February 7, 1969
Chicago, IL US
Second set includes: White Summer ~ Black Mountainside, Babe I'm Gonna Leave You, As Long As I Have You (incl. Fresh Garbage, For What It's Worth), Dazed and Confused.
Led Zeppelin share the bill with Vanilla Fudge and Jethro Tull for 2 nights in Chicago.
Review excerpt: Making their Chicago debut were Led Zeppelin, the new supergroup a la Cream and Jeff Beck Group, led by former Yardbird guitarist Jimmy Page.
On stage, the group’s act is a balanced blend of unaffected musicianship - particularly Page – and strong physical presence – particularly vocalist Robert Plant.
Zeppelin’s portion of the show started a little slowly, with Jimmy sitting down and soloing on White Summer, from the old Yardbird days. I worried a bit, as he had said just before that they would mostly solo and improvise the second set and he wished I could have been there for the first.
Then came Babe I’m Gonna Leave You, the group’s arrangement of the traditional folk song which is my favorite cut from the new Atlantic album. All doubts vanished.
Plant is a superb stylist, but that doesn’t keep him from enjoying himself at the same time. He peppered his deliveries with lines and phrases from other songs. Underground radio announcer, Psyche and I played a game to see who could identify the most songs. I caught the beginning of Buffalo Springfield’s For What It’s Worth during Fresh Garbage, as well as the end of Summertime and picked up on By The Time I Get to Phoenix in Babe.
But she won by spotting, of all things, Green Door in the middle of the encore, Dazed and Confused.
The encore came when the audience – and almost the whole wall-to-wall crowd stayed around after the Vanilla Fudge to see Zeppelin and the other group, Jethro Tull and absolutely refused to let the four go. They were halfway up the backstage stairs when the cheers brought them back.
The added number was another showstopper. Page bowed his guitar and the sound is incredible in its eeriness, during the number and his interplay with Plant was at its best. The two stood facing each other, throwing the musical ball back and forth, nodding in time with each beat.
It would have been enough. Even without John Paul Jones, a bassist who can hold his own with any in the business (a triumph on one solo sneaked on Mark Stein’s organ), or John Bonham on drums. (ChicagoTrib., February 1969)