
Dave Schulps, senior editor of Trouser Press, spent more than six
hours with Page, one of the longest interviews Page ever did. The interview
was scheduled to happen on the East Coast after the band's 1977 MSG gigs, but
Page was too tired to talk. So Swan Song put Schulps on their chartered jet
with the and flew him to California. Schulps ended up snagging the guitarist
on three separate occasions a few days later in Beverly Hills. The interviews
took place at the Beverly Hilton Hotel, on June 16 and 17, 1977, while the
band had a brief break from touring. The discussion concluded on June 19, 1977
following a show earlier that night in San Diego.


DS:  What were your ambitions as a young guitarist? You kept out of
     the limelight for quite a while, not playing with any groups except Neil
     Christian until you joined the Yardbirds.

JP:  Very early, once I started getting a few chords and licks
     together, I did start searching feverishly for other musicians to play 
     with, but I couldn't find any. It wasn't as though there was an 
     abundance. I used to play in many groups... anyone who could get a gig
     together, really.

DS:  This is before you joined Neil Christian?

JP:  Just before Neil Christian. It was Neil Christian who saw me playing in a
     local hall and suggested that I play in his band. It was a big thing
     because they worked in London, whereas I was from the suburbs. So there I
     was, the 15-year-old guitarist marching into London with his guitar case.
     I played with him for a couple of years.

DS:  Did he have a big local reputation at the time?

JP:  In an underground sort of way. We used to do Chuck Berry and Bo Diddley
     numbers, bluesy things, before the blues really broke. In fact, half the
     reason I stopped playing with Neil Christian was because I used to get 
     very ill on the road, glandular fever, from living in the back of a van.
     We were doing lots of traveling, the sort of thing I'm used to doing now.
     I was very undernourished then. It wasn't working right either; people
     weren't appreciating what we were doing. At that time they wanted to hear
     Top 20 numbers. I guess you could put pretty much akin to the pre-Beatles
     period in America, except that this was a couple of years before that. I 
     was at art college for 18 months after I left Neil Christian, which was
     still before the Stones formed, so that dates it back a way. The numbers
     we were doing were really out of character for the audiences that were
     coming to hear us play, but there was always five or ten percent, mostly
     guys, who used to get off on what we were doing because they were into
     those things themselves as guitarists, record collectors. You'll find 
     that nearly all the guitarists that came out of the '60s were record
     collectors of either rock or blues. I used to collect rock and my friend
     collected blues.

DS:  Did you swap?

JP:  He wouldn't have any white records in his collection. He was a purist. I
     remember going up to a blues festival in the back of a van the first time
     a big blues package tour came to England. That was the first time I met
     Mick Jagger and Keith Richards... pre-Stones.

DS:  Were you into the blues as much as the Stones of was it more rock'n'roll
     for you?

JP:  I was an all-arounder, thank God.

DS:  Do you think that's helped your career?

JP:  Immensely. I think if I was just labeled a blues guitarist I'd have never
     been able to lose the tag. When all the guitarists started to come
     through in America - like Clapton, Beck, and myself - Eric, being the 
     blues guitarist, had the label. People just wanted to hear him play
     blues. I saw the guitar as a multifaceted instrument and this has stayed
     with me throughout. When you listen to the various classical guitarists
     like Segovia and Julian Bream, brilliant classical players, and Manitas
     de Plata doing flamenco, it's totally different approaches to acoustic.
     Then there's Django Reinhardt and that's another approach entirely.

     In those early days I was very interested in Indian music, as were a lot 
     of other people too. Most of the "textbook" of what I was forced to learn
     was while I was doing sessions, though. At that point you never knew what
     you were going to be doing when you got to the session. In America, you
     were a specialist. For example, you would never think of Steve Cropper to
     do a jazz session or film session or TV jingles, but in Britain you had
     to do everything. I had to do a hell of a lot of work in a short time. I
     still don't really read music, to be honest with you. I read it like a
     six-year-old reads a book, which was adequate for sessions, and I can 
     write it down, which is important.

DS:  What was your first guitar?

JP:  It was called a Grazioso. It was a Fender copy. Then I got a Fender, an 
     orange Gretsch Chet Atkins hollow body, and a Gibson stereo which I 
     chucked after two days for a Les Paul Custom which I stuck with until I 
     had it stolen... or lost by T.W.A.

DS:  What got you into guitar playing? You listened to a lot of music being
     a collector, so was it just hearing it on record?

JP:  Exactly. I've read about many records which are supposed to have turned
     me on to want to play, but it was "Baby, Let's Play House" by Elvis 
     Presley. You've got to understand that in those days "rock'n'roll" was a
     dirty word. It wasn't even being played by the media. Maybe you'd hear
     one record a day during the period of Elvis, Little Richard, and Jerry
     Lee Lewis. That's why you were forced to be a record collector if you
     wanted to be a part of it. I heard that record and I wanted to be part of
     it; I knew something was going on. I heard the acoustic guitar, slap
     bass, and electric guitar - three instruments and a voice - and they 
     generated so much energy I had to be part of it. That's when I started.

     Mind you, it took a long time before I got anywhere, I mean any sort of
     dexterity. I used to listen to Ricky Nelson records and pinch the James
     Burton licks, learn the note for note perfect. I only did that for a
     while, though. I guess that after one writes one's first song you tend
     to depart from that. It's inevitable.

DS:  How old were you when you left Neil Christian and started going heavily
     into sessions?

JP:  I left Neil Christian when I was about 17 and went to art college. 
     During that period, I was jamming at night in a blues club. By that time
     the blues had started to happen, so I used to go out and jam with Cyril
     Davies' Interval Band. Then somebody asked me if I'd like to play on a
     record, and before I knew where I was I was doing all these studio dates
     at night, while still going to art college in the daytime. There was a
     crossroads and you know which one I took.

