You would have to contact the radio station. See post #32 of this thread for how one collector went about doing something similar in Australia.

We were talking about where Led Zeppelin liked to party in New York City. I just found this in Earl Wilson's column published in the June 6th 1977 Dallas Morning News: Led Zeppelin turned up at the Studio 54 disco...it may start opening at 11 instead of 10. Had always wondered if they ever dropped by. Naturally, we can't say for certain if all four of them went along. Studio 54 had opened at 354 West 54th Street on April 26th 1977, so it was definately the new place to be seen. Led Zeppelin had been staying at The Plaza hotel in New York for more than a week prior to their six-night-stand at Madison Square Garden that June.

A MIDNIGHT RIDE WITH LED ZEPPELIN Touring The Heartland With a Legendary Rock Band Led Zeppelin Will Appear at the Pontiac Silverdome Next Saturday Night Minneapolis - The 727 jet glides across the runway and halts gently at a private terminal. Floodlights along the perimeter cut through the gathering dusk to pick out the outline of a naked angel painted on the exterior of the cockpit, the logo of Swan Song Records, and just beneath it, the stylized lettering "Led Zeppelin" The Zeppelin has landed; another performance during its 1977 tour of America, the first in two years. And witnessing a Led Zeppelin concert is like watching the last convertible roll off the assembly line. You know they won't be making classics like this anymore. The band and its sizable retinue of roadies, technicians, tour administrators, hangers-on, and this journalist scramble across the tarmac and pile into a fleet of seven limousines with engines running, waiting to sprint to Minneapolis' Metropolitan Sports Arena. A police escort of eight motorcycles positions itself around the cortege like linesman circling the quarterback and, with sirens wailing, speeds through traffic lights and intersections to the arena. Security people are barking into walkie-talkies. The bandsman storm into the backstage garage where ushers yank open doors and push them into the dressing room. This is no ordinary band. During this five-month expedition, Zeppelin is expected to gross anywhere between $8 and $10 million in some two dozen cities. Easily a third of that will go to expenses. "You wouldn't believe what it costs for this band to tour", says Led Zeppelin manager Peter Grant, standing backstage. "I probably won't have any accurate idea until months after it's over". Grant, sporting a large gold earring in his left earlobe, is a bear-like man whose beard spills over his stomach, which spills over his belt. His steady speech and manner is that of a Peter Ustinov though his appearance brings to mind a massive Long John Silver ala Robert Newton. Grant is easily as responsible for the Zep's longevity as the band itself. In the dressing room, he is a guardian hovering over his four charges amid reports from tour personnel concerning the mood of the audience, security measures, the arena's acoustics, and a brief meet with the box-office manager who hands a healthy cut of the gate's receipts over to him. The atmosphere here is one of complete bedlam. Outside of a few revelers dipping into the ice-filled coolers of Heinekkan and Liebfraumilch, the mood is reminiscent of what Allied Forces headquarters' must have been like the morning of D-Day. It is a marked contrast to the folderol aboard the Zep's chartered 727 less than an hour ago. Aboard the SS Zeppelin, the passengers wash down caviar with Pina Coladas, a favorite of the band's staff, or sip champagne all served from behind an elaborately stocked bar. Surprisingly, there are few drugs in evidence, some grass, a little cocaine – a pittance compared to the average superstar road extravaganza. Robert Plant meanders through the plane chatting here and there with small cliques. Drummer John Bonham staggers from compartment to compartment alternately offending and charming passengers, and swilling from a quart of beer (the band doesn't refer to him in private as 'Bonzo' because he's genteel). Lead guitarist Jimmy Page remains fairly aloof, coming out only for an occasional sortie to the bar. And Bassist- keyboard player "Jonesy", John Paul Jones, settles down for a game of backgammon. "We all have different personalities offstage," he says flicking the end of a Marlboro into an ashtray. "I think that's why we have lasted so long. Robert and Jimmy dote on the recognition, and that's great for them. Bonzo and I prefer the anonymity. I like the idea of being able to go anywhere without a lot of people carrying on. I'd rather