PHOTO BY MARK MANION
I have loved Jimmy Page’s guitar playing longer than I’ve played the guitar. I discovered the music of Led Zeppelin when I was about 13, and it was the gateway out of whatever TV and radio happened to be delivering, and into music that resonated with me deeply. It was pivotal in my developing a love for guitar-oriented music, and, ultimately, the guitar.
My first memory of Led Zeppelin was of my best friend in junior high, Ashley, begging the classic rock radio station to play a song with which she had recently become obsessed, "Stairway To Heaven." Its radio-unfriendly length meant that the station never wanted to play the whole thing, so Ashley had to spring for Zeppelin’s fourth album. When we sat down to listen to it, I remember it sounding like nothing I’d heard before, and the final song, "When The Levee Breaks," took me to a place I’d never been—it was so dark, so otherworldly, and so unquestionably badass.
Led Zeppelin opened my ears to different types of music—music considered atypical for high school girls: Eric Johnson, The Dixie Dregs, Frank Zappa, Django Reinhardt. The common thread in the music that had so captured my soul was amazing guitar playing. And so grew my love for the guitar.
Having now played guitar seriously for fourteen years, getting to be onstage, playing the music that was one of my first inspirations, is a musical homecoming as well as the ultimate gratification of my teenage self. And the education of learning Jimmy Page’s songs and licks is as invaluable as it is thrilling—from the ripping solos of "Heartbreaker" and "Communication Breakdown," to the slide playing of "In My Time Of Dying" and "When The Levee Breaks," to the heart-rending emotion in the bends and phrasing of "Since I’ve Been Loving You," to taking a violin bow to a Les Paul for "Dazed and Confused"…the palette is huge, the emotional territory is expansive, and the educational experience feels endless.
Diving into Page’s playing, it becomes quickly apparent how fundamental improvisation and experimentation are. Therein lies a more elusive, yet equally important, component to the musical education—learning to improvise in Page’s style as well as learning to improvise in his spirit, and determining when to do what. The vast majority of the time, I strive for note-for-note renditions. In certain places, like "Immigrant Song," Jimmy plays a solo live, though there is no solo on the recorded version. In cases like these, I listen to what he did live, and try improvise in a similar vein. In places where I feel Jimmy stretched the furthest in his improvisations is where I stretch the furthest— "Dazed And Confused" and "Whole Lotta Love," for example. At times within these longer jams, I’ll depart from something Jimmy might have done specifically (in terms of signature “Jimmy Page licks”) to do something that Jimmy often did conceptually—taking risks and pushing the boundaries of my own playing. How and when to improvise is completely subjective, of course, so I just try to use my best artistic judgment. I believe honoring the innovative and improvisatory spirit of Page’s playing is an important component to honoring his music as a whole. Jimmy rarely played things exactly the same way, anyway.
One of the most fun challenges of playing Zeppelin is figuring out how to adapt songs with multiple guitar tracks for live performance. Songs like "Misty Mountain Hop," "Black Dog," "The Ocean," and "Ramble On" all have solos or sections that have harmonized guitar melodies. In all of these songs, the desire to hear both parts made me consider how to approach them, and I realized that these sections can be played with double-stops. And there you have it—both recorded guitar parts adapted for live performance (and a new trick learned in the process)!
Jimmy is a fearless player. He plays with command, authenticity, and has a signature relaxed feel, which does not come easily to me. I often have to keep in check the temptation to get overly surgical in learning the parts, and really concentrate not just on what he plays, but on how he plays it. Feel is nebulous, and trying to emulate Jimmy’s is an ongoing challenge. I remember having a funny moment of realization as I was sitting with my metronome, diligently trying to nail a particular lick in the solo of "Dazed and Confused." I was working and working and working, and then it hit me that my approach was all wrong—that what I was going for wasn’t even how Jimmy played it. The lick wasn’t razor-precise, and that was part of what made it exciting and dangerous-sounding. Getting all classical about it would have compromised the feel and intention.
Playing Jimmy Page’s parts on stage with three amazing musicians is such an honor and education. I am so grateful to get to do what I most love—play music—and the idea that the people who come to our shows enjoy what we do is my favorite example of perfect symbiosis. People often tell me I look like Jimmy, which I take as a compliment. I don’t think it’s just because he bears a rather uncanny resemblance to my dad. I think it has more to do with my deep love for the music and my gratitude to get to play some of the greatest guitar parts ever written. I believe when you play something that you feel you own in some way—either through having created it, as Jimmy did, or having had it create part of who you are as a musical being—you play it with a special love and respect and joy.
