The Rover

'When you're down and confused, and you can't remember who you're talking to' is a nice line from Stephen Stills, but when it looms for you, like when you really do feel like that, a little confused, a little down, and you're back home, what do you do?
'Put Planet Rock on, it'll cheer you up!' says Julie, helpfully, and looking at me doing dinner. I realise that this is when rock n' roll really counts. To cheer me up it takes Nicky Horne (who I suspect is now a wholly owned subsidiary of Joe Bonomassa (born 1977!) Inc but who once at least  INTRODUCED Led Zeppelin at Earls Court in 1975?!) and still hangs a wilting flower for free something or other, to play The Rover. I first heard The Rover over a school lunchtime in Paul Smith's family lounge (not that Paul Smith) at about that time of man. Rick Sanders was there too. We had Paul's Morris Minor outside in which he practised speed shifts to get us to the girls school, but today it was duffel coats in the hall.
What a fucking record. I love this record, it's the record to make sauces to, to cook onions, it's the swagger and the riff. And when you are doing this, you are really doing Air Guitar!
(Of course we might discuss other various air guitar possibilities and their place in saving your soul, but for that, keep logging in).
I play the lead through The Rover, but only the rhythm on Freebird (the Horne plays that next). You should only play the rhythm air guitar on Freebird, and I wish some of my students knew their arse from their elbow.
The picture is me, air Zep, unfortunately looking a bit Bad Co, Bethnal Green Working Man's Club,  a few years ago. Photo Julie.