Robert and Jimmy take the spotlight because someone in the band has to be exciting, y'know, capture the imagination of the public. I think if all four of us wanted the glory, there'd be fights. We'd have broken up years ago like the other bands that started out the same time we did." Jones' features resemble the patrician looks of Rudolf Nureyev, that timelessness about the eyes that soften the fact that Jones is 33, married, and with two children. "I can see most of our audience now is under 21," he says, "but I don't feel silly performing for a 15 year old crowd. We've been doing that for quite a few years and each new generation of 15 year olds likes our music, so we must be doing something right." He swirls the ice around in his glass and sits back. "I don't see why Led Zeppelin can't go on past all of us turning 40," he says. "Jimmy and I are 33, Robert and Bonzo are 28. I guess 40 isn't so far off, right?" "But the band is doing what it wants, and we're still making fans, still making people happy. There's nothing else I want to do. We're all happy with each other and no one wants to split as a solo act." "Our secret is, we're flexible and we like each other." The area behind the stage looks like the movie set to "Frankenstein", an array of pre-amps, monitors, laser-beam units, highly sophisticated consoles for mixing and balancing the audio, a score of "flashboxes" electronically triggered on cue and all of this wizardry operated by a small army of technicians. In the smothering darkness pierced only by the rows of fire-red idiot lights on the consoles, Jimmy Page stands by and watches until satisfied all is in working order. He ambles past and into the dressing room. He is wearing a Nazi officer's cap, Wehrmacht jodhpurs and jackboots. It is an ensemble he is apparently infatuated with for he's seen around the hotel before Showtime or backstage which he sheds only to don a white satin suit for the concert. Page, slim to the point of exaggeration with dark, curly hair framing his androgynous face, is not only the band's architect and inspiration, but also Led Zeppelin's resident Sphinx. In concert, he has been known to get so caught up in his lengthy acoustic instrumental that he is unaware he has strayed too far from his amplifier, thus plucking the cord from it, and playing without sound until one of the stage crew crawls onstage to replace the errant cord. The legions of Led Zeppelin fans have never been known as docile but this evening's audience in Minneapolis is particularly feisty. Roman candles whistling around the rafters, firecrackers hurled onstage and two assaults by fans determined to mount the stage. As Bonzo begins the drum shuffle to his "Moby Dick" solo, a firecracker lands inches from Plant who dives from the stage. "We're used to rowdy crowds," walking back to the dressing room, "but this is crazy. A lot of times it breaks up our concentration. I'm watching Jimmy or they're watching me for a cue and suddenly a Frisbee sails out of the audience and none of us sees it. We've all been hit by them onstage, but the crackers are much worse; scares the hell out of us." We retire to the dressing room since Bonzo will be flailing away for another 10 minutes. Plant sips from a plastic cup of honey and lemon and lights up a Camel. Drenched in perspiration, he sheds his soggy shirt, revealing a long, blue-black scar near the left elbow. a remnant from his near-fatal collision last Summer while driving his family during a holiday in Greece. Though the three-hour set always begins with "The Song Remains the Same," and closes with "Stairway To Heaven," the band changes each show's line-up of about 15 songs. "It keeps things interesting," Plant explains, "You can picture what a drag it would be to do the same set night after night. I think that's why so many bands get sick of touring." Another novel, though expensive, practice Zeppelin has adopted to reduce the rigors of the road is to set up a permanent base of operations for each section of the country they're playing. During their tour of the Midwest, the Zep has stayed at the Ambassador East Hotel in Chicago, flying out early each evening to wherever they're appearing that night, then back to Chicago. "You'd be amazed at what a difference that makes," Plant says "Instead of packing suitcases every day, doing the show, unpacking at a different hotel that night, then repeating it all the next day, we just fly out early, do the show and fly back to our rooms. When we do the East coast, we'll stay in New York and do the same thing there." Peter Grant surveys the unruly audience and shakes his head. "I think the cause for a