Zeptoons, Part 2

On to the second part of my Zeptoons series.

There is much more to explore on Deviantart, including these toons by artist and writer electricsorbet, who, like her compatriot Nicola Rivka, mines LZ and other bands for worshipful and often satirical content. In her art she concentrates on the darker side of LZ: Jimmy’s heroin addiction. In this series, started but not finished, Jimmy passes out with his Nazi officer’s hat over his eyes and Robert and John Paul Jones are flummoxed about what to do.

Over the course of the panels the comatose Jimmy is bundled into a taxi and “thumps” into the side of the door. Strangely, her style doesn’t include any eyes for the boys.

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Zeptoons, Part 1

Now we come to the part of Zep May I have been so excited about. Zeptoons! Done by fans, in loving homage to the band.

Artwork by T. Collins

The one above depicts an incident from a real-life concert where live doves were released, one happening to fly right into Robert’s hand. But the artist turns it into more of an attack by live doves. Peter Grant runs away, spilling money, as a dove poops on his head. John Paul Jones seems a tad alarmed as well. Bonzo is amused, while Jimmy, who can’t see because of his hair, plays on, one dove playing air guitar in response. All caricatures, but funny. A little Icarus figure is even flying overhead. It’s a good-natured ribbing of the band.

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Jimmy’s Stage Threads

Clothing generated in AI, no foolin’

Jimmy ordered these suits for the second half of Led Zeppelin’s 1977 American tour, but they were never worn because that leg of the tour was cancelled. They’ve since been preserved for posterity, along with his Dragon suit, at the Met.

No, not really.

 

Zepfics: Short Stories [Review]

No, Robert Plant did not really draw this Jimbert (Robert x Jimmy) pairing on the chalkboard. Some clever Photoshopping did that.

Angels Losing Sleep, by Leah
Part 1,  Part 2,  Part 3

Ten years ago Livejournal had a short-lived Zepfic community, which in turn had replaced an earlier one that was short-lived; from the more recent one (active 2011-2014) I read this story. Zepfics have a rich range of real-life conflicts and tragedies to hang their plots on, and this story concerned the death of Robert Plant’s son, Karac, in 1977. The event caused the second half of their American tour to be cancelled and Robert to seriously evaluate his life and whether or not he would continue with the band. But there wasn’t any of that in here. It was a Jimbert pairing and so was about the relationship. Which was fine, I can go for Jimbert any day, as far as Zepfics go. But using the death of a real-life child to portray domestic displays of support and affection between the pair went too far for even for my somewhat unprincipled tastes. I couldn’t suspend my sense of disbelief that Robert wouldn’t be more devastated than he was; he’s more concerned for Jimmy, who’s withdrawing from heroin at the same time. It’s presented to the reader as Jimmy’s way of supporting Robert in his hour of grief; but, bad timing, dude.

The fic also features a character assassination of long-suffering Maureen Plant as she rails at Robert for bringing his gay lover to their son’s funeral. Not nice.

Nearing the Close of the First Era, QueenBoudica1770

Heroin rears it white, ugly head again in this story, where, instead of the 1977 American tour cutting off because of a family death, the tour continues with Jimbert going full throttle, up to the night Jimmy ODs on smack with the needle hanging out of his arm! Oh noes!! (He survives, but the tour stops.)

QueenBoudica1770 is a prolific and imaginative writer who has almost 50 Zepfics to her credit on AOW, and though this story doesn’t stand out and is mawkish at times (during his recovery Jimmy gets mad at Robert and throws a tchotchke at him, knocking Robert clean out and causing much angst from Jimmy) I enjoyed it enough to read it again. There are some wacky, creative touches here, like Richard Cole appearing in a jeweled thong and John Paul Jones trying to CPR Jimmy back to life.

The story also spotlights Jimmy’s heroin chic, which is an essential part of his fanon character. Wan and drawn, pale and otherworldly, rail-thin with hipbones jutting — he’s like a helpless faerie prince in need of rescue. Sexed yet sexless, Heroin Jimmy is the ultimate bad boy in need of being saved from himself. It’s a potent narcotic for a certain kind of female.

In the Light, AshesToAshes77

This fic begins like it should be about heroin too, but Jimmy’s just depressed. Restless, he putters around his hotel room, then decides to take a bath, and who should come in but Robert, who tries to get him to talk about what’s troubling him. It turns out, it’s because Jimmy feels he’s letting the band down because he hurt his hand (a real-life incident on one of the tours) and can’t play as well as he should. Awww!

It sounds like I’m making fun of the story, but I’m not. It was a very good description of someone mired in ennui and unable to snap out of it, wondering why his emotions seem so blunted. And who wouldn’t want Robert to attend to your bath, washing your hair and assuring you everything will be all right and that he’ll never leave you, no matter what?

