Transcript
Jake Brennan (0:00)
Foreign I can only drink so much coffee. I get to the middle of the afternoon and I need to start powering through ad reads like this or responding to emails or jumping on a zoom and not falling asleep. And I don't want coffee. Coffee reminds me of the morning. I want that afternoon energy and I get it from five Hour Energy. They've got a ton of tasty caffeine flavors. Seventeen flavors in fact. Sour Apple five Hour Energy is like a shot of old school New England to wake me up on a sleepy afternoon. It's a little bit sour, just a tad bit sweet and super tasty. And the best part about my 5 hour energy shot is that I'm getting all the caffeine that I'd find in a 12 ounce premium cup of coffee without any sugar and without the sugar. Crash. These two ounce shots are portable and they're ready for me whenever I'm ready. Ready for you as well because I'm not trying to fall asleep on the zooms guys and I don't want you crashing out mid afternoon either. So find your flavor at five Hour Energy. Watermelon, Strawberry Banana, the Sour Apple five Hour Energy. My go to whatever you're looking for. Five Hour Energy. They've got a ton to choose from. Give your caffeine a flavor upgrade with 5 hour energy shots. Get yours in store and online at www.5hourenergy.com or Amazon. Today you guys feel that that's the summer. It's starting to fade away. It's the fall creeping in with those cooler temps. And Quince my go to brand for great fitting, great looking quality clothing. They got me covered with fall staples that are going to freshen up my wardrobe. I'm rocking the European linen chore jacket right now. It's lightweight enough to layer over a flannel, but heavy enough to keep you warm if you're just wearing a T shirt under it. And it looks awesome. The color is cool. It's this martini olive color and you know who doesn't like olives or martinis? Also, I bragged about Quince's Mongolian cashmere crewneck sweater before for a reason because it looks awesome and it's super comfortable. I've already got one in heather gray, but I'm going to nab the black one from Quince very shortly. Perfect for the fall. Quince is my go to guys. I've been talking about them for months now. They're my go to for durable classic clothing without the elevated price tag. What makes quints different? Well, they partner directly with ethical factories and skip the middlemen so you get top tier fabrics and great craftsmanship at half the price of similar brands. So if you want to look like one of those icons we feature here in Disgraceland and not spend a fortune doing so, then keep it classic and cool this fall with long lasting staples from quince. Go to quince.com disgraceland for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. That's Q U I-N C E.com disgraceland free shipping and 365 day returns. Quince.com disgraceland if you feel like modern music culture doesn't reflect what you care about, then you're not alone. Disgraceland listeners realize that Chasm, a corporate algorithmic studio storytelling machine, keeps trying to sanitize music history, stripping out the true crime. Disgraceland exists to take these stories back. And now you can wear that rebellion by sporting some of our new merch. Long and short sleeved, Just say no to Chasm T shirts, Disgraceland hoodies, and our zombie Elvis Johnny Paycheck approved black trucker hat. Our merch, like our content, is built for the musically obsessed, the self proclaimed discos who know that real music history is dangerous and far cooler than whatever the hell mainstream music culture is serving us up right now. This merch is way cool. I would wear every item in the shop. It's an exclusive and limited run. It's only available until September 30th, so order yours now at shop disgraceland.com Disgraceland is a production of Double Elvis. This is a story about a house, about hallways that whisper and staircases that creak under footsteps that aren't yours. It's about a fire that burns in a hearth while something unseen breathes in the shadows. It's also a story about a band, about a guitarist with a taste for the occult and a drummer too frightened to sleep at night. It's about the biggest rock and roll group in the world whose members went into something supposedly haunted and emerged with multiple masterpieces. And since this story is about Led Zeppelin, this is also a story about great music. Unlike that music I played for you at the top of the show, that wasn't great music. That was a preset loop for my melotron called Big Snakes in Big Lakes MK2. I played you that loop because I can't afford the rights to Maggie May by Rod Stewart. And why would I play you that specific slice of May December cheese? Could I afford it? Because that was the number one song in America on November 8, 1971 and that was the day the Led Zeppelin released their fourth and biggest album to date. An album that may have cast its own spell on the surroundings in which it was made. On this episode. Pentagrams, chalk, circles, strange noises. A gray man on the stairs. An old house called Headley Grange. And this our part 2 episod on LED Zeppelin. I'm Jake Brennan and this is disgrace. 1970, 26 year old Malcolm Dett aimed his flashlight at the front door of the imposing 18th century manor. There in the light, he inserted an old key into the lock. He heard the bolt retract and push the door open. It made a long creaking sound as if it had been closed for years. Deep eerie moan that echoed inside the darkened foyer. And then he stepped into the house just as a cold wind kicked up from nearby Loch Ness. Malcolm was here on behalf of Led Zeppelin guitarist Jimmy Page, who had hired him as caretaker upon his purchase of what was known as Boleskin House, formerly owned by one of the Scottish Highland's most notorious residents, the famed occultist Aleister Crowley. It was Jimmy's growing fascination, some would say obsession with Crowley, that led to this purchase. Sure, the Beatles had included Crowley's face on the collage cover art of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. But Jimmy Page went one step further. As Jimmy did when it came to his obsessions. He bought the creepy dude's 35 acre estate. And now Malcolm here didn't share Jimmy's belief in the power of Aleister Crowley or in his so called magic. And that's magic with a K, understand? So none of that David Copperfield bullshit again M A G I C K. I'm talking about the real stuff. The dark stuff. The stuff that can change your life if you harness it correctly. Or so the thinking went at first when Malcolm walked inside, he wasn't steeling himself for things that went bump in the night. He was six foot something, a rough hewn London boy. He could hold his own. And no bald bow tied long dead boogeyman was going to rattle him. Malcolm was just a skeptic fumbling