While on my trip to DC, I went to breakfast with a bunch of cousins, all males. We usually try to gather when I am in town to catch up. My father’s sister, Sehon, has 6 adult children – 5 males and one female. My dad’s other sister, Joyce (Jean), has 3 sons. So the male genes run strong on this side of the family. My cousin Anthony, Aunt Jean’s youngest son, arranged for us to have breakfast. He picked Marie’s Diner, a place new to me but familiar to few of the crew. My Dad and I drove down Anthony’s house to meet with him, Clyde, James (Boss), and Jason.
Robert Plant Is Tired of Answering the Obvious Question.
For fuck’s sake: There’s no Led Zeppelin reunion in the works. Instead, he’s always looking forward.
It’s hard being Robert Plant. Wherever he goes, the question hangs in the air: When will Led Zeppelin reform again? Will Led Zeppelin reform?
When I meet the legendary singer in Manhattan’s Lower East Side for lunch at the fancy eatery in his hotel, he quickly does an about-face after entering the restaurant. Whether it’s the preternaturally lithe figure Plant still cuts at 69, causing heads to spin as we enter, or the muzak filling the posh bistro, he’d quickly surveyed the landscape and sensed the vibes weren’t right.
In a flash, we settle onto a couch in a dark corner of the hotel lounge and order espressos—his white—and mineral water. But still, his legend looms large. There’s a bearded 40-something in a far corner, about twenty yards away. As we talk, it’s obvious he’s eavesdropping, at least as best he can.
Perhaps it’s that constant audience that leads Plant to defend his current status as a solo artist; he’s in New York City for a show at the venerable Beacon Theater as part of the 21-date tour in support of his fantastic new album Carry Fire that he teases will be followed by a larger trek this summer. He literally bats away questions about Led Zeppelin, which will mark its 50th anniversary with a newly spiffed-up live album next month and a coffee table book later this year, with a dismissive wave of his hand.
Nearly forty minutes into our encounter, I finally raise the specter of the elephant in every room Plant enters. “I have to ask, because my editors would kill me if I didn’t: Do you ever see going back to do the big gig?”
“My suggestion to you is to make sure you wear the right clothes when they kill you,” Plant fires back without missing a beat.
But lest you think Robert Plant is a grumpy old curmudgeon, trading off the blessings of his past glories while indulging in vanity projects, let me put your mind at ease. Plant is charming and warm, happy to talk about anything you throw at him, although doing so at every turn on his own terms.
And he’s earned the right. His solo releases and tours in the ’80s and ’90s were a clear departure from his Zeppelin days, and his work with his band since 2001, the Sensational Space Shifters, on full display on a new live DVD, the Band of Joy album with Patty Griffin, and his 2007 five-time Grammy winning album Raising Sand with Alison Krauss are all a testament to his restless nature as an artist, as well as the high quality of his solo output.
In fact, Carry Fire, released last fall, is one of the best albums Plant’s ever made. And that includes his work with Led Zeppelin.
So let’s just let him set the record straight, about the past, the present, and the future.
With releases marking the 50th anniversary of Zeppelin, and the most recent reunion with his former bandmates now more than ten years ago, Robert Plant considers Led Zeppelin firmly in the past.
All those projects, well, they’re going to do somebody some good somewhere, and that’s good. But you don’t even have to talk to me if all you want to know about is Led Zeppelin. Thirty-eight years ago [Zeppelin’s drummer] John Bonham passed away, that’s all I know. That’s it. That’s the story. You know, Led Zeppelin was an amazing, prolific fun factory for a period of time, but it was three amazing musicians and a singer living in the times. Those times. That’s not going to stop me doing what I’m doing now. So that’s a headline, or not a headline. It doesn’t matter to me.
Instead he prefers to challenge himself and his audience—even if that alienates Led Zeppelin fans.
If I didn’t I’d be a whore, and I’m never going to be that. I’m only a singer, and therefore I can get bored really quickly. And if I get bored really quickly, what am I doing nearly 70 years old being bored? No chance. So I move on all the time.
“Immigrant Song” had nothing to do with “That’s the Way.” “That’s the Way” had nothing to do with “The Crunge.” And that’s got nothing to do with “Heaven Knows” or “The Way I Feel.” Some of it has been an attempt at some kind of social commentary, and other stuff was a way to close the door to the dream factory. But I’ve still got a foot in that door, which is no small thing with the industry in the state it’s in, and I want to use that to play with words and sounds and to find exciting new ways to make music.