lot of this is the 'festival seating,' no reserved seats on the floor. These kids get in here and start pushing each other about, tossing bottles, firecrackers, anything they can throw. I'm afraid it might be the same situation in Detroit next Saturday," he says. "It's festival seating on the field at the Silverdome and they might get rowdy." Is the band not courting disaster by cramming so many fans into so large an arena ? Why not two nights at a smaller hall ? (they played three nights in Chicago). "I'm afraid that's my doing," Grant says. "The band didn't want to cut into the two week break after the Detroit show. They're flying back to England for two weeks, and then returning for the last leg of the tour. I knew they'd only do one show so I thought it wisest to play the largest venue in the area. We were hoping to fill the place to capacity, 75,000, but the Fire Marshall would only allow us 72,000 tickets maximum." Grant admits the $10.50 ticket price at Pontiac is stiff but qualifies it after listing tour expenses – fueling a jet, carting along tons of equipment, the technicians, and even a physician who keeps an eye on the band's health. By Stephen Ford Detroit News Entertainment Writer 4-24-77 'Zeppelin Scalpers Play Safe, Run Ads' Led Zeppelin fans who desperately want to see the rock group tonight are being offered scalper's prices – and they can even conduct the whole transaction by phone. The person in front of the sold-out rock concert selling tickets for three times the amount he paid at the box office may not be obsolete, but the wiser ones have almost eliminated chances of being charged with any violation. Their secret is "classified". In the area newspaper classified pages last week, more than a dozen ads offered tickets to the upcoming Led Zeppelin concert at Pontiac's Silverdome, sold out for weeks. Of those contacted, four were selling tickets for 3 to 5 times more than the $10.50 they paid for them. Michigan statute 750;465, passed into law 46 years ago, describes scalping as "…offering tickets for sale in any public place or thoroughfare in excess of the advertised rate." The practice is prohibited and violations are a misdemeanor, punishable by up to $100 fine and 90 days in jail. "It's a very interesting legal question," says Richard Padziewski, deputy chief of the criminal division at the Wayne County prosecutor's office. "There is no precedent in Michigan for charging anyone with ticket scalping via a newspaper's classified ads. There is no clear legal opinion on this. The statute also refers to scalpers setting up 'agencies or sub-offices' to sell overpriced tickets as illegal, but whether someone selling them from their home can be considered establishing a sub-office is arguable." He added, ""We've found that if we have to stretch the wording of a statute for a suspected violation, it probably wasn't the intent of the Legislature to make it illegal." By Tuesday of this week, all but one of the classified scalpers had unloaded their tickets on desperate Zeppelin fans willing to part with exorbitant sums. Stephen Ford Detroit News Entertainment Writer 4-30-77 The Show The weather couldn't have been more cooperative, the crowd more enthusiastic or the reason better for an estimated 80,000 young people to congregate at the 'Pontiac Silverdome' Saturday. British rockers Led Zeppelin were in town for their first performance in the Detroit area in two years. Fans reveled in the day's festival-like atmosphere, enjoying picnic lunches and barbeques, vigorous Frisbee contests or just basking in the sun. Those entering the Silverdome when the gates opened at 4pm used similar activities to pass the five-hour wait before the band appeared. Police and Silverdome security personnel seemed unperturbed by the thousands of youthful drinkers or the clusters of indiscreet marijuana smokers. They concentrated on moving traffic and crowds as smoothly as possible. Fans' impatience with the 90 minute delay fueled a few scuffles but their discontent vanished when Led Zeppelin singer Robert Plant started the three-hour set with the band's familiar "Song Remains the Same." He gradually led the audience through an anthology of Led Zeppelin's prolific 10 years together. The lengthy performance was highlighted by their classic "Stairway To Heaven", solos by each band member, and two encores. Fans appeared content that the lofty $10.50 admission was well spent. This small article appeared beside 5 photos on a full page. These included the parking lot, the fans inside, and an awesome picture of Jimmy on his knees with his arms stretched wide holding his guitar. 