Post-coital bliss? Artwork by Vltraviolet.

The Needle and the Damage Done, electricsorbet
(The link is to the first chapter, the others can be accessed through here.)

Electricsorbet is a Deviantart fanfic writer and artist with a fetish for Heroin Jimmy. There’s not only a cartoon series about it on her site, but also a darkfic, this aptly named one, which is hypnotic in its intensity and features some pretty damn good writing. The Zep are touring again and Robert, as usual, is worried about Jimmy’s addiction, I mean really worried. But he won’t confront Jimmy directly about it and Jimmy won’t talk, either. That’s all the story of 11 chapters is, the skirting of the issue, the false justifications, the desire not to make waves. Finally one night Jimmy gives in to Robert’s concern, there’s some kinky sex, and Jimmy comes down; it seems the problem’s solved, for now.

This is another fic with magnificent literary writing and for once, I could picture the band members really thinking, acting, and doing what they do as English men born of a certain era and place. The only time I went “hmm?” was when the smaller and frailer Jimmy violently pushes Robert into a closet, which I couldn’t see happening. But otherwise, I was there, drinking and smoking with the members and being onstage with Robert and Jimmy as they perform in conjunction with each other. I bet the author studied a hell of a lot of concert footage!

I’ll be posting more of electricsorbet’s Zeptoons later.

A drug-ravaged Jimmy gives Robert some ideas. Artwork by electricsorbet.

Down to the Sea, QueenBoudica1770

I read a second Zepfic by QueenBoudica1770 just on the strength of its premise: in Medieval England, Jimmy, an orphaned fisherman, catches a merman in his net one day, Robert! Jimmy realizes Robert has been helping him out by driving fish into his net. An affair follows which is more earthy than the cozy, ethereal sex that usually happens between the two. As usual no one in the story questions the gay element.

What makes this story interesting is how it spins off into fantasy, the author putting her own seal on mermaid myths. Her Robert merman is tall and strapping, but has sharp pointy teeth, superhuman strength, and a fish tail that peels away and sheds when he is on land, giving him legs. He’s also his own creature; if you went into this story blind, without knowing it was a Zepfic, you wouldn’t be able to tell. That to me is a mark of good writing right there. The Zepfic functions as a way of giving fans a little extra fun, the ambience recalling the Physical Graffiti song “Down by the Seaside.”

I thought the story would be a one-off but it spun off into multiple chapters before it ends at a climactic scene — James has been kidnapped by an evil group of merman who also hold Robert’s daughter by a human woman, and their plan is to take over the merman kingdom, and Robert, along with some elves, his ex-lover, and the Bonzo and John Paul Jones characters, are attacking them on a bridge. Boy can this author write a good action scene. I’m even going to prod her finish the tale, something I don’t usually do on the site.

I couldn’t find Robert as a merman, but I found Jimmy! Catch of the day. Artwork by MarauderofWorlds.

Kashmir, ledbythreads

This Zepfic was one of the serious ones, a literary mood piece rather than a narrative. It’s the 1990s and Jimmy and Robert are giving press interviews in Japan for their Unledded tour. A young Middle Eastern music journalist, Naz, comes in to talk to them, and they both get turned on, by the reporter and by each other. The old affair, given up in the 1970s, flames back to life.

“And now you are – back together. But you have never entirely been apart, right?”

“We have an open marriage.”

Maybe the slightest stumble but Naz takes the pass smoothly. A sight smile. He gets out a yellow legal pad. Like Cameron, all those years ago. But he’s not a boy. Not at all the cub reporter. He turns to Jimmy without making Robert feel the connection shift. He’s good at his job. It’s reassuring, that competence. That deft touch.

I’m quoting because I like the descriptions of  body language so much, and the double meaning of “old marriage” to mean a musical partnership and a sexual one. Tension continues to shimmer and the two wind up involving the young man in a threesome. It also has this gem of a line (from Jimmy, referring to Robert) “Rarely touching him openly, as he wanted to. Only with sound.”

This one bears repeat reading.

Artwork by Nicola Rivka

It Suits Bonzo Well

 

John Paul Jones, John Bonham, Los Angeles Forum. Photo by Jim Marshall, 25 June 1972.

In spite all of John Bonham’s drunken misbehavior on tour it’s impossible to find any picture of him where he looks caught in the act.  Robert and Jimmy mug and often get snapped in less-than-flattering poses, and John Paul Jones can look ridiculous on occasion, but Bonham just hangs. It’s like he doesn’t want to give anything away, or wants to give the impression he’s just there for the job. Maybe, given the emotional discomfort he experienced on tour, he really didn’t want to be there.

