In which I admit to error (22/3/13)

 This collection is all about extracting from the original the pointless negativity that I've 'occasionally' been prone to. But here? Here I'm resurrecting a little of the original complaining, just so I can show that I'm capable of making my wrong opinions right.

Apologies to messrs Page, Plant, Jones and Bonham here. Massive bloody apologies.

Okay. In the way that I return to certain subjects - songs you've never heard, the way music intertwines with your life, comics, oh no that's right we've stopped that one haven't we? - this may turn out to be the first in a series of reflections. But a very short, limited series as the next sentence will make abundantly clear.

Sometimes I can be wrong.

There, said it. Went public on the great unsaid secret. Despite all my protestations that I am in fact correct about everything there are times when I may well have had to reassess my initial opinion on something.

Case in point?

This morning as the blizzard beckoned outside Shaun Keaveny (and if you don't already listen to his splendid 6music breakfast show then start immediately) played 'Ramble On' by Led Zeppelin. Now, I hated Led Zeppelin. Absolutely detested them. For about thirty years. I was 13 at the height of punk. The tail end of punk and, most specifically, the era of post punk were 'my thing'. We were trained to hate Zep, they were the enemy. The music of a previous generation, the only reason it existed was to be railed against. (We weren't genuinely trained you understand, they didn't have Al Qaeda style camps devoted to the planning of attacks on anybody in denim and flares, although that would have been great in retrospect)

They were too old. They were at least thirty. They had long hair. Bare chests. Endless bloody guitar solos. Endless bloody drum solos, come to that. Their songs went on forever. They had literary pretensions but nothing to say. 'Ramble On' was a prime contender for that level of 'oh my Christ is he serious?'  book based plundering; a perfectly serviceable little tune until 'Percy' Plant (thus named for his obvious desire to be a classical poet in the manner of Shelley) started talking about this girl that he met 'in the darkest depths of Mordor' and how 'Gollum' brief pause for dramatic effect 'and the evil ones' snatched her from him. Oh. For. God's. Sake. Read a bit of Tolkien have you son, think you're the king of the fairies, you're not. You're a bloke from Wolves. (Wolverhampton that is, not actual Wolves with like fur and fangs and everything. He'd have loved that, being raised by wolves. Like Eddie Izzard. Have I started rambling?)

Anyway. The drunken arguments that I have had over Led Zep;
"Zep are shit"
"How can you say that?"
"Easy. Like this. Zep are shit."
"You can't say that."
"I can. I just have. Twice. Would you like to hear me say it again?"

Then they brought out a new greatest hits, "Mothership" and we played it in work. A lot. And I complained about it. A lot. Until.....gradually, slowly something crept up on me. I liked a few songs on this. I quite liked Stairway To Heaven which had always been the worst, most overblown offender in a catalogue of overblown offenders. I liked Rock'n'Roll, a song I'd hated so much that I once walked out of an Icicle Works gig on principle when they encored with a cover of it. Suddenly it hit me.

I liked Led Zeppelin.

I was wrong about them (see, I've said it again. The W word) they were actually pretty damn decent. And the guitar work was great. And that bloke at the front? Hell of a singer. Incredible front man.

There were some apologies to be made. Phone calls to friends that I'd argued with over the years. They weren't smug about my wrongness. Honest.

So, take this as an actual written apology to the band themselves.

Dear Led Zep, I was wrong. Soz.

That bit about Gollum though? Still bollocks.