'Beautiful Day' For Fans As Zeppelin Packs Dome It took Toledo truck driver Brian Coup a couple of weeks of skimping to afford to hear one of the world's most popular rock'n' roll bands Saturday at what turned out to be the biggest Pontiac Silverdome concert ever. "Man was it worth it," he sighed, sitting on a parking lot fire hydrant long after Led Zeppelin, an explosive quartet of English musicians, had ended a high-energy three hour performance before more than 76,200 fans. "This was the biggest and most subdued audience for a rock concert here yet," said Silverdome's special events promoter Gerry Baron. He looked happy as he gazed over a sea of blue-denimed humanity shuffling easily from the stadium floor and seats to the exits. "It was just a beautiful day." And not just for Baron. Roger and Marcia Mulheren watched the whole concert, thanks to a Silverdome friend, from the plush second level press box. They were still in their wedding outfits, hours after being married before 100 friends in a Pontiac church. Roger, a 24 year old nurse, and his 20 year old bride were joined by their best man and maid of honor dressed in matching peach outfits. "It's a joyous occasion and I feel what better way to spend a joyous occasion than with friends," said Marcia as Zeppelin kicked into "The Song Remains The Same." "And what better friends than Led Zeppelin." But Zeppelin's fans have not always been as friendly as the band's touring entourage would have liked. In Cincinnati last week, a fan was pushed from the third level of the outdoor Riverfront Stadium into traffic below and was killed. There was much concern that such a mass of Detroit fans also could get out of hand. Barron said radio and television spots advising against early arrival, plus the decision to open the doors two hours early avoided a restive crowd outside the stadium. The audience had to wait 80 minutes beyond the scheduled 8:00pm start for the performance, but it did not get rowdy. Fewer than 20% of the tickets were for so-called "festival seating" on the stadium floor-first come, first sit. The remaining $10.50 tickets, steep by most rock concert standards, were for reserved seating. But there were usual problems. The stadium staff of four doctors and nine nurses treated well over 100 people for everything from hangovers to drug overdoses. Pontiac police made 44 arrests, 21 of them drug related and many for open liquor bottles and the disorderliness caused by the drinking. "Things went very well for a crowd of nearly 80,000 young people enjoying what they call nice music," said Lt. Robert Verhine of the Pontiac police. And the music was "nice," if the thundering crowd that demanded and got two encores can be believed. Robert Plant, the 28-year-old singer, gave exactly what his legion wanted. Wearing jeans and his leather jacket open without a shirt, he went through stage gyrations befitting the best English rock performer. His piercing high voice, showing strain of the tour, still was exhilarating. Jimmy Page, spending considerable time with his double-necked guitar, laid out thrilling heavy metallic licks, the sound signature of Led Zeppelin. Only on their classic tune "Stairway To Heaven" did Pages playing really shine. But the mesmerized crowd did not seem to notice. They were over-whelmed with the well-staged lighting scheme, complete with lasers and exploding powder pots, and the well-honed sound. For those far from the several ton mountain of sound equipment on the stage at one end of the stadium, the stadium's gigantic video screen provided televised close-ups. For Zeppelin's efforts, the band took home over $600,000 for the night, a considerable portion of which covers the tremendous expenses incurred on the 5 month U.S. tour. For the Zeppelin fans' efforts, like fighting the mobs for tickets weeks ago, fighting traffic to and from the Dome, and waiting for the concert to start 80 minutes late, it all seemed worth it. Sixteen-year-old Elaine Alexander of Mt. Clemens, with friends after the concert, shrieked: "Words can't even explain it. It was great " Detroit Free Press May 2nd, 1977 Rock Alchemy: Led into Gold Robert Plant showed up for work 90 minutes late Saturday night. So did his Led Zeppelin cronies Jimmy Page, John Bonham, and John Paul Jones. When they finally arrived it was by a massive entourage of bodyguards, publicity flacks, valets and a cast of underlings too numerous nor worth mentioning. But nobody – neither their bosses nor their customers – voiced a single complaint. In fact Led Zeppelin was given the kind of tumultuous welcome at the Pontiac Silverdome that should be reserved for the scientist who conquers cancer or