Rock shock: Jimmy Page in Bangkok

Look who was in Bangkok the other day and the bastard didn’t even call me — Jimmy Page. I don’t know the bastard, of course, but still! Maybe he was fuming over the glowing review I’d given Eric Clapton’s biography.
The Nation’s Kitchana Lersakvanitchakul managed to round up a few pertinent facts for a story, but naturally the British rock god was press-shy, so it was all after-the-fact stuff. Evidently Page was in Thailand “resting” after all the work involved in Zeppelin’s triumphant “reunion” concert for Ahmet Ertegun’s charity in London in December and then turning 64 in January.
The local Warner Records managing director, Nadda Buranasiri, was in charge of ushering, and the next thing anyone knew, The Great Jimmy Page was standing inside rockers’ pub O-Leng down on Royal City Avenue, where all the cool people hand out. Rock historians will want to know that this was on February 3.
Eyewitness Ae Wizard, who also plays guitar, as his name might suggest, explained that Page gave pub owner and Season magazine editor Tiva Sarachudha the green light to muster some talent for a jam. Tiva and Nol “Or Inca” Singholka hit the phones and within 30 minutes had half of the Kingdom’s best headbangers clinking glasses with Jimmy (who apparently stuck to Coke).
They, at least, knew who he was. Most Thais will vaguely know “Stairway to Heaven”. Led Zeppelin per se, however, isn’t even in the rock pantheon for the majority here, who tend to favour the Scorpions, if not Michael Jackson. Unfortunately, as Ae Wizard noted, Zep songs are pretty intricate, so this got in the way of Page’s new band actually playing any.
But I don’t think there’s a serious rock fan out there who wouldn’t have donated one and a half kidneys for the chance to see and hear Page and his new pals play “House of the Rising Sun”, “Crossroads”, “Purple Haze” and “Little Wing” — which is what they did play.
Ae Wizard listed himself, Pop the Sun, Moo Kaleidoscope, Olarn Phromjai and Or Inca among the sidemen in the jam session. Page took a break, Ae said, and the guys treated him to a medley of Carabao songs, including “Refugee”.
Kitchana, who’s a headbanger himself, came up with these photos. I have no idea who took them, so anyone swiping them from here really ought to credit The Nation or Dorseyland and we’ll take the court proceedings from there.
The amiable ritual of hand-shaking and snapshot-posing swept up musicians Ae, Moo, Olarn, Asanee Chotikul, Surasee Itthikul, Somchai Kamlertkul and Manote Puttan, plus Grammy Records’ Kris Thomas and DJs Pong and Wasana Weerachatplee.

There are, however, several questions that seem doomed to go tragically unanswered:
* Why are there no photos of the band playing?
* Whose guitar did Page use?
* How much does he want for it?
* Did anyone, anyone at all, bother recording the jam on audiotape or video, for God’s sake?
As a journalist I have to admit that Page was right to avoid alerting the Bangkok news media. I would have followed him around for the entire duration of his stay in Thailand, using a night-vision camera if necessary.
On February 8 Page and a pair of unidentified Western pals made their own way to Overtone, another music club on Royal City Avenue. They merely sat with the regulars listening to Chatree “Ohm” Kongsuwan playing tunes from his new album. No jam session, then.

I often wondered just what Christopher Simon Sykes did as ghost writer, particularly when Eric unwittingly wears his male chauvinism on his sleeve as he drones on about the many women in his life. He admits he’s never been any good with women and acutely explains the psychological reasons why, but as much as readers will sympathise over his abandonment by his mother, couldn’t Sykes have helped him sound less like an idiot when he was constantly referring to one female conquest after another as pretty or ravishing or voluptuous?
I’d always believed Eric was already with Cream by the time the “Clapton is God” graffiti popped up around London, but he tells me that was during the Blues Breakers period, in 1965. He does admit to having felt pressured by it, but doesn’t seem as perturbed as other biographers have suggested. Three decades later he was actually collecting “graffiti art”, though he doesn’t appear to see a link. 

To begin at the beginning, though, my weathered old typewritten concert list seemed a bit muddled when I dusted it off recently to check the concert details. It insisted that I saw two Genesis shows at Massey Hall within a few months of each other. How could that be? I distinctly remember the triumph at Massey Hall, with the tunes from what was then the new album, “Selling England by the Pound”, sailing through the air along with the older stuff; and then there was the show that followed at Maple Leaf Gardens when “The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway” came out.
In terms of honesty, integrity and the level of intimacy that he somehow manages to maintain in vast arenas packed with people, no one can beat him. No one comes close. And the range and depth of his music is approached by only a few other artists, Neil Young being one.















