Chicago’s “Bistro” is all strobe lights…Robert is dancing. Jimmy, who seems to have some charcoal makeup around his eyes, is sitting in a booth with Peter Grant, Richard Cole, Clive Coulson…Robert was surveying the local talent at the Bistro without much enthusiasm. Of course Robert is pretty much a ladies’ man. A surprisingly straight looking man in his perhaps early forties approaches.
“You look very queeny,” he says to Robert, who is wearing a floral print bathrobe over an open-shirted blouse, tight jeans and lots of Indian jewelry…“Where are the groupies?” the man asks. “Are you one?” This to me.
“Naw,” says Plant, putting a protective arm around me, “she’s me wife.”
“Oh well then- if you already have a wife, perhaps you need a husband,” the man says, not blinking an eyelash.
“Well, I don’t think so,” Robert replies, “although if I did need one, it would probably be that man over there with the charcoal around his eyes.”
That first album was the first time that headphones meant anything to me. What I heard coming back to me over the cans while I was singing was better than the finest chick in all the land…I had a long ways to go with my voice then, but at the same time the enthusiasm and spark of working with Jimmy’s guitar shows through quite well…We were learning what got us off most and what got people off most, and what we knew got more people back to the hotel after the gig.
Robert Plant, CREEM Magazine, 1974 (quoted in Jon Bream’s Whole Lotta Led Zeppelin)