DS:  Do you remember your first studio session?

JP:  I think it was called "Your Momma's Out of Town," by Carter Lewis and the
     Southeners. Wait a minute; I'd played on one before that, "Diamonds" by
     Jet Harris and Tony Meehan, but that didn't mean anything to me. They 
     were both hits and that gave me impetus to keep on doing it. If "Your
     Momma's Out of Town" hadn't been a hit, though, I might have abandoned
     it then and there.

DS:  In retrospect, you think you made the right move by doing sessions?

JP:  I think so. It kept me off the road until such time as it became stagnant
     and it was time for a change. I was doing pretty well with Neil
     Christian, as far as money went, and to come out of that and go to art 
     college on a $10 a week would seem like insanity to a lot of people, but
     I'd do it anytime if it were necessary - make a drastic change if it had
     to be.

DS:  I'd be interested in your reminiscences of some of the groups you did or
     were supposed to have done sessions with. If you wouldn't mind
     commenting, I'll just run down a few of them. You worked with Them...

JP:  A most embarrassing session. Before we even start, I should say that I
     was mainly called in to sessions as insurance. It was usually myself and
     a drummer, though they never mention the drummer these days, just me. On
     the Them session, it was very embarrassing because you noticed that as
     each number passed, another member of the band would be substituted for
     by a session musician. Talk about daggers! God, it was awful. There'd be
     times you'd be sitting there - you didn't want to be there, you'd only
     been booked - and wishing you weren't there.

DS:  I heard Shel Talmy used to keep you around Who sessions and Kinks
     sessions, just in case you were needed, without really planning to use
     you in advance.

JP:  Well, I was on "Can't Explain" and on the B-side, "Bald Headed Woman,"
     you can hear some fuzzy guitar coming through which is me.

DS:  Did you work concurrently with Big Jim Sullivan when you were doing 
     these guitar sessions?

JP:  At one point, Big Jim was the only guitarist on the whole session scene.
     That's the reason they really picked up on me, because they just didn't 
     know anyone else but Jim. Obviously, there were many people about, but
     I was just lucky. Anyone needing a guitarist either went to Big Jim or
     myself. It's a boring life. You're like a machine.

DS:  But you kept at it a pretty long while?

JP:  I kept at it as long as the guitar was in vogue, but once it became 
     something that was a tambourine and they started using strings or an
     orchestra instead, I decided to give it up.

DS:  They stopped putting on guitar breaks?

JP:  Exactly. It just wasn't the thing anymore.

DS:  What about Fifth Avenue's "Just Like Anyone Would Do"?

JP:  That's a Shel Talmy thing, isn't it? Wait a minute, I produced that! What
     am I talking about? That's got a really good sound. I wrote that. It's    
     not good because I wrote it, but it's got a fantastic sound on it. I used
     a double up-pick on the acoustic guitars. It had nice Beach Boys-type 
     harmonies. The other side was "Bells Of Rhymney."

DS:  Did you play guitar on it?

JP:  No, I just produced it.

DS:  Who was the band?

JP:  Just session musicians that were around. I think John Paul Jones was on   
     bass.

DS:  Was that your first production?

JP:  No, but don't ask me what the other ones were. That was during the period
     I was producing for Immediate Records and Andrew Oldham.

DS:  How did you get involved with Oldham?

JP:  I just knew him... I know all the crooks. Better not print that, he might
     sue me. Actually, I love Andrew. He's one of the few producers I really
     respect. That's true, I really do respect him.

DS:  How did you come to work with Jackie DeShannon?

JP:  Just happened to be on a session. She was playing guitar and she said,
     "I've never found a guitarist who could adapt so quickly to the sort of
     things I'm doing." She had these odd licks and she said, "It's usually
     a big struggle to get these things across." I didn't know what she was
     talking about, because I'd been quite used to adapting.

     We wrote a few songs together, and they ended up getting done by 
     Marianne Faithfull, P.J. Proby, and Esther Phillips or one of those
     colored artists did a few. I started receiving royalty statements, which
     was very unusual for me at the time, seeing the names of different 
     people who'd covered your songs.

DS:  What about "Beck's Bolero"?

JP:  Wrote it, played on it, produced it... and I don't give a damn what he 
     says. That's the truth.

DS:  What about your solo single, "She Just Satisfies"?

JP:  I did it because I thought it would be fun. I played all the instruments  
     except drums, which was Bobbie Graham. The other side was the same story.

DS:  Why didn't you do a follow-up to "She Just Satisfies"?

JP:  Because I wanted to do "Every Little Thing" with an orchestra, and they
     wouldn't let me do it.

DS:  So you refused to do anything else?

JP:  No, it was just left like that, and my contract ran out before I could
     do anything else. Simple as that.

DS:  What about Mickie Most? You worked on his single and then later he 
     produced the Yardbirds?

JP:  "Money Honey" I did with him, but the B-side, "Sea Cruise," wasn't me. It
     was Don Peek, who toured England with the Everly Brothers. He was bloody
     good. He was the first guitarist to come to England who was doing finger
     tremolo, and all the musicians were totally knocked out. Clapton picked
     up on it straight away, and others followed soon after. Eric was the 
     first one to evolve the sound with the Gibson and Marshall amps; he
     should have total credit for that. I remember when we did "I'm Your
     Witchdoctor," he had all that sound down, and the engineer, who was 
     cooperating to that point (I was producing, don't forget), but was used
     to doing orchestras and big bands, suddenly turned off the machine and
     said, "This guitarist is unrecordable!" I told him to just record it and
     I'd take full responsibility; the guy just couldn't believe that someone
     was getting that kind of sound from a guitar on purpose. Feedback, 
     tremolo, he'd never heard anything like it.

