Every time I feel like making a post these days, I also feel as though I ought to preface said post with some sort of apology to you, the gentle reader, no doubt eagerly awaiting some new and exciting ideas to be discussed in my inimitable style (again, I jest). I am still caught in a strange period of my life where I feel, remarkably enough, happy, and don't have the gumption to continue the tradition of deep, confessional stories and poems. Perhaps those days will come again, but not today my friend. *

I've often wondered what the strong appeal of Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd is. In particular, it seems to me that a lot of people with an interest in '70s rock tend to rate these two as their favourites. It's hard to resist the urge to broadly divide music listeners into some categories - we have the true eclectics, who'll listen to anything you throw at their faces. There are moderate eclectics, who usually fall into one of the other categories primarily, but can drift out on ocassion. There are those who very much follow modern music in any shape or form. There's people, like myself, totally immersed in acts from decades long past. And then there are those who love Zeppelin and Floyd! A bit facetious perhaps, but I got this impression after reading a letter in Rolling Stone from a teen who was complaining about how music these days was nothing like what it was in the '70s, for instance, how it's nothing like Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd. I found out today that a cousin also loves Zeppelin and Floyd. It struck me that I've seen many such comments from youngsters who believe Zeppelin are the greatest band ever, and it struck me as strange that a lot of them also seemed to like Floyd.

I suppose what I'm really asking is, is this trend of worshipping Zeppelin and Floyd indicative of importance placed on some specific aspect of the '70s, or rock in general? It's only natural that there are die-hard fanatics for pretty much every band in existence, but why I'm curious is that, on first glance, Zeppelin and Floyd don't have all that much in common (except that they were both active in the '70s).

I should add that I'm not claiming they're unworthy of praise and appreciation, far from it. I can't say I'm any sort of authoritative expert on either group, but I like them both, or at least whatever little I've heard.

The whole thing sounds a bit nonsensical, but it's hard to say just what I mean. This is one of those things where I wish I were better at expressing very muddy, vague concepts.

* A few years ago, when the Grateful Dead were the only band in the world for me, I was lucky to see a "making-of" documentary about their most famous album, American Beauty. In it, Robert Hunter said something that has stayed with me ever since. He spoke eloquently and beautifully about the time he went to London, this magical, mystical place that had forever captured his imagination. It was just wonderful how he said that the fact that he was in this place that he had thought of so romantically all his life allowed him to write three of his (in my opinion) greatest compositions, one of them being "Ripple", all in the same night. In particular, he related the tale of the night where he wrote these lyrics, with a bottle of red wine by his side, and then lamented at those immortal days being long gone. He said "I wonder if days like that will ever come again. Hmm. I'm sure they will. But not for me". All with a smile on his face.