In our series where great musicians tell the stories behind memorable records from their back catalogue, the Led Zep frontman discusses his enduring love for Patty Griffin and why he’s happiest in the land of cider, Wolves and Welsh mythology
“I’m 17, full of myself, in a youth club with Noddy Holder …” It’s a warm-boned autumn afternoon in London’s Primrose Hill, and Robert Plant, 69, is luminous as a cartoon lion, a Soul Jazz records T-shirt tight over his belly, his golden mane winking in a dimly lit local French restaurant. Carry Fire, his 11th solo album (24th if you count collaborations and Led Zeppelin LPs) is just out, and with a little judicious nudging – Plant generally dislikes nostalgia – he’s looking back. We are somewhere in the West Midlands in 1966. “We’d borrow Noddy’s dad’s window-cleaning van for our gear, buckets clanking through the Black Country streets, so to have a record that was going to be pressed, have a dust sleeve – it was showing-off time.” He rears up. “‘Well, we’ve got this deal with CBS, Noddy.’ And Noddy goes: ‘That’s all right, we’ve got one with Columbia.’ And then I found out it was the same bloody song!”
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