I saw "Percy" as he was once known, at the Cropredy Festival in the early 90's, performing not in his own right but as an unadvertised guest of Fairport Convention, whose festival Cropredy effectively is. He sang for the best part of an hour on the Saturday night, with Fairport backing, a selection of Led Zeppelin material. For me, this was quite wonderful, as however much I might enjoy a few of yer folkie tales of blood thirsty noblemen and their wenches, I had long regretted my failure to see Led Zeppelin. Not entirely my fault: the trip to Earls Court from Cheshire in 1975 at the age of 15 was a non-starter, and what proved to be their last hurrah at Knebworth in 1979 was scheduled to coincide with my summer holiday. Fairport's members at the time included a couple of musicians who were and remain in demand as sessioneers more than capable of emulating the instrumentation of Zeppelin at all but their heaviest. If anything Plant's voice at that time was stronger than it had been in '79 as evidenced by the Knebworth DVD that emerged several years later. Some of the more traditional finger-in-the-ear afficionados were less impressed, grumbling that Plant had hi-jacked Fairport's set, but as Fairport were given to dragging on for four hours on a Saturday night, in my book he did them (and me) a favour!
The band is not the lavish travelling circus which Plant could probably call on if he wanted to. Two versatile guitarists, bass, drums and a diminutive, decorative backing singer/duetist. A set up which reminded me of some of Richard Thompson's touring bands which have called upon a few multi-instrumentalists rather than the semi-redundant excesses that bigger stars can afford to finance. And that feminine decoration which male artists of a certain age seem to engage in case their grizzly old visage is likely to frighten the horses. Arguably necessary in this case, as Plant wanted to use some of the duet material from the relatively recent Alison Krauss album, but not essential. Certainly the other, male, members of the Band of Joy had not been subject to any kind of aesthetic vetting. Gargoyles 'R' Us !
But I digress. What did it sound like? An extension of the record, I suppose, in that the primary influence was blues with american country overtones. The Zeppelin catalogue was not overused,and with the exception of "Tangerine" and a stonking encore of "Rock and Roll", significantly re-arranged from the original versions. A traditional gospel song mutated briefly into "In My Time Of Dying", while "Gallows Pole" enjoyed a more subtle, spooky sound than on record. Otherwise the bias was to the new-ish album and recent material rather than paying much attention to earlier solo efforts (I was hoping for "29 Palms" myself). The band was slick as you could wish for and Plant's voice is still gripping, any limitations coped with by the aforementioned re-arrangement of material and shrewd choices of what to cover. Still a voice that makes you think "you lucky bastard!" when you hear it. And if I look like him when I'm 62, which given the current lack of long blonde curls seems unlikely, I'll be happy. Craggy in a good way.
Definitely worth the price of admission (significantly cheaper than some lesser shows, I'd say). I can imagine Plant & Co. going down a storm at Glastonbury, but in the meantime the Radio 2 sponsored Electric Prom on Friday is to be broadcast on radio and red button, and while it will only provide a taster, I commend it to the house.
A mention too for Justin Adams & Juldeh Camara, a support act well above the average who provided an intriguing half hour of blues fused with african instrumentation. Those members of the audience who sat out their performance in the bar missed a treat.
P.S. Much as I enjoyed the show, I managed to buy the seat next to a self-important muppet who spent most of the show reading and writing e-mails on his Blackberry. Not Richard Branson or David Cameron, but clearly a Very Important Person. Now, I admit to using a digital camera (flash disabled) briefly (and mostly during the encore, during which the audience was on its hind legs and not really paying attention to more than its ability to sing "Bin a long lonely lonely lonely lonely time" at the top of its collective lungs). But this is not the same as waving a highly luminous screen around for the whole performance. One of those occasions when I wished I was built more like a boxer and could whisper a sinister threat with conviction.