The fact of that is, in the last ten or fifteen years, my work has been really well received. And it’s very nice to see, and it makes me feel a bit that I’m in the right place, at least for some people, even if other people just don’t know about it. I mean, it is basically about opening the blinds. Look, how many thousands of people are there in the airports that I travel through, who are amazed that they see me, yet have no idea of what I’m doing? Not a fucking clue. That’s how it goes, and I’m fine with that, especially since the emergency departments of the geriatric wards are filled with people like me, still hanging on, because there was something else before.
He tried making a second album with Alison Krauss, and would love to take another stab at it.
I wouldn’t have minded doing it again if we had actually had the impetus. Allison and I tried to make another record with [producer] T. Bone Burnett but the songs weren’t of the same standard. And we didn’t write songs—it wasn’t a songwriting environment—and so there was nothing to be done there. But even now she and I still talk about doing some more stuff. I have a huge collection of amazing American songs—songs I love, songs that would be easier for her to perhaps move into the space to tackle. But there’s no need—if it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work.
But surely there’s a lot of money to be made by reuniting with Led Zeppelin, especially in the corporatized world we live in.
Speak for yourself! But what about time? Time! Time is the mighty rearranger. That’s what it’s all about. If it’s easy, and it’s not of a great deal of consequence, okay. But when you’re in your seventies? You have to be really careful about maybe putting a bit more time into playing bingo, and enjoying the time you have left. For me, my time has got to be filled with joy and endeavor and humor and power and absolute self-satisfaction. That’s not with Led Zeppelin. That’s doing what I’m doing right now, with this band, on this tour.
Look, if substance was of no value, or of no significance, then I wouldn’t be trying to do anything. But I believe it is, so this is what I do and all this talk about this or that or the other—you know, selling out the Mojave Desert—it so archaic. It’s just such a ridiculous criteria by which to be judged. When you’ve been there, like me, and you know how shatteringly insular everything becomes, it makes my relationship with this carnival I’m with currently priceless. But to try and make it something to fit in with the a symbol of success just for the hell of it, or to go back to try to relive the glory days, I don’t think that’s really where I’m at at this time in my life.
But as for what I’ll be doing in five years time, I haven’t got the answer. I haven’t got a clue.
What’s on their minds besides an uncertain job market, wariness about marriage and student debt? For many, it’s their parents, said Deborah Duley, a psychotherapist and founder of Empowered Connections, a counseling practice that specializes in women, girls and the LGBTQ+ community.
“We went from a parent-focused society to a child-focused society, and this generation are the products of this flux in our parenting focus,“ Duley told HuffPost. “As a result, I hear consistent complaints that their parents are micromanaging their lives to the point of it being suffocating and overbearing.”
Duley and other therapists across the country share more parent-related complaints they hear from clients in their 20s and 30s.
01
I grew up with helicopter parents, and now I can’t function like a real adult.
“The No. 1 problem I see with millennials and their parents is one that millennials don’t complain about because they aren’t aware it’s even happening most of the time. You know there’s a problem when the mother of a 28-year-old calls to schedule a therapy consultation for her son. Parents of millennials are notoriously helicopter parents, which inhibits young adults from becoming independent and learning to solve their own problems.” ―Tara Griffith, a therapist and founder of Wellspace SF, a San Francisco community of licensed therapists, nutritionists and certified coaches
02
I feel like a failure by my parents’ standards.
“One theme I hear related to the parent-child relationship is not feeling good enough. Millennials grow up with parents who have high expectations, and failure is not only discouraged but it’s not even allowed in some instances. While parents want their children to be successful, the overall message has become if you aren’t successful by your parents’ expectations, then you’re a loser. A failure. You’re not good enough. Women from this generation in particular struggle with this as they also have to deal with society, social media and public opinion telling them they’re not good enough. Add on another layer of parent disapproval and it can be devastating. I see women paralyzed in their emotional growth because of the messages they’ve been fed about who they should be.” ―Duley
03
My parents don’t think I need therapy.
“A number of my clients have complained that their parents do not ‘believe’ in therapy or they view it as a sign of weakness. There’s a stigma associated with therapy for the parents. This often leads grown kids to feel invalidated or misunderstood, or they may believe that they are not ‘strong enough’ to handle their own problems. Some clients express frustration because they cannot openly talk to their parents about their mental health struggles. Consequently, they are unable to seek support from some of the most important people in their life.” ―Gina Delucca, a psychologist at Wellspace SF
04
My parents have become helicopter grandparents.
“Once they have kids, millennials are experiencing their own parents having strong opinions around their parenting styles and decisions. It can become an issue when people feel obligated to prioritize their parents’ opinions before their partners’ or their own. Parenting is a very individual journey, and many millennials receive criticism for the progressive ways they choose to parent their kids. It works best when individuals can hold to their own parenting values and communicate assertive boundaries with their family about the things they don’t want or need their involvement on.” ―Liz Higgins, a couples therapist in Dallas