the person who comes up with the formula for world peace. Zeppelin was on the job three-and-a-half hours and then they jumped back into the plane for a two-week holiday in Cairo and London. And their rate of pay was $3,500. Not for the day. Not per hour. That was per minute. Nice work if you can get it. Led Zeppelin, four British musicians, walked onto the Pontiac Silverdome stage at 9:30pm Saturday and walked off at 1:am Sunday with – unofficially - $642,000, their take of the total gate of an estimated $840,000 after bilking 80,000 of their most die-hard fans $10.50 each for the pleasure of their company. The lucky ones – those with the 14,000 floor seats – got to actually see the band but they paid for it by being pushed and shoved by the zealots behind them. The rest – those in the arena seats – were so far away from the activity on stage that the band must have looked like four ants prancing around on top of a marshmallow. The simulcast closed circuit screen overhead was their only assurance that there were; in fact, real live people on the stage. Otherwise, Page's guitar would have looked like a double-necked electric toothpick. The screen, which has been used at all the Silver dome's rock concerts, was originally vetoed by the band. No way, they said, were they going to all the expense of renting the screen and cameras for a lousy $840,000 gate. But the stadium management persisted and they relented. The Pontiac date was the largest venue on Led Zep's '77 American tour. In fact, it was probably the biggest indoor concert ever and the band marked the occasion by doing absolutely nothing special on stage. Their concert set Saturday night was the same routine they've been using all over the country with one exception, a second three-minute encore. The band went mechanically through the motions. They had clearly left all inspiration back on the private plane. There was no art being made at the Silverdome Saturday, only money. The band displayed arrogance and indifference toward the audience which was best exemplified by their over-all air of nonchalance; for instance, showing up 90 minutes after the scheduled starting time. In Cincinnati, just four nights before the Pontiac date, a fan was killed when an impatient throng accidentally knocked him off a tier of the stadium and into the street. After that incident one would expect the band to reduce the possibilities of a similar tragedy. Yet they were unable to get to the hall on time and left the audience hanging. They didn't arrive at the site until 9:10pm and it was another 20 minutes before they actually took the stage. The band had refused a stadium offer to fly them directly to the parking lot by helicopter to expedite things and instead took a bus. On stage they attempted to create a sense of community but Led Zeppelin, in reality, keeps their distance, compliments of an abnormally huge stage barricade and an army of security personnel. Even the tour manager of the group wanders through the arena with a bodyguard prepared to stiff-arm anyone who approaches. "I had an easier time getting to the President," mused a disgruntled reporter after a persistent but futile series of attempts for five minutes of the band's time for his readership. "Even Zeppelin's PR people are inaccessible." The band also strongly objected to giving the thousands of Detroit fans who missed out on the sold-out show a filmed documentary. Finally, after three frustrating attempts, one photographer did manage to wrangle his way to the stage to film the band. There were no major incidents at the concert despite the size of the crowd and the delay, thanks to the cooperation of stadium officials, Pontiac Police, and the strangely serene crowd entering the gates like lemmings prepared to fall into the sea or where ever else Plant, Page, Bonham and Jones might dump them. Bill Gray Detroit News Columnist 5-2-77 Zep plays to largest audience ever for single-act rock show PONTIAC, Mich. (1977) - The attendance at Led Zeppelin's Silverdome concert tonight triumphantly shattered the band's own previous attendance record, a number unmatched by any other group in the last four years. The audience of 77,229 at the Silverdome is the largest audience for a single-act concert. The previous record was 56,800 set in May 1973 at a Zeppelin show in Tampa Bay. On that historic day, the group surpassed the Beatles' 1965 attendance record of 55,000. Making a sum of £467,000 tonight, Led Zeppelin has finished the first leg of its 11th tour of North America. Upon returning, the band will tour the southern United States, beginning May 18 in Birmingham, Ala. Associated Press Release

