Robert Plant
Carry Fire

“We wish to make it known that the loss of our dear friend and the profound sense of respect we hold for his family have led us to decide - in complete harmony with each other and our manager - that we cannot continue as we were” (December 4, 1980)

This was the press statement that marked the end of Led Zeppelin following the death of John Henry Bonham. Behind these official words are feelings difficult to understand, especially where so much money is involved: a tight and solid bond between the four, immense respect for the musician and the person, an alchemy from a human and musical perspective such that if one of the four was removed, everything would change, and above all, a great friendship. Anyone else (and all other bands, as they demonstrate, would have continued by changing drummers, making records and concerts, and collecting money - despite the “stingy” Page - see “The Who” with what I consider a real outrage to Keith Moon).

And friendship came, first of all, from Plant. Because these two boys, peers, knew each other before Led Zeppelin. Both were part, still teenagers, of the mid-sixties Black Country scene, the Midlands area and particularly Birmingham. Here Robert and John played in many bands and found themselves together in both “The Crawling King Snakes” and “Band of Joy.” It was Robert who recommended his friend John Bonham as drummer to Page for the “New Yarbirds.”

How strange destiny is; after many bands and some 45s completely ignored, Robert was decidedly demotivated. He had given himself a “deadline” like “if I can't achieve a bit of success by the age of twenty, I'll quit” and the “deadline” was approaching.

Yes, how strange destiny is; Page had contacted important names like Marriott and Winwood for the frontman position in the new band, but they were already engaged. So he contacted a promising eighteen-year-old singer, Terry Reid, who “had to” decline because he had just signed a contract as a solo artist. However, Reid had met Plant a few months earlier and recommended him to Page. So Page and Grant went to see Plant with his latest band, the “Hobbstweedle,” in concert in a dilapidated college for teachers near Birmingham. Pagey instantly fell for it “Just listening to him made me nervous” he would later say “even now it happens; it’s like a primordial groan.”

How beautiful destiny is; Robert was about to turn twenty in those days and, from the concrete possibility of quitting everything, instead found himself part of the band with the most explosive start in Rock history. He and Bonzo, in just over a year, went from Birmingham pubs to international stars on the gilded roof of rock’n’roll.

The last years of Robert had been tremendous: from the terrible car accident in Greece to the dramatic death of his son Karac. These tragedies amidst a life on the road, in the most important rock band of the time with all the associated delusions of grandeur, experiencing the most varied emotions: exaltation and depression, excitement, and the desire to escape from everything and everyone. Twelve years of unique intensity. The death of a friend is the last blow. Grant and Page (in decidedly borderline psychological conditions) give up everything, Jones retreats into his quiet family life.

For Robert, the loss of his friend is unbearable. He withdraws with his family into his Midlands without setting goals. Slowly, the desire to sing emerges again, but he had to do it by severing ties with his grand, burdensome past, repudiating the rockstar status; with a minibus and some local blues musicians, he starts touring small concerts. Great Man!

However, I didn’t know any of this during the eighties. I had just “discovered” my musical love, and what does he do?! Starts a solo career denigrating the past (this is what I wanted to see, obviously). He didn't perform songs of the band and outright rejected any possibility of reunion.

The years pass, adolescent intolerance ends, character intolerance softens and finally, I understand Robert. And I have thanked him for many years, for the person he has shown himself to be in the most diverse situations. Post-Zeppelin Plant is a very humble, down-to-earth, generous, and altruistically incredible person; the opposite of the unreachable rockstar, “rightfully” arrogant and full of himself, that blonde demigod with curls and tight pants with the package proudly displayed for noble maidens. Situations change and intelligent people naturally adapt to changes.

These are the qualities I most recognize in Robert’s career. I’ve never gone crazy for any of his albums, to be clear, and in his first decade, there were quite a few gaudy pieces in perfect “eighties” style (even the look is ridiculous).

But it is not easy to want to free yourself from something you did that is bigger than you. His “leave the Led Zeppelin alone, I am Robert Plant” was much easier said than done.

After this long period, in my opinion, Robert has grown tremendously as a man and as an artist. Exactly when he understood that both Led Zeppelin's frontman and solo Robert Plant could coexist, he did the most beautiful and interesting things; getting back together (in every sense) with Pagey in the nineties, re-presenting Led Zeppelin songs, and collaborating with a wide array of artists for various projects.

Since he no longer worries about stripping away the myth he was and for which he will always, first of all, be remembered, Robert has a visible serenity, a desire, and pleasure in playing superior to that of a young man, and above all, many ideas. Robert is almost seventy and we cannot expect his voice to be what it was in the seventies; however, Plant now interprets each piece differently he now uses his voice as he wants and feels... perhaps once it was his voice that used him.

Class and charm: these are the two words that best convey what I think of “Carry Fire.”

A beautiful album in which at every moment, these two nouns fit perfectly.

You can find the indelible imprint of how much Robert is attached to folk and ethnic music.

He and Page already, at the time of Led Zeppelin, were fascinated by these sounds, famous were their trips to Morocco and India to study music and play with local musicians, and regarding folk, nothing needs to be specified, just know the band. Page loved to describe his Celtic, Indian, and Asian interests as the “CIA” (and I add African) and it frustrated him when he was boxed within the narrow circle of hard rock or blues.

Of course, in Led Zeppelin, these were (almost) always overshadowed by the impetuous rock. If we take “Kashmir” or “The Battle Of Evermore” we have an idea of everything.

A rock-folk album in all its geographical nuances (Welsh, Celtic, American, African, and Asian) with a bit of blues and country and with an atmosphere that is sometimes more ethnic and sometimes more American. An active, moving folk, even psychedelic at certain moments, a sound that surprises you with (almost) every track with a taste for light experimentation, without gaudy excesses.

I was saying so much class, with his voice enveloping us, sometimes whispering more than singing with the intensity I have always shown. Robert is old, he has become wise and is at peace with himself, and his magnificent voice seems to have followed the same journey.

There are no prominently standout tracks; the album is a pleasant puzzle to be listened to entirely. There isn’t a hit that alone is worth as much as the entire journey of the record.

And so to each, even more than usual, different tracks may appeal. I can mention the initial ethnic rock mantra (well, invented here) with his warm voice in “The Mary Queen,” the sweet “Season’s Song,” the oriental title track, the guitars and rhythmic pace of “New World,” the peculiar blues of “Carning Up The World Again,” with an “old times” voice and the revisitation of a fifties track “Bluebirds Over The Mountain,” where melody and atmosphere blend perfectly, featuring guest Chrissie Hynde.

All with the “Sensational Space Shifters” which accompany excellently.

A journey around the world, to the most diverse places, that's where Robert takes us. A (almost) seventy-year-old offering us an album of extreme beauty and above all, a rarity, with many ideas.

A great man who could live off the profits without “worrying” about giving us new things, and instead, he has a light spirit and manages, naturally, to give us these prestigious gems.

What was I saying?! Class and charm indeed.

Thank you, Robert, the hippy, the “peace and love” of Led Zeppelin, as I have always liked to call you; seeing you calm and happy is a wonderful thing.