DS:  Was Clapton the first guitarist to use feedback, or were others usint it
     before him?

JP:  No, there were a few guitarists doing it. I don't know who was the first,
     though, I really don't. Townshend, of course, made it a big feature of
     his scene, because he didn't play single notes. Beck used it. I used it
     as much as I could.

DS:  Do you like Townshend's style?

JP:  Oh, yeah. Lots of attack. Really good. He had his limitations, though. He
     was no Beck, but he was all right.

DS:  Were you getting off much on the other English guitarists at that time?

JP:  Sure. I really was, yeah. More so then than I do now.

DS:  Was it mostly Clapton, Townshend, and Beck?

JP:  Well, yeah. It was just like a little clan really. Beck, myself, and 
     Clapton were sort of "arch-buddies," and Townshend was sort of on the
     periphery. He came from another area of London. We were all in 
     commuting distance from Richmond, which is where it was all going on. 
     Townshend came from Ealing. Albert Lee was the only other guitarist 
     really worth noting. He was like a white elephant. He was so good...
     very much in the Nashville tradition. One thing I've noticed, though, is
     that all the good musicians who've stuck to it from those days have come
     through.

DS:  You were originally offered the job as Clapton's replacement in the 
     Yardbirds, but you turned it down, suggesting Beck instead. How did that
     come about?

JP:  Giorgio Gomelsky approached me and said that Eric wasn't willing to 
     expand and go along with the whole thing. I guess it was probably pretty
     apparent to them after they didn "For Your Love." Clapton didn't like 
     that at all. By that time they had already started using different 
     instruments like harpsichords and at that point Clapton felt like he was
     just fed up. The rest of the band, especially Gomelsky, wanted to move
     further in that direction.

     The very first time I was asked to join the Yardbirds, though, was not 
     at that time, but sometime before then. Gomelsky said that Eric was 
     going to have a "holiday," and I could step in and replace him. The way
     he put it to me, it just seemed really distasteful and I refused. Eric
     had been a friend of mine and I couldn't possibly be party to that. Plus
     Eric didn't want to leave the band at that stage.

DS:  When Beck joined the Yardbirds he was supposedly asked to play in 
     Clapton's style, at least in the beginning.

JP:  A lot of things the Yardbirds were doing with Eric other people were
     doing at the same time, so it wasn't really hard for Beck to fit in. When
     you say "playing in his style," there were obviously certain passages
     and riffs that had to be precise and it was only a matter of time until 
     the next recording, at which time Beck could assert his own identity.

DS:  You mentioned you were good friends with Beck before the Yardbirds. How
     did your friendship come about? Did you see the Yardbirds often when
     Beck was with them?

JP:  When I was doing studio work I used to to see them often, whenever I 
     wasn't working. I met Beck through a friend of mine, who told me he
     knew this guitarist I had to meet who'd made his own guitar. Beck showed
     up with his homemade guitar one day and he was really quite good. He 
     started playing this Scotty Moore and James Burton stuff; I joined in 
     and we really hit it off well.

     We used to hang out a hell of a lot when he was in the Yardbirds and I 
     was doing studio work. I remember we both got very turned on to
     Rodrigo's Guitar Concerto by Segovia and all these sorts of music. He
     had the same sort of taste in music as I did. That's why you'll find on
     the early LPs we both did a song like "You Shook Me." It was the type of
     thing we'd both played in bands. Someone told me he'd already recorded 
     it after we'd already put it down on the first Zeppelin album. I
     thought, "Oh dear, it's going to be identical," but it was nothing like
     it, fortunately. I just had no idea he'd done it. It was on Truth but I
     first heard it when I was in Miami after we'd recorded our version. It's
     a classic example of coming from the same area musically, of having a
     similar taste. It really pissed me off when people compared our first
     album to the Jeff Beck Group and said it was very close conceptually.
     It was nonsense, utter nonsense. The only similarity was that we'd both
     come out of the Yardbirds and we both had acquired certain riffs 
     individually from the Yardbirds.

DS:  Under what circumstances did you finally join the Yardbirds when Paul
     Samwell-Smith quit in late summer of 1966?

JP:  It was at a gig at the Marqueen Club in Oxford which I'd gone along to.
     They were playing in front of all thses penguin-suited undergraduates
     and I think Samwell-Smith, whose family was a bit well to do, was 
     embarrassed by the band's behavior. Apparently Keith Relf had gotten
     really drunk and he was falling into the drum kit, making farting noises
     to the mike, being generally anarchistic. I thought he had done really
     well, actuallly, and the band had played really well that night. He just
     added all this extra feeling to it. When he came offstage, though, Paul
     Samwell-Smith said, "I'm leaving the band." Things used to be so final 
     back then. There was no rethinking decisions like that. Then he said to
     Chris Dreja, "If I were you, I'd leave too." Which he didn't. They were
     sort of stuck.

     Jeff had brought me to the gig in his car and on the way back I told him
     I'd sit in for a few months until they got things sorted out. Beck had 
     often said to me, "It would be really great if you could join the band."
     But I just didn't think it was a possibility in any way. In addition, 
     since I'd turned the offer down a couple of times already, I didn't know
     how the rest of them would feel about me joining. It was decided that 
     we'd definitely have a go at it; I'd take on the bass, though I'd never
     played it before, but only until Dreja could learn it as he'd never 
     played it either. We figured it would be easier for me to pick it up
     quickly, then switch over to a dual guitar thing when Chris had time to
     become familiar enough with the bass.

DS:  How did Beck leave the group?

