Some pics from the exhibition...

This will just be a remaster of stuff we’ve all seen and heard a thousand times before, plus Jimmy’s sanitized version of their history—don’t get too excited folks.

HD and LLM (can’t bring myself to write them) are just plain embarrassing ...the rest are fine by me.

Yes I’m afraid to say I am ..☹️

Agreed ..they have certain something

What a joke “band “ —attractive tho !

Physical Graffiti Presence I II IV Houses of the Holy Coda III In Through The Out Door

😂😂😂

Indeed ..great to see the man can still play,

Not with his left leg bent like that ..he usually stands with legs apart but fairly straight and leaning backwards ....

I’m in New York mid July so will definitely visit-I would have thought tho that. they could have modelled a typical Jimmy pose -I have NEVER seen a pic of Jimmy standing and playing in this position !

The only thing left for Jimmy to do of any real value now is to get on and write his autobiography-before it’s too late. Somehow I doubt we’ll ever get to read it though......

Anyone seen this yet ? https://www.mrjimmymovie.com/ here’s a review from “The Hollywood Reporter”: Peter Michael Dowd's beguiling documentary chronicles the good times and bad times of Japanese Jimmy Page impersonator Akio Sakurai. It's not quite right to call Akio Sakurai an impersonator. "Inhabiter" is more apt. And as shown in Peter Michael Dowd's documentary Mr. Jimmy, which takes its title from Sakurai's onstage moniker, he's certainly worked hard to get to that point. Since the age of 19, Sakurai has been obsessed with Led Zeppelin, particularly the rock group's virtuoso guitarist, Jimmy Page. His passion is all-consuming, to a point that would shame, and perhaps alarm, even the most self-styled fanboy. Think there's only one way to play "Stairway to Heaven"? Think again. Sakurai can perform distinct note-for-note "live" versions from any era of Zeppelin you'd care to name. But it's not just the music: Sakurai is also a student of Page's very essence — how he dressed, how he moved, the instruments (down to their discrete mechanical components) that he used to conjure his particular magic. For 30 years, Sakurai, the son of a kimono maker, performed in Tokyo clubs to small, appreciative audiences. Then in 2012, Page himself came to a Mr. Jimmy show and the confluence of icon and emulator (archive footage included in the doc reveals that Page was visibly ecstatic at this tribute) reoriented Sakurai's career path. Dowd just happened to discover Sakurai in the early days of his move from Japan to Los Angeles, where he aims to perform the Zeppelin catalog full-time. A good chunk of the film follows Sakurai's work with the tribute band Led Zepagain, the members of which often appear bemused by their bandmate's dedication. There's a fair share of tension underlying their bafflement, much of it cultural. Several times Sakurai talks about the Japanese resolve to do one thing extremely well — a steadfast combination of competitiveness and devotion that's alien to many American sensibilities. Whenever he gently but firmly schools Swan Montgomery, Zepagain's Robert Plant avatar, in the minutiae of lyric pronunciation, you can sense awe and irritation battling for emotional primacy. Montgomery ultimately lands on the side of perceived audience expectation. Led Zeppelin was Led Zeppelin and thus could indulge performative flights of fancy like 20-minute-plus Page guitar solos (which you better believe Sakurai can mirror near-perfectly). Should a tribute band, even a great one, have a similar privilege? Since at best Led Zepagain is still a carbon copy of the original, isn't it better, and more lucrative, to do covers of the hits in digestible chunks? It isn't fair to say that Sakurai's goal is indulgence. So what is it, exactly? Certainly his work goes well beyond imitation, staking claim in the uncanniest of valleys. In one sequence, Dowd dissolves between both Sakurai and a younger Page thrashing onstage, and they blend so seamlessly that you often forget you're not always watching the real thing. When you can see the seams, Sakurai's exertions come off as nostalgic kitsch. But when he fully "gets" Page, it's something else — a channeling, of sorts, of an intoxicating moment that's been lost to time. Sakurai's aim, then, is to shake off the self and transform, even if only for a sublime split second, into someone else from somewhere else — dolator mutated gloriously into bygone idol. There's certainly pleasure in that, though the degree to which this is a truly worthwhile pursuit will vary between viewer. Even Dowd seems torn, at times, as to whether he's celebrating his subject's rigor or exposing it as a fannish fraud. (The film's intentionally truncated last scene, especially, suggests several overall readings, some pro, some con.) It's nonetheless the very slipperiness of Sakurai's passion — to humbly become the god he worships — that continually compels. Cast: Akio Sakurai, Rie Nakahara, Kiyomi Osawa, Junko Sakurai, Shinji Kishimoto, Atsushi Iwasaki, Naoki Washida, Makoto Fukano, Kiyo Yokoseki, Hiroshi Kokai Director-producer-editor: Peter Michael Dowd Executive producer: Paula Dowd Cinematographers: Matthew Blute, Ivan Kovac Sound designer: Jeffrey Jousan Additional sound recording: Elizabeth Aubert, Gabe Stewart Aerial cinematography: Jesse Brunt Assistant editors: Yukari Kamiya, Ami Shimada Additional cinematography: Spencer Byam-Taylor, Michael Parry, Patrick Stringer Colorist: Harris Charalambous Music supervisor: Brooke Wentz Publicity contact: David Magdael Venue: SXSW Film Festival (24 Beats Per Second) 110 minutes

Thanks X-will check them out !

Hi Scarlet ...I’m 56 -so no spring chicken ! Thanks for the recommendations, will definitely check these bands out and let you know how I get on. I’m only just getting into Joe Bonamassa-man he can play !