When Spanish painter and photographer Martin Frias asks me who my favorite rock band is, I say, "The Beatles." I can tell by the mischievous glint in his eye that this answer is far from correct. "That's not rock 'n' roll," he laughs, rolling his "r's" in a thick Catalan accent. "That's pop music."
Most of these interpretations do the material proud, though some may leave you wanting to, well, hide under the covers. Making up your own lists and sharing with friends might make for a more soul-satisfying parlor game than, say, Geography.
Is it possible there is some truth to the ascension of our own spirit by way of this support system we know as the "stairway"? What would it take to purify the soul in order to begin progression of such journey while here on Earth?
"I think the culture today is very, very different from what it was in the '60s, and I feel lucky that I grew up at a time when I had these very strong female role models. They were strong women, but their power was very much connected to their creativity and their voice."
With looser jeans and tighter arrangements, Plant moves a bit slower but still displays the same charisma and gallantry of his previous life. Thankfully, he doesn't totally ignore those prancing "Dancing Days."
The glories of Robert Plant are that he isn't sitting in a castle in Wales, curled around a bottle as night descends. At 62, he looks like a man who's lived, and lived intensely, and hasn't given a thought about plastic surgery.
As a showman, Peter Wolf is right up there with Mick Jagger and James Brown. He doesn't put out a batch of unrelated songs, he makes what used to be called "albums," and they take you on a carefully sequenced adventure.