Oh, hell yeah!

Most of the US media coverage on the ARMS tour I've seen doesn't necessarily focus on Jimmy or the fans beyond the obligatory mention that he performed well. Contrast that with Live Aid, where Led Zeppelin quite deliberately took the stage at the start of American prime time viewing for that night. Over 100,000 people in Philadelphia going nuts! A global satellite broadcast with massive media coverage before and after the event as well. Impact felt around the world. Live Aid brought them renewed acclaim. Anyway, it's just an opinion.

Hardly. I don't recall him ever saying that anywhere.

Whomp, there it is. That's the one.

Correct, and the meaning has been solved, I'm just not motivated enough to dig it out and post it here. Something to do with astrology and magick etc.

I would suggest after Live Aid, when Philadelphia was still there in the morning. The image of Led Zeppelin fans certainly did not improve during the 70s, with their ticket riots and what not, all of which was reported on by the media.

Jimmy has never explained the meaning in detail. Even so, it has been solved by other scholars. Perhaps someone will repost it to this site sometime.

Many thanks for that contribution to the thread. Clearly, this mystery is solved.

As I teach we become equals. Come, let us perform a kata together.

Is there anything funnier in the world than Charlie Watts trying to explain the filth and debauchery that took place within "that ridiculous flat in Chelsea".

Performances: June 14th & 15th 1972 Peter Grant said the reason for this was because "that's where the kids live", but I can't help but think non-availability of Madison Square Garden was also a factor. Led Zeppelin did attend Elvis Presley's early evening performance at MSG on June 10th. Zeppelin was using the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel as their Eastern base during this portion of their tour, flying to and from gigs.

I still love the Stones but I've never seen them play outside of Europe. Saw them this past summer, once in '06 and twice in '03. I also saw Bill Wyman & The Rhythm Kings in 2002. I've had lunch twice at Bill's restaurant in Kensington, Sticky Fingers. Mick Jagger is a phenomenal front man, and his knowledge of things outside the world of music is rather daunting. When they tour, he oversees everything from what songs will be played to how many different t-shirts will be produced. Mick Jagger! I tell you what, that guy is a rock star! What can you say about Keef? The guy's a rock n roll institution. It's the attitude, baby. Ronnie always makes me smile. He saved that band from disintegrating. It only took him nearly 25 years to be admitted as a full partner. Bill Wyman. The epitome of cool. An obsessive diarist and entertaining author. He's done it all. Charlie Watts. The Wembley Whammer! I even like his jazz albums.

His cute little seven year nap he recently awoke from.

Just to clarify, it was Robert who attended Jimmy's show at The Centrum in Worcester, MA on October 29th 1988. Robert performed at The Centrum the following night, but Jimmy definately wasn't there; he was playing The Spectrum in Philadelphia.

I'm going to go way out on a limb and say there was no conflict as at the time they were performed in England, he was in the States and when performed in the States, he was in England. Since he wasn't there, he wouldn't have had any first-hand impressions, but certainly would not begrudge Page for instrumental performances of compositions Page wrote. They reunited in Hammersmith, which indicates there was no conflict. On May 18th 1985 Robert Plant took his daughter Carmen to see Jimmy perform with The Firm at the NEC in Birmingham. Robert Plant wept.

