So why is Led Zeppelin’s Houses of the Holy on this best 1,000 albums ever thing?
For a chunk of my high school existence, Led Zeppelin’s first six albums comprised a core foundation of my musical identity.
For example, in my piece on Led Zeppelin IV (#56 of best 1,000 albums ever), I detail two funny-meets-cringe stories that directly stemmed from two different junior proms that I attended.
Kids out there, I’m interrupting here with a brief PSA: if I can convey one important and potentially life altering lesson, it’s this: don’t go to more than one junior prom. One is enough. Trust me.
Anyway, every Led Zeppelin album offers its own kind of journey and rewards, and I’ve always found Houses of the Holy to be the band’s concise and eclectic masterpiece.
At eight songs that check in at just over forty minutes, it’s all high points, including the classic English folk-inflected blues rock of “Over the Hills and Far Away,” the groovy funk jam of “The Crunge,” the reggae rock of “D’yer Mak’er,” the dreamy psychedelia of “The Rain Song,” and the sun shiny hard rock of “The Ocean.”
We’re entering the phase of the best 1,000 albums ever project where it seems that every single song opens the door to memories, stories, rooms within my good old personal Mind Castle that are opened with very specific musical keys.
There’s even the cover art, which via Wikipedia tells us was “inspired by Arthur C. Clarke’s novel Childhood’s End. The cover is a collage of several photographs which were taken at the Giant’s Causeway, Northern Ireland, by Aubrey Powell of Hipgnosis.”
My wife and I spent a few weeks in Ireland and Northern Ireland in 2019 and stayed near Giant’s Causeway. As it happened, we got to see my old friend Aaron, who I had known for many years as a fellow old school blogger and fellow pop culture fanatic, and met in person for the first time.
And of course we had to see the stunning basalt columns that form the backdrop of Houses of the Holy’s cover art. It was a blustery day in early March, and I spent all kinds of time trying to recreate the fantastic and trippy cover art and I’m sure I made a mash of it.
I’m not in a position to know if cover art has the same impact on younger people today in this age of digital music and streaming, so in a way I feel lucky that I’m old enough to have this kind of specific connection to art and music.
Those trippy, mystical vibes are draped all over Houses of the Holy (including the album title itself, of course). There’s “No Quarter,” which might not be Led Zeppelin’s weirdest song, but it’s definitely its most mysterious.
I recall being in the throes of my newfound Led Zeppelin fascination when I was a kid, and “No Quarter” unlocked for me how crucial John Paul Jones is for the band.
Wikipedia notes that on this track alone, Jones plays something called the EMS VCS3, a “portable analogue synthesizer with a flexible modular voice architecture,” electric piano, and regular piano. I love the moody, atmospheric soundscape set on this seven-minute long track, eventually culminating in Jimmy Page’s dark guitar riff dominating.
Side note that this song also fostered a lifelong fascination with the saying, “no quarter.” I was locked in on this notion forevermore by the climactic scene from Rob Roy – kind of a forgotten gem these days – when Liam Neeson’s titular character and the Big Bad played by Tim Roth agree for “no quarter asked… or given” when they face off in a sword fighting duel.
The unusual groove and syncopated beat of “The Crunge” helped to open up my musical mind to the wonders of funk, a genre I’d sink deeply into during college and post-college years in New York City.
Part of it – and that goes for funk as well, often enough – was teaching me that music can be weird and loose, even fun. And I also must note that to this day while on road trips with my wife, I’ll eventually vamp into has anybody seen the bridge… where’s that confounded bridge? It’s a law of being a Led Zeppelin superfan that one is compelled to do this, yes?
I think it’s important to note that Houses of the Holy opens with two songs – “The Song Remains the Same” and “The Rain Song” – that are relatively long and relatively gentle by Led Zepp standards. Both songs are fantastic, and exquisitely produced. Houses is a gentle Zeppelin album in many ways, and even a joyous one.
And indeed, we get the song called “Dancing Days” in the middle of the album – lightly groovy and breezy in the best kind of ways – followed by the reggae rock perfection of “D’yer Mak’er,” a song as much as any that makes you want to get close to a beach with a favorite beverage in hand.
Then of course the rocking, ebullient “The Ocean,” with its unusual time signature and all-timer Jimmy Page guitar hook, closes out Houses. Map those vibes with sweet yet powerful “Over the Hills and Far Away,” and the album evokes movement, travel, celebration, life.
That’s pretty great stuff from a collection of songs produced over half a century ago.
Some stats & info about Led Zeppelin – Houses of the Holy
- What kind of musical stylings does this album represent? Rock Music, British Bands, Heavy Metal, Hard Rock, Album Rock, Arena Rock, Blues Rock
- Rolling Stone’s greatest 500 albums ranking – #278
- All Music’s rating – 5 out of 5 stars
- When was Houses of the Holy released? 1973
- My ranking, the one you’re reading right now – #22 out of 1,000
Led Zeppelin’s Houses of the Holy on Spotify
A lyrical snippet from Led Zeppelin’s Houses of the Holy that’s evocative of the album in some way, maybe
Many times I’ve lied, many times I’ve listened. Many times I’ve gazed along the open road.
What does the “best 1,000 albums ever” mean and why are you doing this?
Yeah, I know it’s audacious, a little crazy (okay, maybe a lot cray cray), bordering on criminal nerdery.
But here’s what it’s NOT: a definitive list of the Greatest Albums of All-Time. This is 100% my own personal super biased, incredibly subjective review of what my top 1,000 albums are, ranked in painstaking order over the course of doing research for nearly a year, Rob from High Fidelity style. Find out more about why I embarked on a best 1,000 albums ever project.