I discovered Led Zeppelin my freshman year of college.

Well, wait… no. That’s not entirely accurate. I was aware of Zeppelin as early as middle school; it was pretty much impossible for a young person not to be at that point in time. Lots of kids were wearing t-shirts with the “Swan Song” logo on them, and if you listened to Rock 103 or Rock 99 — which I did — it seems like either “Black Dog” or “Rock and Roll” played every single hour on the hour. And of course “Stairway to Heaven” got a lot of attention during the Great Satanism Hysteria of the early ’80s. Many of my classmates seemed to believe that listening to that “Stairway” song while playing Dungeons and Dragons under a blacklight would open a direct portal to Hell in your closet, or something like that. So, yeah, I knew of Led Zeppelin. But I didn’t really start to appreciate them until one beautiful fall afternoon when I was driving along 13th East in my little VW Rabbitt — what, you think I drove the Galaxie or my old T-Bird to the U of U everyday, and then left it in one of those tiny little parking stalls to get all dinged up? Not even.

Anyhow, I was driving along that day with the westering sun flashing and winking through the trees and golden leaves the size of salad plates fluttering down to the road from the stately trees overhead, and onto the radio came the Zeppelin song “Ramble On.” That’s the one that mentions Gollum from The Lord of the Rings, which, I will admit, was the thing that first caught my attention. But it was the overall mood of the song and the non-Gollum imagery that stayed with me and was still on my mind later that evening. It was one of those rare moments when you hear some random piece of music that seems so perfectly suited to the setting or the activity that it feels as if your life has a genuine soundtrack. Before long, I’d bought a copy of Led Zeppelin IV and a paperback copy of Hammer of the Gods and was on my way to becoming at least a casual fan of what was once called “The Biggest Band in the World.” (To be clear, I never got really into Zep, but I enjoy a lot of their stuff.) To this day, their music always seems to remind me of back-to-school time no matter what season I actually hear it in.

So it seems perfectly fitting that one of their songs happened to come up on my iPod tonight as I was walking around the dark subdivisions that crowd the Bennion Compound on three sides, reflecting with much melancholy on this, Labor Day, the last night of a summer that never seemed to get started for me. Doubly fitting that it was one of their mellower, slightly sad ones as well. Ladies and gentleman, to note the coming crisp evenings and yellowing of the leaves, I give you “Going to California,” one of my all-time favorite Led Zeppelin tracks:

Zeppelin predates the music video by quite a few years, so the most visually interesting version I could find on YouTube was this live clip from one of the five sold-out nights the band played at Earls Court Arena in London in 1975, when they were at the very peak of their popularity and creativity. I think this is a beautiful song, even if the lyrics about girls with flowers in the hair are incredibly dated at this point. It’s startling to realize that Led Zep was actually contemporaneous with the whole flower-child thing, considering that they don’t really sound like a typical “Sixties band.”  In fact, for a long time while I was in high school in the ’80s, I thought they were a current band, because their music was still so ubiquitous on the radio. (They actually broke up in December of 1980; I was in my first year of middle school then.)

You know, it just occurred to me that I really don’t hear Zeppelin on the radio much anymore…

Tonight’s video selection isn’t particularly significant, and I have no particular memory or anecdote associated with it. I just like the song:

Lou Gramm was, of course, the lead singer for one of the biggest bands of the classic-rock era, Foreigner. But like so many leads from bands that peaked creatively in the late ’70s and early ’80s, including Steve Perry of Journey, Roger Hodgson of Supertramp, and especially Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac, Gramm felt the need to go solo for a while in the late ’80s. He scored a couple of hits from two solo albums, of which this single — “Midnight Blue” — was the biggest, charting at number one on the Billboard charts for five weeks in the spring of 1987. As I said, I have no specific memory associated with it, but the melodic guitar and propulsive bassline always appealed to me on a purely sonic level, and hearing it now reminds me of a time and a general emotional background state.

