ALL THAT GLITTERS IS GOLD
By 1971 we had come to expect explosive opening gambits from Zeppelin albums; and had been no slouches. But as a statement of intent, was something else: a song that seemed to change the temperature in the room, with Robert Plant’s unadorned shriek announcing that what we were holding in our hands – this strange, archaic-looking vinyl set, with its cover images of peeling wallpaper and an old man gathering twigs – was the