Those ARE mysteries to me to. This is all I've got: Oct 20 1969 Led Zeppelin attended The Who's Fillmore East after-show party hosted by Bill Graham at Max's Kansas City. June 11 1972 They attended Paul Gurvitz' show at The Bitter End. June 11 1972 Having left The Bitter End, they went to Nobody's in Greenwich Village. They performed vocal renditions of 'Blue Moon' and 'Roll A Bowl'. From what I've been told, Nobody's was a favored haunt for British musicians. February 1975 Led Zeppelin and The Rolling Stones were both staying at The Plaza Hotel. On an off night, Jimmy, Robert, Bonzo, Richard Cole, Mick & Ronnie went out to a club in Harlem. I also seem to recall they frequented The Steve Paul Scene at 301 West 46th Street. They were scheduled to perform there February 3-6 1969 but those were cancelled to allow John Bonham to return to England, where young Jason had received stitches.

As outlined below, there were very few instrumental 'Stairway to Heaven' performances during the ARMS Benefit concerts. Note the second performance in London was actually a benefit for The Prince's Trust, but featured the same performers as the previous night. Robert did not attend either of Jimmy's performances in London London, as he was performing in Austin and Houston Texas on those nights. He did not attend any of his performances in the US as his tour had moved on from there to England. However, he and Jimmy did reunite for a jam on 'Treat Her Right' during Robert's encore at the Hammersmith Odeon on December 13th 1983. September 20 1983 London, England Royal Albert Hall Kensington Gore SW7 2AP September 21 1983 London, England Royal Albert Hall Kensington Gore SW7 2AP ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- November 28 1983 Dallas, TX USA Reunion Arena 777 Sports Street 75207 November 29 1983 Dallas, TX USA Reunion Arena 777 Sports Street 75207 December 1 1983 Daly City, CA USA Cow Palace 2600 Geneva Avenue 94117 December 2 1983 Daly City, CA USA Cow Palace 2600 Geneva Avenue 94117 December 3 1983 Daly City, CA USA Cow Palace 2600 Geneva Avenue 94117 December 5 1983 Inglewood, CA USA The Forum 3900 Manchester Boulevard 90306 December 6 1983 Inglewood, CA USA The Forum 3900 Manchester Boulevard 90306 December 8 1983 New York, NY USA Madison Square Garden 2 Penn Plaza 10121 December 9 1983 New York, NY USA Madison Square Garden 2 Penn Plaza 10121

I've always taken that to be a reference to John Bonham, not Robert Plant. Hmm...

It could be anything, but yes, he did do this effing and jeffing as you call it. On the '77 tour he shouted "Canons!", for example.

There's a misunderstanding. Long story short, Col Tom Parker could not take Elvis outside of the United States on account of Tom's checkered immigration history. So Tom Parker contacted Peter Grant in the mid 70s to casusally inquire if HE would be willing and able to manage a tour of Europe for Elvis. Discussions never went beyond this and within two years Elvis died never having performed outside of the continental United States, with the exception of Hawaii (a U.S. state) and some loose jam sessions while stationed in Germany. Read the fascinating book Elvis and The Colonel for more on why Elvis' manager never allowed him to perform overseas. Fascinating stuff.

They opened for Vanilla Fudge and Alice Cooper among others within a month of hitting the US. Neither, so far as I know, enjoyed the level of bootlegging that, say, the Grateful Dead did. My opinion is we have the good fortune of them having played several nights in Los Angeles and San Francisco in January 1969, both of which had a robust taping scene. Word was spreading fast and when they played a nearly four hour show in Boston that same month, well the rest is history. By 1973, they were already the biggest band in the world and the tapers in the audience were there almost nightly.

Whenever there is a suicide it's human nature to look for a cause or a reason. In lieu of any obvious findings... Also, as I've said before, if one looks hard enough you'll find the devil in anything. The only thing to be gained by playing Stairway to Heaven backwards is the opportunity to hear Jimmy playing properly.