Whew.
The final possible legal challenge to Led Zeppelin’s ownership of Stairway To Heaven has been defeated.
The band were sued for copyright in 2014 over claims they had stolen the song’s opening riff from Taurus, by a US band called Spirit.
Led Zeppelin won the case in 2016, but it was revived on appeal in 2018.
A court of appeals upheld the original verdict earlier this year. Now, the US Supreme Court has declined to hear the case, definitively ending it.
Hard to believe…. John Bonham passed away 40 years ago.
I’ll argue with anyone: the greatest R&R album of all time is LZII.
IV is my favorite, minus the “thunk” between tracks on the old, tape chewing, shit box 8-track. Replaced a couple of times each as 8-track, cassette, disk, etc.
Apple has a remastered IV you can break glass with.
LZ’s remake of When the Levee Breaks is one great driving tune. Or if you happen to be a rower on a galley ship.
SMH when reading about how Professor Page recorded/produced things. The man is insanely genius.
I distinctly remember the moment I gave up on 8-track. The player I had finagled into my ‘68 dodge panel van (fire engine red, Crager mags, yellow fur interior) ate my Machine Head tape. Pulling the cartridge out with the tape stretching back like some weird thin intestine being chowed by The Creature….. G__DAMMIT!! Never trusted 8-track again but for some reason kept the case of tapes for years and years afterwords…. “Someday, they’ll make a really good player.” Useless Treasure.
I never understood why people bought pre-recorded cassette tapes.
When you have a chance, Wiz, take a (hundredth, millionth?) listen to The Lemon Song on II. But this time zoom in on Jones’ bass. I gar-en-tee you’ll grin a new grin.
Oh, I’ve done worse than buy pre-recorded cassette tapes. Once upon a time (late ‘76) I apparently purchased an Akai reel to reel and 80lbs of speakers that I had shipped from the P.I. to my parent’s house in Indiana. All new in the original packaging shipped in a wooden crate. No recollection of that at all. Quite embarrassing at the time. What’s in the box, son? What box, ma?