JP:  It was on the Dick Clark tour when there were a few incidents. One time 
     in the dressing room I walked in and Beck had his guitar up over his
     head, about to bring it down on Keith Relf's head, but instead smashed
     it on the floor. Relf looked at him with total astonishment and Beck
     said, "Why did you make me do that?" Fucking hell. Everyone said, "My
     goodness gracious, what a funny chap." We went back to the hotel and
     Beck showed me his tonsils, said he wasn't feeling well and was going to
     see a doctor. He left for L.A. where we were headed in two days time 
     anyway. When we got there, though, we realized that whatever doctor he 
     was claiming to see must have had his office in the Whiskey. He was 
     actually seeing his girlfriend and had just used the doctor bit as an 
     excuse to cut out on us.

     These sort of things went on and it must have revived all the previous
     antagonism between him and the rest of the band. I think that that, and
     a couple of other things, especially the horrible wages we were being 
     paid, helped bring about his behavior, which had obviously stewed behind
     everybody's back. That quote you mentioned, that Keith Relf had said,
     "The magic of the band left when Eric left," I think really has to be
     taken into account. They were prepared to go on as a foursome, but it
     seemed that a lot of the enthusiasm had been lost. Then Simon Napier-
     Bell called up with the news that he was selling his stakes in the band
     to Mickie Most. I think they must have cooked it up, actually, the three
     of them: Napier-Bell, Most and Beck. This way Beck could have a solo 
     career, which he had already begun in a way with the recording of
     "Beck's Bolero."

DS:  How did Peter Grant come to manage the Yardbirds?

JP:  Peter was working with Mickie Most and was offered the management when
     Most was offered the recording... I'd known Peter from way back in the
     days of Immediate because our offices were next door to Mickie Most and
     Peter was working for him. The first thing we did with him was a tour of
     Australia and we found that suddenly there was some money being made 
     after all this time.

     I was only on a wage, anyway, with the Yardbirds. I'd like to say that
     because I was earning about three times as much when I was doing
     sessions and I've seen it written that "Page only joined the Yardbirds
     for the bread." I was on wages except when it came to the point when the
     wages were more than what the rest of the band were making and it was 
     cheaper for Simon Napier-Bell to give me what everybody else was getting.

DS: How lucrative was it to be a session musician?

JP:  It was very lucrative and I saved up a lot of money, which is why it 
     didn't bother me that I was working for a lot less money in the Yard-
     birds. I just wanted to get out of only playing rhythm guitar and have
     a chance to get into something more creative. As they were a really 
     creative band, there were obvious possibilities, especially the idea of
     dual lead, that really excited me. Nobody except maybe the Stones had 
     done anything that approached what we wanted to do, and even the Stones
     didn't really use dual leads, at least not in the way we had in mind. I
     mean we immediately settled into things like stereo riffs on "Over,
     Under, Sideways, Down" and all kinds of guitar harmonies onstage.
     Everything fell into place very easily.

DS:  Why did the group finally split?

JP:  It just got to a point where Relf and McCarty couldn't take it anymore. 
     They wanted to go and do something totally different. When it came to
     the final split, it was a question of begging them to keep it together, 
     but they didn't. They just wanted to try something new. I told them we'd
     be able to change within the group format, coming from a sessions back-
     ground I was prepared to adjust to anything. I hated to break it up
     without even doing a proper first album.

DS:  What about your own desire for stardom, did that have any role in your
     quitting sessions to join the Yardbirds in the first place?

JP:  No. I never desired stardom, I just wanted to be respected as musician.

DS:  Do you feel the extent of your stardom now has become a burden for you
     in any way?

JP:  Only in relation to a lot of misunderstandings that have been laid on
     us. A lot of negative and derogatory things have been said about us. I 
     must say I enjoyed the anonymity that was part of being one fourth of a
     group. I liked being a name but not necessarily a face to go with it. 
     The film, The Song Remains The Same, I think, has done a lot to put
     faces to names for the group.

DS:  And after Relf and McCarty said they were quitting the Yardbirds, you 
     planned to keep the group going with Chris Dreja and bring in a new
     drummer and singer, is that right?

JP:  Well, we still had these dates we were supposed to fulfill. Around the
     time of the split John Paul Jones called me up and said he was
     interested in getting something together. Also, Chris was getting very
     into photography; he decided he wanted to open his own studio and by
     that time was no longer enarmored with the tought of going on the road.
     Obviously, a lot of Keith and Jim's attitude of wanting to jack it in
     had rubbed off on him, so Jonesy was in.

     I'd originally thought of getting Terry Reid in as lead singer and 
     second guitarist but he had just signed with Mickie Most as a solo
     artist in a quirk of fate. He suggested I get in touch with Robert
     Plant, who was then in a band called Hobbstweedle. When I auditioned him
     and heard him sing, I immediately thought there must be something wrong
     with him personality-wise or that he had to be impossible to work with,
     because I just could not understand why, after he told me hi'd been
     singing for a few years already, he hadn't become a big name yet. So I
     had him down to my place for a little while, just to sort of check him
     out, and we got along great. No problems. At this time a number of 
     drummers had approached me and wanted to work with us. Robert suggested 
     I go hear John Bonham, whom I'd heard of because he had a reputation, 
     but had never seen. I asked Robert if he knew him and he told me they'd
     worked together in this group called Band Of Joy.

DS:  So the four of you rehearsed for a short time and went on that 
     Scandinavian tour as the New Yardbirds.

JP:  As I said, we had these dates that the Yardbirds were supposed to
     fulfill, so we went as the Yardbirds. They were already being advertised
     as the New Yardbirds featuring Jimmy Page, so there wasn't much we could
     do about it right then. We had every intention of changing the name of
     the group from the very beginning, though. The tour went fantastically 
     for us, we left them stomping the floors after every show.

DS:  Who actually named Led Zeppelin? I've heard that both John Entwistle and
     Keith Moon claim to have thought up the name.

