Robert Plant and Band of Joy Rock Hill Auditorium

Jenny Hinkle
Sigma Kappa

We have many kinds of obligations in life. The vast majority of these are things I try to avoid: essays, studying, getting a job…  But there is another kind of obligation. The experience obligations are opportunities you can’t pass up. Things that you don’t want to have to say you missed. Seeing Robert Plant at Hill Auditorium was one of my experience obligations. And I am so glad to say that I fulfilled it.

The show started at 8:00 on Friday, January 21. Still rocking his signature flaxen, wavy locks, Plant continues to emanate the rock god vibe. The energetic, authentic opening performance by the duo North Mississippi Allstars made up of brothers Luther and Cody Dickinson, set the soulful tone that Plant and the Band of Joy would continue. It is a kind of mournful Americana rock, an elemental style that predates Led Zeppelin’s classic rock.

Hill was buzzing as the intermission came to a close, a noticeable anticipation in the air as concert goers waited for their first glimpse of the legend himself. The lights dimmed and the crowd erupted as Plant and his band strolled onstage and started rocking. And rocking is the most accurate term to describe what went on that night. The band stuck to the musical roots of the genre, abandoning high-tech effects and sticking to the true nature of the sound produced by the instruments and pushing everything from the banjo to the harmonica to their full volume and complexity.

Although Robert Plant was the reason I decided that the concert was a Life tile that I couldn’t pass up, the band made the music. The connecting factor between the all-star cast was pure musical ability. It would not be a stretch to call everyone that was onstage that night a musical genius.

Darrell Scott played a variety of string instruments that defined the bluesy, Appalachian sound. Scott wowed the audience with one particularly impressive solo on the pedal steel guitar, an electric guitar that is characteristic of the American pure country sound that the band was trying to evoke.

Celebrated singer, songwriter and musician Buddy Miller was an anchor on lead guitar. His shoulder-length white hair swaying to the tempo from underneath his signature fedora. Miller’s talent as a live performer was demonstrated during the long jams of the night, extending each song flawlessly into a vamped up version of the album. He coordinated the dramatic arc of each song and developed the arc in relation to the rest of the band, reining everyone in at the right moment. Perhaps his greatest contribution to the show was his command of the Zeppelin classic "Rock and Roll," where he improved on a song that I thought had been perfected long ago.

One of the greatest strengths of the concert, however, was the sheer power of the vocals. Surprisingly, this power did not come solely from the legendary lead singer of Led Zeppelin. Singer-songwriter Patty Griffen’s haunting, rich voice was the perfect compliment to Plant’s iconic vocals, seamlessly alternating between back-up and lead on a couple of tracks that called for the raw emotion that is sometimes best conveyed by a woman. Scott and Miller added to the strength of the vocals, each taking their turn for a solo. More valuable than any individual’s voice, however, was the gospel that was created when they sang together. Each member found their own pitch, and when combined, well, it was a mixture of Fergie and Jesus.

Plant was the ringleader in this circus of musical perfection. In the face of a few feedback issues, he didn’t miss a beat. When a song seemed to be pushing the limit or getting repetitive, Plant looked around, and the song immediately changed to whatever direction it needed to go. He gently guided Griffen in their duets, and with one look from Plant she would change her course.

One would think that years of being worshipped as a rock god would go to his head, but I was struck by Plant’s humility. He never butt in and let the music evolve without vocals when it was needed. He gave due credit to every voice onstage, despite the real possibility that his would be overshadowed. And, of course, he knew how to handle the crowd. He was aware of what the night meant to the audience, and his commentary elicited a variety of emotion ranging from nostalgia to pure amazement. He seemed to be ultra-conscious of the changing musical climate, commenting on the difficulty of making “real” music in the age of Lady Gaga, drawing both laughs and nods of agreement from the audience.

And that’s why seeing Robert Plant and the Band of Joy was an obligation. Good rock music is by no means extinct, but I would go so far as to call it endangered. Records and MP3 files serve as fossils of a different time in music, but they cannot fully convey the experience of a live rock concert, even if most of the audience is over 50 and sitting down. Seeing the raw feeling on Plant’s face, however weathered, as he belts out the aching notes of "Tangerine" is something that I can say that I’ve experienced. And if I ever make a bucket list, I will write that down and cross it off.

Jenny is a freshman studying English. You may contact her at jrhinkle@umich.edu.