This pic, however, shows him in some outrageous suit whose era is unclear, as well as a safari pith hat and the type of shoes once known in England as “brothel creepers.”  Even in this he keeps his dignity.

Zepfics: A History

Left to right: John Paul Jones, John Bonham, Robert Plant, Jimmy Page. In keeping with their fanon characters Bonham is hulking, Robert hippy and chill, Jimmy grumpy and concentrating on a riff, and Jonesy just there. Artwork by Kevin Roualland.

I became aware of Led Zeppelin fanfic in the late 1990s when the web exploded with archive sites. To say I was surprised would be an understatement. I’d known of Star Trek fanfic for years, and Buffy,  X-files, and Xena fanfic sites were all over the place. But Zep fanfic was a new thing, especially as most of it concerned Robert bonking Jimmy, or vice versa. I deemed it too potent to examine more closely at the time.

Now, 25 years later, it is still going strong, helped by a revival of interest in Classic Rock fandom from those young enough to be grandchildren of the bands in question.

A word about Classic Rock, or simply Classic, fandom. It’s one that centers on the rock bands of the 1960s through the 1990s and their aesthetic, for this fandom has as many artists as writers. It’s born from a hunger for the nostalgia of an earlier time, good music and larger-than-life characters. The 60s bands are the most prominent, but it can include anyone featured on a Classic Rock radio station, podcast, or playlist.

I thought that the origins of Zepfic lay in great fannish explosion of the late 1990s, but truth is, it’s more complicated than that.

Fan conventions began to be held in the 1980s. This one was in New Jersey to draw the greater NYC urban crowd.

According to my research, the first Zepfics arose in the late 1970s, even before the band had broken up. The stories were typewritten and circulated among fangroups and Zep APAs (amateur press associations) throughout the 1980s and early 1990s. When email and listserves came along fans took advantage, and for a while both formats, hardcopy and digital, existed side by side. Still, the material was available only to a few in the know.

When newsgroups, then specialized writer and archive sites, came along in the mid 1990s, all sorts of fandom caught fire, including Zepfics. But because the fandom was about real people doing fictional (and often naughty) things, it was classified under RPF – real person fanfic, and looked down upon by the fannish standards of the time. A sort of red-headed stepchild, as it were. Reasons given were the threat of lawsuits from the fanfic subjects, or the writer’s  supposed lack of respect towards the subjects who were written doing things they surely never would in real life. Invasion of the subject’s dignity and privacy was another issue. Such stories were routinely prefaced with disclaimers from the authors. Even so, Fanfiction.net, the premier fanfic site of the time, eventually banned all RPF stories in 2002. Luckily, Archiveofourown has taken up the banner.

In the early days Zepfic writing, a whopper of a series called Tris and Alex came out. Robert Plant and Jimmy Page in all but name, the series was created by Nancy Arena and Pam Rose in the 1980s and detailed the twosome’s slashy adventures in a thinly disguised LZ analog called Paradox. The stories were circulated in typewritten form; a few were published in fanzines. The series was an unsung pioneer and I’m sure I would have gone gaga for it if I had gotten my hands on it way back when. Eventually, the series made its way to AoW where I’ll be reading them when time allows.

Decades the megaseries spawned a similar one called, colloquially, Farm Frolics, showing the strength of the pairing. The plotline is similar: Robert and Jimmy declare their love for each other, marry, retreat to a country estate, and have lots of sex. This time, the names were undisguised. (I will be reading that one too.)

What makes fics like this so appealing is the sheer physical beauty of the two men, the contrast of personalities they project, their yin-yang of light and dark. Add to that the drama of fateful accidents, drug addiction, supposed occult doings, and the dark, downward trek of their career — add in the intimacy of creating and playing some of rock’s best music together — and you’ll know why.

I am 100% certain there are many, many more unpublished and uncirculated Zepfics in the same vein, perhaps disowned by their writers sine then as being “immature” or “silly.” Which is silly.

Fantasy is fantasy. It’s not to be policed.

Led Zeppelin: The Biography [Review]

Led Zeppelin: The Biography

by Bob Spitz
Penguin Press, 2021

When the first Led Zeppelin biography, Hammer of the Gods, by Stephen Davis, was published in 1985, it caused a sensation. Riding on the coattails of the equally sensationalistic No One Here Gets Out Alive, the Jim Morrison autobiography published in 1980 that caused a Doors revival, Hammer of the Gods bared to the world the debaucheries behind Led Zeppelin’s cooler-than-shit façade. Such as the groupie/mud shark tale which happened right here in Seattle, at the Edgewater Inn. I had read Hammer of the Gods even before I moved to Seattle, and can say for sure the book confirmed the many sordid stories I’d read hints of from the rock and roll magazines of my high school days.