JP:  It was Moon, I'm sure, despite anything Entwistle may have said. In fact,
     I'm quite certain Richard Cole asked Moon for his permission when we 
     decided to use the name. Entwistle must have just been upset that the
     original Led Zeppelin never took off.

DS:  What original Led Zeppelin?

JP:  We were going to form a group called Led Zeppelin at the time of "Beck's
     Bolero" sessions with the lineup from that session. It was going to be
     me and Beck on guitars, Moon on drums, maybe Nicky Hopkins on piano. The
     only one from the session who wasn't going to be in it was Jonesy, who
     had played bass. Instead, Moon suggested we bring in Entwistle as bassist
     and lead singer as well, but after some discussion we decided to use 
     another singer. The first choice was Stevie Winwood, but it was decided 
     that he was too heavily committed to Traffic at the time and probably
     wouldn't be too interested. Next, we thought of Steve Marriott. He was
     approached and seemed to be full of glee about it. A message came from
     the business side of Marriott, though, which said, "How would you like to
     play guitar with broken fingers? You will be if you don't stay away from
     Stevie." After that, the idea sort of fell apart. We just said, "Let's 
     forget about the whole thing, quick." Instead of being more positive 
     about it and looking for another singer, we just let it slip by. Then the
     Who began a tour, the Yardbirds began a tour and that was it.

     Remembering that session when we did "Bolero," the band seemed to be 
     almost tied up; it was really close to happening.

DS:  What were the original ideas behind Zeppelin when the band first got
     together? Was it immediately decided to be a high energy thing?

JP:  Obviously, it was geared that way from the start. When Robert came down
     to my place for the first time, when I was trying to get an idea what
     he was all about, we talked about the possibilities of various types of
     things, "Dazed And Confused," for example. Then I played him a version
     of "Babe I'm Gonna Leave You." It was the version by Joan Baez, the song
     is traditional, and I said, "Fancy doing this?" He sort of looked at me
     with wonder and I said, "Well, I've got an idea for an arrangement," and
     started playing it on acoustic guitar. That's indicative of the way I
     was thinking with regards to direction. It was very easy going.

DS:  How was the material chosen for the first Zeppelin album?

JP:  The stuff was all originally put forward by me as the material to include
     in the program we played in concert. It had all been well rehearsed as 
     we'd tour Scandinavia as the New Yardbirds before recording the album. We
     also had a few other things we were doing at the time which never got
     recorded: "Flames," written by Elmer Gantry, was a really good number;
     "As Long As I Have You," was a Garnett Mimms number we had done with
     the Yardbirds which Janis Joplin had recorded. There were a lot of 
     improvisations on the first album, but generally we were keeping every-
     thing cut and dried. Consequently, by the time we'd finished the first
     tour the riffs which were coming out of these spaces, we were able to
     use for the immediate recording of the second album.

DS:  The first album is said to have been recorded in 30 hours.

JP:  That's right, about 30 hours of recording time. Before we started
     recording we had already played the numbers live and I already had a good
     idea of what was going to go on as far as the overdubs went.

DS:  There weren't many overdubs done on the album at any rate, were there?

JP:  Not many. On "Babe I'm Gonna Leave You," there's an acoustic guitar
     dubbed over and there's some pedal steel on "Your Time Is Gonna Come."

DS:  When did you learn to play pedal steel?

JP:  For that session. We also had worked out a version of "Chest Fever" in
     rehearsals, though we never played it onstage. That had organ and pedal 
     steel on it.

DS:  What was the recording of the second album like? How long did it take 
     you as opposed to the first album?

JP:  It was done wherever we could get into a studio, in bits and pieces, so
     I couldn't even tell you how long it actually took. I remember we did a
     vocal overdubs in an eight-track studio in Vancouver were they didn't
     even have proper headphones. Can you imagine that? It was just recorded
     while we were on the road.

DS:  Was it recorded entirely on the road?

JP:  No. "Thank You," "The Lemon Song," and "Moby Dick" were overdubbed on 
     tour and the mixing of "Whole Lotta Love" and "Heartbreaker" was done on
     tour. In other words, some of the material came out of rehearsing for
     the next tour and getting new material together. The most important thing
     about Zeppelin II is that up to that point I'd contributed lyrics. Robert
     wrote "Thank You" on his own. That was the first one and it's important
     because it's when he began to come through as a lyricist. I'd always
     hoped that he would.

DS:  There was a bit of a fuss made at one point because on the first couple
     of albums you were using a lot of traditional and blues lyrics and tunes
     and calling them your own.

JP:  The thing is they were traditional lyrics and they went back far before
     a lot of people that one related them to. The riffs we did were totally
     different, also, from the ones that had come before, apart from something
     like "You Shook Me" and "I Can't Quit You," which were attributed to 
     Willie Dixon. The thing with "Bring It On Home," Christ, there's only a
     tiny bit taken from Sonny Boy Williamson's version and we threw that in
     as a tribute to him. People say, "Oh, 'Bring It Oh Home' is stolen."
     Well, there's only a little bit in the song that relates to anything that
     had gone before it, just the end.

DS:  Your next album, Led Zeppelin III, presented a very different image of 
     Led Zeppelin from the first two albums. Most importantly, it was 
     predominantly acoustic. It was a very controversial album. How and why
     did the changes that brought about the third album take place?

JP:  After the intense touring that had been taking place through the first
     two albums, working almost 24 hours a day, basically, we managed to stop
     and have a proper break, a couple of months as opposed to a couple of
     weeks. We decided to go off and rent a cottage to provide a contrast to
     motel rooms. Obviously, it had quite an effect on the material that was
     written.

DS:  Did you write the whole album there?