For the record, I don’t recall ever seeing the video before this afternoon, so the imagery of a brooding, leather-jacketed young man in a long red convertible had nothing to do with me liking this tune. Any resemblance to my persona at the age I was when this song came out is purely coincidental…

For a couple years in the mid-80s, my favorite band was Loverboy, the Canadian quintet that recorded the party anthem “Working for the Weekend” and whose lead singer, Mike Reno, was infamous for performing in skin-tight red leather pants. I saw them live in 1986 during their “Lovin’ Every Minute of It” tour… and then somehow I lost track of them for 20 years. Now, like just about every other big arena-rock act from my adolescence, they’re back out there touring again, and I’ve been thinking I’d like to see them a second time. But somehow I keep missing the opportunity. They’ve played Wendover, the Nevada border town a hundred miles west of Salt Lake where the Girlfriend and I go just about every year to see my main man, Rick Springfield (pics from the most recent show here). And I think they played the state fair a couple years back. Missed them both times.

Tonight they’re appearing here in the valley at Usana Amphitheater with Journey and Pat Benatar (another ’80s icon I’d like to see live), but I’m not going to that show either. It’s the Girlfriend’s birthday, you see, and I didn’t want to make her do something I wanted to do on her day, and anyhow we’ve been to Journey a couple times already in recent years, so it just didn’t seem like a huge priority and we were going to talk about it some more, and then all of a sudden the date was upon us, and… well, maybe they’ll play Wendover again sometime soon.

There is a consolation prize, however, in the form of a brand-new Loverboy single and music video I just learned about a couple days ago. The song is called “Heartbreaker” — no relation to Benatar’s “Heartbreaker” — and it’s a cut from the band’s upcoming album Rock N Roll Revival, due to release on August 14. I think this is a great track; I’ve played it at least a dozen times since I stumbled across it. Reno’s voice is still strong (although it doesn’t look like he’ll ever get back into those red leather pants!), the melody is infectious, and the chorus is as instantly repeatable as anything from the band’s heyday. This is the kind of simple, fun song that makes me feel an uncomplicated sense of happiness, especially on a pleasant summer evening when the day’s heat has mellowed into something like a lover’s caress, and the shadows stretch across the road as I make my way home through golden sunlight with the top down…

Just lately, I’ve been teetering on the edge of another one of those funks when I feel like my moment has come and gone, and the Arbiters of Cool have declared all the things I like obsolete and irrelevant, and it’s just as well I don’t have kids because what the hell could I possibly have in common with them at this point? You know, that thing Grampa Simpson was talking about when he said “I used to be with it, but then they changed what it was. Now what I’m with isn’t it, and what’s it seems weird and scary to me.” (You see! A Simpsons reference. How passe’ is that? I hate it when I inadvertently prove my own point!)

But then today, just as the Generation Gap was yawning before me like the Grand Canyon and the edge was crumbling under my feet, onto my morning train stepped a pretty young blonde that I would guess was about seventeen years old. (Must… resist… obvious reference to the Stray Cats song…) She wore jeans that were ripped out at the knees, with red-and-black striped tights beneath, and fingerless knit gloves, and the ubiquitous hoodie. She was the sort of girl I would’ve fallen instantly in love with, once upon a far-off time when I was seventeen myself. She was holding an iPhone on which I could see a video playing, and she was bopping her head along to the accompanying music.

I cringed, because I really wasn’t in the mood to have some inconsiderate Damn Kid(tm) who can’t be bothered to wear headphones foisting her crappy music on me. My irritation rose as she sat down right across the aisle from me and turned her gadget toward me so the music grew even louder. And then I caught what she was listening to… and my mouth almost literally fell open from the surprise. It was something I knew. More than that, it was something I like, a song called “I Need to Know,” written by Tom Petty.

This particular version of the song was a live clip featuring my rock-n-roll sweetheart, the eternally sexy (in my eyes) Stevie Nicks, singing the lead while Petty provides the guitar and back-up vocal. In fact, I think it was this very clip here:

Seeing a teenage girl so obviously and unironically enjoying a song that was originally recorded when I was just a kid myself — 1978, to be exact — performed by two people old enough to be her grandparents, gave me such a simple feeling of genuine happiness that I feel foolish even trying to describe it.

My train stop came up just as the song was ending. I debated over saying something to the girl, telling her that she’d dispelled a black fog from my heart, or maybe just that she had excellent taste in music, but I feared coming across as some kind of creep. (It pains me deeply that a grown man can’t even speak to a young girl anymore without worrying that he’ll be, ahem, misunderstood!) So I settled for just tapping her on the shoulder as I passed and saying, “For what it’s worth, I love that one.”

She giggled. She actually giggled. And I had the brief impression I’d made her day as much as she’d made mine.

Then I stepped off the train and started walking toward the office. I noticed I had something resembling a spring in my step. And I was smiling, too.

