well, there you have it.
If there is one constant in the whole god damn universe it’s assholeness. It never goes away. It reverberates in circles and when common sense takes over…look! Over your shoulder! Its assholeness coming back to bugger you in the ass like a jackhammer riding a tsunami. Case in point: The Led Zeppelin “remasters/deluxe edition” what-the-bugger ever marketing skills done by pissant college grads in Hugo Boss suits. Sure enough, Jimmy Page jumped on this gravy train and that buggerer is going to ride it with your soul as fuel.
Page is a clever businessman. He is re-releasing the re-releases in a new package but the abysmal music is still the same. That’s right, the rip-off remains the same. Page, being the smug, trendy, pseudo-intellectual that he really is has come to the conclusion of cliff hanging the Zep catalog. He’s pulled this poo before but now with ” 2013 digital remastering 20-bit blow me you cocksucker blowjob technology” he’s doing it again. Boy howdy!
Schepply II was recorded in between touring breaks in late 1968 to early 1969. This piece of poo sounds like it, too: Haphazard, non-sequitur with piss poor overdubs and vocal tracks. Zep of course, was playing largely to white audiences so it only make sense they would make this a white album while insulting the black “blooz” artist they admir…er, ripped off. The song themselves (if you want to call them that) were inane mutterings of male genitalia being fascinated with female genitalia with lemons and floors. There were elements of hobbits, Hob-goblins, dwarfs and what appears to be a 3 minute anger management class masquerading as a drum solo. Of course there was the Page patented “blooz” theft but most Zeppy heads are too smacking stupid or senile to recognize the god damn travesty at play here.
Schepply II starts off with ‘Whole Lotta Love’ an originally penned Willie Dixon tune about date rape. An unimpressive distorted sophomoric guitar “riff” attempts to be bombastic but only ends up annoying the poo out of you. Page pretty much set the standard for what was to follow. It only goes downhill from here. Page knows he can go into his bag of tricks so many times without sounding like the joke he is so he leaves it up to the engineers and a lot of studio gimmicky. There is a lot of unnecessary panning, overkill vocals dubs while Page’s crappy soloing becomes unhinged.
‘Thank You’ is downright smacking retarded. Cliché lyrics about “mountains and seas” while Plant praises his penis above all that is pure in nature. Page plays a 12-string so superfluously while the other two on the Zep payroll play along including the use of a Sunday school church organ. Yes, smacking ghey.
Side 2 of II manages to out embarrass side 1. Page’s playing is abominable; selfish sloppy solos, disjointed riffs and poorly mixed overdubs. ‘Ramble On’ is Simon & Garfunkel with Hobbit lyrics. No real depth to any of the songs. ‘Moby Dick’ is unbuggeringlistenable and the ending ‘Bring It On Home’ Page drives the knife of plagiarism to the hilt. Just a terrible, terrible record.
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