Except, not really. Much in that book was claimed as exaggeration or fabrication. The authors relied on the recollections of Richard Cole, Led Zep’s ex-roadie, who had a motive to sell them out: money. The Zep members denounced it, in the same way the Beatles denounced the memoir of their first manager Allan Williams, who wrote about their wild times in the Reeperbahn District music clubs of Hamburg. (That book,  too, set off a wave of retro Beatlemania.)

Led Zeppelin: The Biography doesn’t entirely avoid the sensationalism, which is too bad. But it’s also a much more thorough history, and for the most part avoids the snark of Hammer which was considered essential in rock journalism at the time. (The otherwise excellent Beatles bio Shout! The Beatles in Their Generation also had this problem.) For that alone I rate the book highly.

Indeed, if you read only one Led Zep biography, read this one. Everything is there, who did what and when and where, enabling the reader to connect the dots to a wider range of players in the music industry and how they all interacted. Dusty Springfield, for example, rated John Paul Jones so highly a session player on her albums that a chance remark by her let the band to secure a highly favorable record deal.

Even better, the business machine behind the band is laid bare, making it a case study in music management 101. Manager Peter Grant receives a strong case for being the unlauded fifth member of the group. Grant didn’t discover them like Epstein did the Beatles. He accrued them because he managed the Yardbirds who Jimmy had first played with, and, impressed with his talent, stole the proto-Zeppelin out from under Micky Most’s nose. How hard of a sell Jimmy did on Grant the book doesn’t say, but I’d bet his talent spoke for itself. It was only through Grant’s unwavering faith and strong-armed tactics the group became the powerhouse it was, along with the casual connections, lucky encounters, and twists of fate. Everything just clicked into place.

The book also gets right what Hammer did not. Page’s family did not own a car dealership in the Epsom section of London, he came from humbler beginnings. The band did not call them themselves the Nobs for a gig in Scandinavia because it was slang for balls, but because it was the name of an associate of theirs. The mud shark incident did not involve the Zep band members; it was conceived by Richard Cole and Carmine Appice, the drummer for Vanilla Fudge. Though that they watched and did nothing to stop it was questionable; whether there was anything to be stopped the book leaves up in the air, leaving the reader to decide if it was sexual assault on an out-of-it victim or willing participants in raunchy play.

Which to me was the biggest fault of the book, rehashing those old incidents at face value. Though the author adds moralizing from a present day viewpoint, no new spin is put on them. For example, in  one part it’s hinted that underage groupie Lori Maddox (I’m using the earlier spelling of her name) was pimped by her mother to bag a rock star, but this is not explored any further, which is a shame. In fact none of the female associates of the band are explored in any depth. This might be an omission of the author’s, or the women might have been unwilling to talk. But one day I hope to hell to see the band’s history told from the viewpoint of the wives, girlfriends, and female associates of the band.

Also mildly annoying was the reinteration of the phrase “do as though wilt” — a saying of Aleister Crowley, an occult figure Jimmy had a fascination with — at certain times whenever the band does a morally questionable thing. But basic reading of Crowley and Thelema shows that it doesn’t mean do all the evil you possibly can without fear of reprisal. That’s the meaning Spitz put upon it. What it does mean is a sort of self-actualization, in the form of cause and effect. Which must have attractive to the young Jimmy Page who claims he read one of Crowley’s books around the age of 11.

The in-depth basic information makes the book very readable for a newbie, but for Zep aficionados there are many new revelations. Like how Swan Song records, the band’s vanity label, passed on rock groups Heart and Queen because everyone running the label was too drugged and apathetic to run it properly. Post-Zep history is barely touched on, but then that would require a whole other book.

Comparing the book to Mick Wall’s 2008 When Giants Walked the Earth, also a very thorough biography, I’d say Spitz’s book comes out better, though it’s missing the personal touches of the band member’s lives. Though not the “you are [insert band member’s name]” fanfic chapter preludes, which had me cringing in secondhand embarrassment for the writer. In spite of that I enjoyed the book, but the Spitz book does the history better.

The book includes about two dozen well-chosen photos, among them a lovely pic of a very young Jimmy and Jeff Beck tuning their guitars, courtesy of one Linda Eastman, later known as Linda McCartney.

After all that I am seriously zepp’d out.  But at some point I’ll continue on with a Jimmy Page biography I started.

Johning his Paul until it Joneses

Led Zeppelin bass player/keyboardist John Paul Jones, at home, early 1970s.

Percy’s Bustle in the Hedgerow

Robert Plant pretends to be the May Queen

Art generated in AI

If there’s a bustle in your hedgerow, don’t be alarmed now
It’s just a spring clean for the May Queen

Jimmy Page’s Pants

Cartoon by Nicola Rivka. I’ll post some more of her stuff when I get around to Zeptoons.