This year is the year of Led Zeppelin.
In my time-stunted world, the band is experiencing something of a renaissance. I would not be able to tell you the last time a day elapsed without a single Zeppelin song. Listening to the group has turned into a form of sustenance.
It also means that I’ve been discovering songs that my myopic teenage self had never encountered. Yes, Led Zeppelin IV is a triumph. One of the greatest albums you’ll ever hear. No matter if you’re a hip-hop purist or a classical devotee. If pressed to pick only one Zeppelin album, I would choose it simply for all that it achieves (musically, culturally, creatively) and for its enduring influence. “Stairway to Heaven” is a three-act story compressed into eight minutes of song. You have the plaintive “Going to California” sandwiched between the fiery “Four Sticks” and “When the Levee Breaks.” The genius and artistry is undeniable. From that first glance at the album cover, you sense you’re in for something special.
Dig deeper, welcome imperfection, though, and you’ll unearth new faces of Led Zeppelin.
Lately, I’ve been taken with Led Zeppelin III and Houses of the Holy. According to a Rolling Stone readers’ poll, the albums rank sixth and fourth, respectively, among the band’s oeuvre. I try to avoid letting ratings sway my opinion of art. My internal aesthetic compass has rarely led me astray.
“Tangerine,” along with “D’yer Mak’er,” has been in my steady rotation for at least six months. Last autumn marked the beginning of my revivified dalliance with Led Zeppelin. On a brisk but sun-swept Saturday in October, I was returning home from a visit to an apple orchard. Two bags—a total of 30 pounds—of apples were nestled in my backseat. Driving through the serene roads of rural Pennsylvania, surrounded by tracts of farmland and mature woods, I listened to Led Zeppelin. Somewhere along the way, “Tangerine” trickled out of my car speakers.
A solemn acoustic guitar guides you into the song. Plant’s vocals are sober, paired with the gentle strums of minor chords. In comes Bonham with a steady drum beat and “Tangerine” builds into a ballad. From the verses and the chorus, the song swells and diminuendos but never loses the pensive notes of its lyrics.
Memory and lost love and the slipping away of time are inexhaustible themes. When you filter them through the singular sound of Led Zeppelin, they take on an even more haunting, wistful quality. Listen to “Tangerine” and find yourself, again, enamored of this brilliant band.