his way through the dark. And I mean that literally because there was no working electricity at Bolskin House. In fact, the whole place was dilapidated and looked like it could fall down at any moment. Malcolm pointed his flashlight to the right as another gust rattled the windows. A long empty hallway awaited his footsteps. So he walked until he came upon a large dining room. And as he used his flashlight to look around, he saw something he'd never seen before. At least not in the flesh. There on the floor was a large pentagram, hand drawn or maybe even carved into the hardwood, and enclosed inside a circle with a makeshift altar at the center. Malcolm suddenly got a feeling he'd never experienced before. He was confused and ill at the same time. It was a feeling of dread. His hands began to shake, and then suddenly his flashlight went dead. Fucking hell, he muttered, slapping the side of the metal casing with the palm of his hand. The flashlight sputtered back to life. As it did, Malcolm could hear something coming from elsewhere in the house. Heavy, belabored breathing. Panting almost. And then the panting turned into something else. A growl, a snarl, low and hoarse. And then came a scratching sound. Long nails like talons running up and down the length of a wall. Malcolm scanned the room and there was nothing else. No one. No one that he could see, that is. Something was lingering here, and he certainly couldn't ask Jimmy Page what it was. The city of Inverness was over 500 miles from London, so it's not like the guitarist just popped in whenever he felt like it. Jimmy bought this place to buy the place to feed his obsession, not to live there. And again, no electricity. There wasn't even a telephone. Damn, man, Malcolm thought, if only Jimmy were here, he'd be asking his boss a lot of questions. Because as the scratching sound grew louder and closer, Malcolm was beginning to question everything he thought he knew. 40 miles south of London in Hampshire, a big, boxy silver van rumbled slowly up bucolic country road before coming to a stop in front of a large three story stone building. The van housed the Rolling Stones mobile recording studio, trailing behind a few more cars carrying Jimmy Page, Robert Plant, John Paul Jones, and John Bonham, collectively the group known as Led Zeppelin. The members of the biggest band in the world stepped from the voice vehicles, all four of them sporting newly grown beards and gazed up at the impressive English manner known as Headley Grange. The place was being swallowed by lush green vines, snaking and slithering like the rings of a tree. The overgrowth told of Headley's history, the backbreaking toil of the workers who built the house years ago in 1795, the hordes of the sick and the old for whom it was built, paupers and orphans, motherless bastards and other Dickensian unfortunates who once came here seeking refuge and then died here, died as unknowns, as the forgotten, the ones who had been cast from society and life and now were cursed to haunt. Or perhaps it was just Jimmy Page who was now thinking of these things Because Jimmy Page got good and giddy when he looked up at this place in all its ruinous glory. He could think of nothing more exciting than unleashing his band inside such a historic structure overrun with ghosts of centuries past. And that was exactly the plan. Here, inside the walls of Headley Castle Grange, Zeppelin would rehearse and possibly even record songs for their new album, Led Zeppelin 3. You know, if the walls could talk and all that. Earlier in the year, Jimmy Page and Robert Plant had decamped to a place called Bronrar, a remote cottage outside a small market town in Wales where Robert used to vacation as a child with his family. Inspired by their surroundings surroundings and far away from the metallic grind of the city, this was where Jimmy and Robert first pivoted from the heaviness they trafficked in to a more pastoral acoustic sound. This is where they wrote many of the songs that would make up Led Zeppelin three songs like Friends, Tangerine, that's the Way, and naturally for Honor Stop. It's also where they began to work on songs that would come out on future albums like over the Hills and Flowers, Far Away, down by the Seaside and the Rover. They enjoyed it so much that they wanted to actually record there with the band, but it was too small. So the goal became to find a place that could accommodate them all, but still retain that very specific vibe. And thus, with the help of their manager, Peter Grant's secretary, they happened upon Headley Grange. Now leaving the white walled, sterile environment of a professional studio for a house in the countryside wasn't a new concept for rock bands. Ever since the band hit the scene two years earlier in 1968 with Music from Big Pink, the world of rock and roll had pivoted toward a more homegrown, earthbound model. But Jimmy Page and Robert Plant and Led Zeppelin had their own way of doing things. They weren't going on a pilgrimage to Woodstock as George Harrison had, hunting down the band like a lost soul seeking the hermit's guidance on the mountaintop. Jimmy, for one, served his own master Jimmy did what thou wilt. Besides, when it came to George Harrison and the Beatles, they were yesterday's news. Led Zeppelin had just topped the reader's poll in the UK's very influential Melody Maker magazine. The first band in eight years to push the Fab Four from the number one spot, Jimmy threw open Headley's front door. Almost instantly, he was hit with a potent stench, like something had been fermenting for decades. The odor went to Jimmy's head and he was drunk on it. Robert ambled in behind him, arching his neck and looking to the high ceiling that stretched all the way up the winding three floor staircase. With his raggedy beard and now this castle of a home to make music in, he felt like a character right out of Tolkien's Middle Earth. Robert was followed by Zeppelin's rhythm section, Jonesy and Bonzo, who walked in with these puzzled looks on their faces like here. This is where we're going to be hanging out for the next few weeks. The place was damp. It was dank. It was lacking all the creature comforts that a band like Led Zeppelin figured they should be indulging in. Bonzo had 21 cars for Christ's sakes. For him and for Jones, he Headley looked like some D dump you'd squat in when you were barely getting by on the come up. But Jimmy Page obviously saw something else in the place. He just smiled and said, let's get to work boys. Robert nodded. Jonesy and Bonzo shrugged their shoulders. Little did any of them know that when Jimmy talked about work, he was talking about more than just making music. He was talking about reviving a spirit that lay dormant inside these walls. Jimmy Page was talking about waking something.
