Among all of the albums in Led Zeppelin's catalog, I had always believed 1976's Presence was the most underrated. Granted, it is a holding pattern album, rush recorded after Robert Plant's car accident prevented them from touring, which makes the decision to quickly enter the studio either based on an altruistic desire to give their fans something (otherwise known as "we owe it to them!"), or just a means to take their money (as in "they owe it to us!"), all depending on how cynical you view musicians and the music industry. Nevertheless, Presence finds Led Zeppelin just one year removed from their tour de force Physical Graffiti. In other words, one would expect that they still had some gas left in the tank.

Well, after listening to Presence again recently, I have to say that it isn't quite up to snuff with their best work. Perhaps because the album was so hastily assembled, it lacks the eclecticism that separated Led Zeppelin from their laborious brethren. The album does not contain any folk or acoustic songs, and does not expand on the funk-rock the group examined on Physical Graffiti.

Instead, the focus of Presence is on good ol' rock and roll, laid on thick and heavy. To that end, the best songs on the album are the two that open each side, the galloping "Achilles Last Stand" and the hard blues "Nobody's Fault But Mine," respectively. On both numbers, John Paul Jones' bass grounds the beat, while Jimmy Page layers his guitars in both angular and melodic solos, and John Bonham gets to beat the living hell out of his drum kit.

"Achilles Last Stand," the title an in-joke referring to Plant's condition (the accident took place in Greece where Plant suffered a foot injury), is relentless. The music engulfs, then consumes, the listener as Plant muses on about sailing away "to sandy lands" and wandering through foreign locales. "Nobody's Fault But Mine" is actually a re-write of a Blind Willie Johnson blues number. Credited to Page and Plant, at least the boys sound like they are paying tribute to, rather than satirizing, the blues. The lyrics are reminiscent of a meeting-the-Devil-at-the-crossroads blues piece, with Plant singing about saving his soul and getting a monkey off his back. The start-stop rhythm, plus a crackling harmonica solo, help to add tension to this ferocious track.

As these are also two of the album's longer pieces, it makes up for the weak closer, "Tea for One," a monotonous slow blues number that plods along for nine and a half minutes. It contains the couplet "Sitting lookin' at the clock/Oh time moves so slow," a line that pretty much sums up my feelings about the song.

"Hots on for Nowhere" and "Candy Store Rock" are two short, catchy tracks that help to complement the longer pieces, though by themselves neither one is an integral part of the Led Zeppelin canon. In fact, the only way I can remember them is to recall that "Hots on for Nowhere" has the "la la la la yeah" chorus and "Candy Store Rock" contains the "oh baby baby" rockabilly lines.

While not an essential Led Zeppelin album, there is still enough on Presence for me to recommend it. Be forewarned, however, that each side opens strong and then gets progressively worse. But then I'd choose a so-so Led Zeppelin album over many of their contemporaries' output. Maybe I'm just mesmerized by the cover art with that weird black obelisk in every picture.

Recommended: Yes