Thanks, kid. Whoever you were. You don’t know how much good you did this morning.

So, the Girlfriend and I returned from Hawaii early Sunday morning, and what with a brutal case of jetlag and the disconcerting effects of re-entering the humdrum after 10 days in Fantasyland, well… we both kinda forgot about Valentine’s Day this year. And you know, I’m fine with that. Not that I have anything against Valentine’s per se — the idea of a holiday to celebrate love and romance is fine, in principle — but in practical fact, it’s really just another one of those consumption-oriented holidays on which you feel pressured to spend money you don’t have (especially just after returning from 10 days in the most expensive state in the union!) on stuff you don’t need. Seriously, I have a banker’s box down the Archive filled with little plushy critters that are holding hearts and wearing red t-shirts with endearing messages on them, and they’re all adorable and were much appreciated when I first received them, but now they live in the dark shadows of a box in the basement, no doubt dreaming of the long-ago day when they were plucked from the shelves of the Hallmark store and how everything used to be happy and bright but now that’s all gone, and how sad is that? How can I possibly sentence more innocent plush toys to that Phantom Zone existence? What kind of monster would I be?

Cough. Ahem. Wow. Not sure where that came from. Anyhow, I may be content with not doing much of the traditional V-Day thing today, but I also don’t want to come across as a total curmudgeon on the subject, because I don’t feel all that curmudgeonly about it. So in the spirit of acknowledging the day without really engaging too deeply with it, I’ve got a video I’d like to dedicate to my eternally patient traveling companion (and new roomie!), as well as to all you lovers out there in InternetLand. This is most romantic song I could think of today… well, okay, actually it’s the first song I thought of, but whatever, I think the sentiment still applies… Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone!

It is an interesting (and possibly pathetic — I leave that to your measured judgment) truth about me that I still enjoy most of the musical artists I listened to as a teenager. I’ve expanded my repertoire considerably since then, of course, adding new artists and even whole new genres to the great, swirling mass of music I find pleasing, but unlike many people I know, I’ve never really shed the older stuff… with a handful of exceptions. One of those is the band Styx. Once upon a time, I thought they were the coolest. I had their albums on vinyl and cassette, I wore a t-shirt, I coveted the Velcro-flapped wallet bearing their logo I saw at the state-fair midway booths, the whole she-bang. But at some point over the past 25 years, I just got bored with their sound. Blame the near-constant airplay of “Come Sail Away” on classic-rock radio, I guess.

Even so, there are a couple of old Styx tunes I still like, on the rare occasion I actually hear them anyplace. “Too Much Time on My Hands,” with its insistently throbbing bass line, is a catchy classic, and “Mr. Roboto” is a sublime masterpiece of 1980s kitsch. “Babe” is a lovely romantic ballad. And then there’s “Lorelei,” which is just a damn good rock and roll song. It was originally recorded in 1976, before the music video had fully materialized as a form, so here’s a live performance from 20 years later:

There’s a reason why I chose this particular song for tonight, besides me just plain liking it. The music you most care about is the stuff that resonates, you see, that forms a soundtrack for your life, and that lyric about living together, well… I have an announcement to make.

The woman I refer to here as The Girlfriend, my lovely Anne, is moving in with me tomorrow.

It’s a tremendous step for us both, the first time either of us have lived with a significant other, and it’s long overdue. Embarassingly so. If anyone out there doesn’t already know how many years we’ve been a couple, I’d rather not say, because I am honestly ashamed it’s taken us so long to make a big grown-up move in our relationship. I can’t even fully explain why it’s taken so long, although there’s little question in my mind that it’s mostly my fault. Basically, we found a pattern, and it was comfortable enough, so we stayed there. For years. But now we’re finally moving forward. I’m nervous, but also anticipating nights in front of the fire (I got a gas log for Christmas!) watching crummy old TV shows on DVD, and not feeling like I’m dividing my attention between two households, and all the other little pleasures of cohabiting.