JP:  Just certain sections of it. "That's The Way," "Bron-Y-Aur Stomp," quite
     a few things. It was the tranquility of the place that set the tone of
     the album. Obviously, we weren't crashing away at 100 watt Marshall
     stacks. Having played acoustic and being interested in classical guitar,
     anyway, being in a cottage without electricity, it was acoustic guitar
     time. It didn't occur to us not to include it on the album because it was
     relative to the changes within the band. We didn't expect we'd get
     trashed in the media for doing it.

DS:  Was there a rethink by the band about the stage act, since you were faced
     with having to perform material from a predominantly acoustic LP?

JP:  It just meant that we were going to have to employ some of those numbers
     onstage without being frightened about it. They were received amazingly 
     well.

DS:  Had you wanted to bring in more of the English folk roots to Zeppelin or
     was it just the influence of living in the cottage that gives the album a
     pastoral feeling?

JP:  It has that because that's how it was. After all the heavy, intense vibe
     of touring which is reflected in the raw energy of the second album, it
     was just a totally different feeling. I've always tried to capture an
     emotional quality in my songs. Transmitting that is what music seems to
     be about, really, as far as the instrumental side of it goes, anyway. It
     was in us, everything that came out on Zeppelin III can still be related
     to the essence of the first album when you think about it. It's just that
     the band had kept maturing.
    
DS:  Were you surprised when the critical reaction came out?

JP:  I just thought they hadn't understood it, hadn't listened to it. For      
     instance, Melody Maker said we'd decided to don our acoustic guitars
     because Crosby, Stills and Nash had just been over there. It wasn't until
     the fourth LP that people began to understand that we weren't just
     messing around.
     
DS:  You did take a lot of stock in the criticism of the third record. 
     Personally, you seemed to be hit hard by it at the time.     
     
JP:  To pave the way for 18 months without doing any interviews, I must have.   
     Silly, wasn't I? That was a lot of the reason for putting out the next
     LP with no information on it at all. After a year's absence from both
     records and touring, I remember one agent telling us it was a 
     professional suicide. We just happened to have a lot of faith in what we
     were doing.

DS:  Was the cover of the fourth album meant to bring out that whole city/
     country dichotomy that had surfaced on the third record?

JP:  Exactly. It represented the change in the balance which was going on.
     There was the old countryman and the blocks of flats being knocked down.
     It was just a way of saying that we should look after the earth, not rape
     and pillage it.

DS:  Do you think it the third record was good for the band, regardless of the
     critical reaction, because it showed people that the band was not just a
     heavy metal group, that you were more versatile than that?

JP:  It showed people that we weren't going to be a stagnant group. There were
     some people who knew that already and were interested to see what we'd
     come up with; there were others who thought we were just an outright hype
     and were still living back in the '60s. They just didn't take anything we
     did seriously. A lot of them have since come around. You should read that
     Melody Maker review, though, it's absolutely classic. I felt a lot better
     once we started performing it, because it was proving to be working for
     the people who came around to see us. There was always a big smile there
     in front of us. That was always more important than any proxy review.
     That's really how the following of the band has spread, by word of mouth.
     I mean, all this talk about a hype, spending thousands on publicity 
     campaigns, we didn't do that at all. We didn't do television. Well we did
     a pilot TV show and a pilot radio show, but that's all. We weren't hyping
     ourselves. It wasn't as though we were thrashing about all over the media.
     It didn't matter, though, the word got out on the street.

DS:  Once a band is established it seems to me that bad reviews can't really 
     do anything to a band.

JP:  No, you're right. But you've got to understand that I lived every second
     of the albums. Whereas the others hadn't. John Paul and Bonzo would do
     the tracks and they wouldn't come in until needed. And Robert would do
     the vocals. But I'd be there all the time and I'd live and cringe to 
     every mistake. There were things that were right and wrong on a subjective
     level.

DS:  You said that "Hats Off To (Roy) Harper" was written as a tribute to him.
     Did you hope to draw attention to him?

JP:  In a way. I mean hats off to anybody who sticks by what they think is
     right and has the courage not to sell out. We did a whole set of country
     blues and traditional blues numbers that Robert suggested. But that was
     the only one we put on the record.

DS:  It seems that of the big groups, only you and the Who have managed to 
     stay together for such a long time without personnel changes, and the Who
     don't really seem to get on with each other very well.

JP:  Yeah, we've always had a strong bond. It became very apparent when Robert
     was injured before we made Presence.

DS:  The fourth album was to my mind the first fully realized Zeppelin album. 
     It just sounded like everything had come together on that album.

JP:  Yeah, we were really playing properly as a group and the different 
     writing departures that we'd taken, like the cottage and the spontainety
     aspects, had been worked out and came across in the most disciplined
     form.

     "Rock And Roll" was a spontaineous combustion. We were doing something
     else at the time, but Bonzo played the beginning of Little Richard's 
     "Good Golly Miss Molly" with the tape still running and I just started
     doing that part of the riff. It actually ground to a halt after about 12
     bars, but it was enough to know that there was enough of a number there
     to keep working on it. Robert even came in singing on it straight away.

     I do have the original tape that was running at the time we ran down 
     "Stairway To Heaven" completely with the band. I'd worked it all out 
     already the night before with John Paul Jones, written down the changes
     and things. All this time we were all living in a house and keeping
     pretty regular hours together, so the next day we started running it
     down. There was only one place where there was a slight rerun. For some
     unknown reason Bonzo couldn't get the timing right on the twelve-string
     part before the solo. Other than that it flowed very quickly. While we
     were doing it Robert was penciling down lyrics; he must have written 
     three quarters of the lyrics on the spot. He didn't have to go away and
     think about them. Amazing, really.

