Houses of the Holy

by Obnoxio the Clown

Bella’s post about “Achilles’ Last Stand” was curiously evocative for me.

I think I must have been about eight years old, visiting my grandparents, when the youngest of my mother’s brothers introduced me to real music.

And I have such strong memories, even now, of lying on the carpet (a hideous ’70s concoction of browns and oranges, occupied by heavy, dark wood furniture with green and beige fabric) looking at the cover of Houses of the Holy and trying to figure out what the hell was going on with those naked children climbing up the rocks. It was a beautiful sunny day and there were loads of kids running around outside, but somehow I was completely mesmerised by this strange music. Up until then, I’d only ever been exposed to ’60s and ’70s pop (and pap!) but this was alien and strange and very, very different.

It started off conventionally enough, apart from Robert Plant’s curious voice and the fact that the music was somehow better, more interesting than anything I’d ever heard.

And then there was this melancholy, wistful song. I’d heard any number of corny “slow songs” but this was just … different. It wasn’t cheesy. Everything was just so clear, so foreign to my young ears. But so bewitching.

And whereas I’d normally have moved off to do something different, I stayed and listened to the whole album. Track after track of something that grabbed me. I didn’t get tired of it.

But while there are some great tracks on the album, one stood out for me above all the rest:

It was scary. A song had never scared me before. I was freaked out. Sitting in a room with the doors open to let a breeze run through the house, sunlight streaming in through the windows and my mind was filled with snow and cold and terrible dangers and fear and dark Norse deeds.

Eventually the album finished and I did go run around outside.

But something changed forever that day. Houses of the Holy made me take music seriously, it made me realise that music could be something other than a background noise.

There are other Zep albums I like more, there are albums by other artists I like more, but I can’t remember where I heard them the first time.

Houses of the Holy will always be special to me, because it was the first time I really listened to real music.

Introduction

We’re hoping that there’ll be plenty of content on this site in the days, weeks and months to come, but we’re realistically aiming for the weekend as our first day with original content.

But since this is a music blog, we’d feel a little naked going that long without posting even a solitary song. So, here’s some studied Sheffield sweetness from the esteemed songsmith Richard Hawley.