Led Zeppelin punched their audience in their third eye, coring into their startled beings. They would not leave you alone, like primaeval pterodactyls snatching at your clothing and dragging you towards them; entrancing you with the visual double-act of cherubic Jimmy Page and primal Robert Plant–even as early as this, cock-rocker Plant paradoxically squealing like a bitch on heat, like a 12-year-old who had lived for a thousand years, drawing out the androgynous, screamingly libidinous nature of both frontmen, interweaving with the musical dramatics.
😂