     "Black Dog" was a riff that John Paul Jones had brought with him. "Battle
     of Evermore" was made up on the spot by Robert and myself. I just picked
     up John Paul Jones's mandolin, never having played a mandolin before, and
     just wrote up the chords and the whole thing in one sitting. The same 
     thing happened with the banjo on "Gallows Pole." I'd never played one
     before either. It was also John Paul Jones's instrument. I just picked it
     up and started moving my fingers around until the chords sounded right,
     which is the same way I work on compositions when the guitar's in 
     different tunings.

DS:  When did Sandy Denny come to sing on "Battle Of Evermore"?

JP:  Well, it sounded like an old English instrumental first off. Then it 
     became a vocal and Robert did his bit. Finally we figured we'd bring
     Sandy by and do a question-and-answer-type thing.

     "Misty Mountain Hop" we came up with on the spot. "Going To California"
     was a thing I'd written before on acoustic guitar. "When The Levee
     Breaks" was a riff that I'd been working on, but Bonzo's drum sound
     really makes a difference on that point.

DS:  You've said that when you heard Robert's lyrics to "Stairway To Heaven"
     you knew that he'd be the band's lyricist from then on.

JP:  I always knew he would be, but I knew at that point that he'd proved it
     to himself and could get into something a bit more profound than just
     subjective things. Not that they can't be profound as well, but there's
     a lot of ambiguity implied in that number that wasn't present before. I
     was really relieved because it gave me the opportunity to just get on
     with the music.

DS:  Did you know you'd recorded a classic when you finished?

JP:  I knew it was good. I didn't know it was going to become like an anthem,
     but I did know it was the gem of the album, sure.

DS:  You recorded the fourth record on a few different studios, right?

JP:  It was recorded on location at Headley Grange in Hampshire. "Stairway"
     was done at Island, as were the overdubs. "Four Sticks" was done at
     Island, because it had a lot of chiming guitars and things. "When The
     Levee Breaks" is probably the most subtle thing on there as far as
     production goes because each 12 bars has something new about it, though
     at first it might not be apparent. There's a lot of different effects on
     there that at the time had never been used before. Phased vocals, a
     backwards echoed harmonica solo. Andy Johns was doing the engineering, 
     but as far as those ideas go, they usually come from me. Once a thing
     is past the stage of being a track, I've usually got a good idea of how
     I'd like it to shape up. I don't want to sound too dictatorial, though,
     because it's not that sort of thing at all. When we went into Headley
     Grange it was more like, "Okay, what's anybody got?"

DS:  And it turned out that you had more than anyone else?

JP:  It usually does.

DS:  Was the idea of the symbols on the cover of the fourth album yours?

JP:  Yeah. After all this crap that we'd had with the critics, I put it to
     everybody else that it'd be a good idea to put out something totally
     anonymous. At first I wanted just one symbol on it, but then it was 
     decided that since it was our fourth album and there were four of us, 
     we could each choose our own symbol. I designed mine and everyone else
     had their own reasons for using the symbols that they used.

DS:  Do you envision a relationship between Zeppelin cover art and the music
     on the albums?

JP:  There is a relationship in a way, though not necessarily in a "concept
     album" fashion.

DS:  Does Robert usually come into sessions with the lyrics already written?

JP:  He has a lyric book and we try to fuse song to lyric where it can be
     done. Where it can't, he just writes new ones.

DS:  Is there a lot of lyric changing during a session?

JP:  Sometimes. Sometimes it's more cut and dried, like on "The Rain Song."

DS:  There are a few tracks on the fifth album that seemed to exhibit more of
     a sense of humor than Zeppelin had been known for. "The Crunge" was funny
     and "D'yer Mak'er" had a joke title which took some people a while to get.

JP:  I didn't expect people not to get it. I thought it was pretty obvious.
     The song itself was a cross between reggae and a '50s number, "Poor 
     Little Fool," Ben E. King's things, stuff like that. I'll tell you one
     thing, "The Song Remains The Same" was going to be an instrumental at
     first. We used to call it "The Overture."

DS:  You never performed it that way.

JP:  We couldn't. There were too many guitar parts to perform with.

DS:  But once you record anything with overdubs, you end up having to adapt
     it for the stage.

JP:  Sure. Then it becomes a challenge, a tough challenge in some cases. 
     "Achilles" is the classic one. When Ronnie Wood and Keith Richards came
     to hear us play, Keith said, "You ought to get another guitarist; you're
     rapidly becoming known as the most overworked guitarist in the business."
     Quite amusing. There are times when I'd just love to get another
     guitarist on, but it just wouldn't look right to the audience.

DS:  The Houses Of The Holy album was the last one that came out on Atlantic
     before you formed Swan Song. How did the label get started?

JP:  We'd been thinking about it for a while and we knew if we formed a label
     there wouldn't be the kind of fuss and bother we'd been going through 
     over album covers and things like that. Having gone through, ourselves,
     what appeared to be an interference, or at least an aggravation, on the 
     artistic side by record companies, we wanted to form a label where the
     artists would be able to fulfill themselves without all of that hassle.
     Consequently the people we were looking for for the label would be people
     who knew where they were going themselves. We didn't really want to get
     bogged down in having to develop artists, we wanted people who were
     together enough to handle that type of thing themselves, like the Pretty
     Things. Even though they didn't happen, the records they made were very,
     very good.

DS:  The Physical Graffiti album was not all new material. Why was this?

JP:  Well, as usual, we had more material than the required 40-odd minutes for
     one album. We had enough material for one and a half LPs, so we figured
     let's put out a double and use some of the material we had done 
     previously but never released. It seemed like a good time to do that sort
     of thing, release tracks like "Boogie With Stu" which we normally 
     wouldn't be able to do.

DS:  Who's Stu?

JP:  Ian Stewart from the Stones. He played on "Rock And Roll" with us.