Wish us luck, won’t you? After the way the year has gone so far, we might need it…

In honor of the late, great Etta James, who passed away this morning at the age of 73, here’s her very first hit single and a big favorite of mine, “The Wallflower,” a.k.a. “Roll with Me, Henry,” a.k.a. “Dance with Me, Henry,” from the year 1955:

Not much of a video, I know — although I personally enjoy watching obsolete media technology do its thing — but I couldn’t find any actual clips of James performing the song, and this at least gives you the authentic sound of a nearly 60-year-old recording. The sharp-eared movie aficionado may know this song from Back to the Future — it’s playing in the cafe after Marty decks Biff and runs out with the meatheads in hot pursuit, launching the “skateboard chase” scene. — and it was on the soundtrack album from that flick that I first heard it. So why do I love this song? Well, the Back to the Future connection doesn’t hurt — it’s one of my favorite films, and I listened to that soundtrack a lot back in the day — but mostly it’s just a catchy tune that makes me happy when I hear it, simple as that. Curiously enough, the co-writer and producer of this tune, Johnny Otis, who is often credited with discovering Etta, passed away himself just a few days ago. (He’s probably best known for his own recording of “Willie and the Hand Jive“).

Etta James is most often associated with the song “At Last,” which has become a standard at weddings and was so memorably significant at President Obama’s inaugural ball, and for that record’s sound, she is often thought of as a jazz singer. But she was far more than that. In her time, she performed pop standards, traditional blues, ’60s soul, and even a cover of Guns ‘n’ Roses’ “Welcome to the Jungle” on her final album. It is her work from the ’50s and ’60s that I enjoy most, though. Like so much from that era, it’s just plain good music. As I said, it makes me happy for no reason… and need we ask anything more of our music?

Oh, in case you’re wondering why tonight’s selection has three different titles, it’s because the song’s original name, “Roll with Me, Henry,” was considered a little racy by the standards of 1955, so it was changed to “The Wallflower.” (Interestingly, the lyrics remained intact, probably because they very obviously refer to dancing and not the innuendo that many would assume, but the title was the important thing for preventing radio executives from tossing the demo before they listened to it). In a later cover version by Georgia Gibbs, both the chorus and the title were switched for the less controversial “Dance with Me, Henry.” Those were very different times, to put it mildly.

The previous video reminded me of something a couple friends turned me onto a while back, which I’ve been meaning to post but just haven’t gotten around to. It’s another live performance, this time by a musician named Johnathan Coulton. I’m not at all familiar with him — I gather he’s an indie artist with a pretty sizable cult following — but the song is catchy and seems to have benign intentions, i.e., Coulton doesn’t sound like he’s being cruel toward my main man despite the (apparently) humorous nature of the lyrics. It’s hard to tell for sure since it’s sung in French and I don’t know French, but… well, I’ll let Johnathan himself explain what it’s about:

One thing I particularly appreciate about this (and which I assume is deliberate) is how much it sounds like… a Rick Springfield song! No, really, the guitar tone here is very similar to Rick’s own audio signature, the same sound you hear on “Jessie’s Girl,” among many others. I like that sound, obviously, and I liked it so much in this song that I was fully prepared to purchase one of those new-fangled download thingies until I learned the album recording is somewhat different. Maybe Coulton will release another version with that deep, early-80s thrum that I love so much. In the meantime, enjoy this one as we roll on past midnight, chasing after the early morning hours…

Between working in an understaffed office populated by inconsiderate ignoramuses and presided over by a hard-headed old skinflint, and a bad case of a medical condition called “positional vertigo,” The Girlfriend has been suffering through a truly craptacular week. So I’m going to dedicate this week’s music video to her, in the hopes that it will provide a little comfort. Or at least make her smile for a second.

“It’s Always Something” is a 1999 song by our mutual main man that gradually over the years has become one of my all-time favorites of his. Yes, it’s right up there with “Jessie’s Girl” in my book, believe it or not. I find a lot of meaning and resonance in this tune, and also a genuine sense of optimism that I often have trouble generating on my own. Just like Rick Springfield himself I would guess, based on what I’ve learned about him in the past 12 months. It’s a great song, in my humble opinion, one that in a more just universe would’ve been a tremendous hit. As it is, though, I didn’t even hear it until a couple of years after it came out. C’est la vie, I guess, and certainly right in line with the song’s own ironic narrative.

This isn’t a music video per se; it’s a live performance clip from a concert Rick gave earlier this year, so unfortunately you get the shaky-cam effect and the sound is kind of dodgy in places. But it’s the best clip I could find, and Anne knows the lyrics anyhow…

If any of the Loyal Readers out there don’t know the lyrics and can’t decipher them from the video (and also give a damn), you can find them in an earlier entry I wrote about this song…