DS:  Which other tracks on Physical Graffiti had been recorded previously?

JP:  "Black Country Woman" and "The Rover" were both done at the same time we
     did "D'yer Mak'er." "Bron-Yr-Aur" was done for the third record. "Down
     By The Seaside," "Night Flight," and "Boogie With Stu" were all from the
     sessions for the fourth album. We had an album and a half of new material,
     and this time we figured it was better to stretch out than to leave off.
     I really fancied putting out a song called "Houses of the Holy" on the
     album.

DS:  Do you consider "Kashmir" one of your better compositions?

JP:  Yeah. There have been several milestones along the way. That's definitely
     one of them.

DS:  If you were to put together a "Best Of Zeppelin" album, what tracks 
     would you choose for it?

JP:  That's a very difficult question. I haven't thought about it.

DS:  What other milestones would you mention?

JP:  "Communication Breakdown." ...It's difficult, only because I don't know
     the running times and if you mean a single LP or a double. It would 
     probably be about three songs from each LP. I'd be very conscious of a
     balance of the sides. There are some tracks which are obvious.

DS:  Are there any plans to put out an album like that?

JP:  Not at this moment.

DS:  Do you think that you'll do one eventually?

JP:  I'm going to work on a quad thing. I have one idea of a chronological 
     live LP which would be two or three albums going back through 
     "Communication Breakdown," "Thank You," and all those sorts of numbers.
     We've got recordings starting with the Albert Hall in 1969 and 1970 with
     two a year from then on. It would go all the way through.

DS:  The Presence album was recorded after Robert's accident and you've said
     it was the album you were most intensely involved with since the first
     album.

JP:  As far as living it uninterrupted from beginning to end, yeah,
     definitely. I did 18-hour sessions, 24-hour sessions to complete it.

DS:  Is there any reason that Presence is a totally electric guitar-oriented 
     album?

JP:  I think it was just a reflection of the total anxiety and emotion at the
     period of time during which it was recorded. It's true that there are no
     acoustic songs, no mellowness or contrasts or changes to other
     instruments. Yet the blues we did, like "Tea For One," was the only time
     I think we've ever gotten close to repeating the mood of another of our
     numbers, "Since I've Been Loving You." The chordal structure is similar,
     a minor blues. We just wanted to get a really laid-back blues feeling 
     without blowing out on it at all. We did two takes in the end, one with
     a guitar solo and one without. I ended up sitting there thinking, "I've
     got this guitar solo to do," because there have been blues guitar solos
     since Eric on Five Live Yardbirds and everyone's done a good one. I was
     really a bit frightened of it. I thought, "What's to be done?" I didn't
     want to blast out the solo like a locomotive or something, because it 
     wasn't conductive to the vibe of the rest of the track. I was extremely
     aware that you had to do something different than just some B.B. King
     licks.

DS:  You've always seemed to be conscious of not repeating blues clichs.

JP:  I probably do it more onstage than on record. it's evindent on the live
     album when we do "Whole Lotta Love."

     I'll tell you about doing all the guitar overdubs to "Achilles Last
     Stand." There were basically two sections to the song when we rehearsed
     it. I know John Paul Jones didn't think I could succeed in what I was 
     attempting to do. He said I couldn't do a scale over a certain section,
     that it just wouldn't work. But it did. What I planned to try and get
     that epic quality into it so it wouldn't just sound like two sections
     repeated, was to give the piece a totally new identity by orchestrating
     the guitars, which is something I've been into for quite some time. I 
     knew it had to be jolly good, because the number was so long it just
     couldn't afford to be half-baked. It was all down to me how to do this.
     I had a lot of it mapped out in my mind, anyway, but to make a long 
     story short, I did all the overdubs in one night.

DS:  Do you know how many tracks you did?

JP:  No, I lost count eventually. Not many people picked up on that number but
     I thought as far as I can value tying up that kind of emotion as a 
     package and trying to convey it through two speakers, it was fairly
     successful. Maybe it's because it was a narrative, I don't know.

DS:  Were you upset that the first live LP was a film soundtrack?

JP:  Dead right. It was a shame. For a time, the movie was shelved and we were
     going to come over here with what we'd learned, and do some more footage,
     but after Robert's accident we were forced to tie it all up. We'd done
     work with it already and it had to come out. It was recorded across three
     nights, but in fact the music for the footage mainly came from the first
     night. It was the best vocal performance. It wasn't like they had 
     drop-ins and that sort of thing, but they just didn't have complete
     footage. So we had to come up with the fantasy sequences to fill it up.
     Had we been a band that's the same every night, it would have been very
     easy for them to link one night's performance with another. As far as 
     live albums go, most groups will record over half a dozen nights and take
     the best of that, but as it was a visual, we couldn't do that.

DS:  Do you like the movie?

JP:  Oh, it was an incredible uphill struggle. We'd done a bit of work on it
     and stopped, did more, then stopped again. Three times in all. At that
     point, we'd decided to redo the thing, making sure the filmmakers did
     have everything covered properly. As far as it goes, I'm really pleased
     that it's there. Purely because it's an honest statement, a documentary.
     It's certainly not one of the magic nights. It was not one of the 
     amazing nights you get now and again, but you'd have to have the entire
     film crew traveling with you all the time to catch one. That would be
     just too costly to do. We'd gotten to the point where we were so far into
     it we couldn't pull out. We'd put so much money into it. By that point,
     we knew it was going to be all right, but the director was very stubborn
     and it would have been a lot easier had he just done what he'd been 
     asked to do.

     Getting back to your original question, though, it was frustrating 
     because I did have this concept of this chronological live LP which 
     really would have been a knockout.

DS:  It still sounds like a viable thing for you to do in the future.

JP:  I'll get to it. I'll do it eventually.

