We were almost late to Led Zeppelin’s Physical Graffiti Live in Concert for the Adelaide Guitar Festival. My husband Shaun Holton is one of the singers and so I took the lovely Priyanka Luxx as my date for the night. Before you ask yes you can know what we wore… Priyanka wore a new silk vintage dress she bought on her recent trip to Japan. Her soft features, deep brown eyes and classic beauty, a contrast to my own. I carry about some angular northern European ‘maybe-she’s -a -Viking- vibes’ with green algae blooms for eyes. And SiGH yes, before you ask; I wore a lacey long black dress I bought for $9 at Savers and my trusty black Doc Martens. We push through the crowds attempting to navigate the long lines with friendly smiles to get our ‘complementary-wife’ - Tickets.

The tickets are complimentary, not the wife. Well, that depends how well you can sing…

The bar line up was the kind you consider leaving, but we hadn’t eaten anything and we do get grumpy when we are hungry, so we both settle for salt and vinegar chips and water - “thanks”.
The staff hand us a plastic cup each…”for the chips….” motion the bar staff…. “to avoid crinkles," of course, as if my chewing wouldn’t be louder anyway. Both armed with a girl dinner each we found our seats in the Stalls. To Priyanka’s right, sat two guys with beards and black shirts, maybe mid-40s, I have some suspicions that their parents raised them on Stairway to Heaven, on repeat. To my left, an older conservative couple who probably saw Zeppelin in their prime. They carried decades of knowledge and a nonchalance that at first glance looks like boredom. We didn’t exchange words,nor glances, not yet.

Priyanka and I sat quietly and ate our chips to the hum of voices. The hum that was the heavy anticipation of a sold out show that pressed into the carpet, into the velvet chairs, into our skin. As we looked around I realised we were part of a younger minority there and I thought about my own musical palette. I was born in the mid 80’s, growing up my Dad’s record collection featuring the likes of Mr. Bungle, The Doors, Frank Zappa, Chili Peppers, TISM and Beck. Meanwhile, at my Mum’s Saturday morning cleaning music creates vibrations through rattling TV speakers - the B52s, Melissa Etheridge and Shania Twain, or that ‘mmmmmmm’ song- turned up loud enough to drown out the vacuum. Add a Sprinkle of Zeppelin from each side and you get me.

I finished my chips just before the lights dimmed and Zkye Compson-Harris, wearing a red fedora strode across the stage to a waiting side-table, she lifts a record, flips it around in her hands and drops it gently onto a turntable.

There’s a little crackle, a signal.

Photography: Michael Meston

Zkye, who has the reputation as one of Adelaide’s fiercest soul-rock vocalists is a woman who can shake the walls of any blues bar or the Sydney Opera house. But for tonight only, it’s Her Majesty's Theatre. She opens with Custard Pie. Zkye does it the only way you’d want it done, big, thick and fiery. The thing I have always enjoy the most about Skye's performances, no matter where she is, is how easily she becomes the embodiment of the sound that escapes her, it moves through her, once I told Shaun, be more Zkye. But like I said only Zkye does Zkye and she provides us with an expressive introduction to what clearly wasn’t going to be your ordinary Led Zeppelin tribute show.
For our second song, Dusty Lee Stephenson brings a hair flick and his ASMR - like - boots- on- gravel vocal performance to The Rover. Watching the joy he finds on stage is an experience in itself, as he revels in the talents of others. It drives him. He shares stories of his early days as a younger guitar player and rebelling against his teachers and sneaking off to learn Stairway to heaven, rather than what he was told. He instead does what Dusty does best. Dusty.

Warwick Cheatle casually held a steady bass line throughout, deeply rooted, deeply present and devoted to holding everything upright from beginning to end. He did so while clearly feeling like an absolute legend. Warwick is an Adelaide local and director and co-producer with the Southern Cross Orchestra and the man behind Rocket man- The music of Elton John Orchestrated and Eclipse- Pink Floyd to name a few. Through moments of the show he smiled to himself like a proud dad, nodding to his loved ones or fans in thanks, nodding at lines landed, lines missed, while most of us are none of us the wiser.
Meanwhile Heavy hitter Danny Leo pounded his drums with grace if there was such a thing, keeping pace and finding pockets, never seeming to tire at the almost consistent 2 hours of music. At one point he can be seen; eyes closed, head back- either enjoying the music, or maybe taking a nap, either way, I wouldn’t blame him.With Paul White is on keys, he brings the salt and pepper for a really good meal, he brings out the flavours, adding intricate accents that without would have had spaces filled with the sound of silence. Melbourne’s Kathleen Halloran is multitasking pro, Kathleen was later recognised by my conservative couple friends as Kate Ceberano's and Jon Stevens Guitarist. Kathleen juggles her solo’s and guitar strap chaos while delivering a perfect rendition of Down by the Seaside. Her banter on stage brings humility in a relatable, raw kinda way.

After a few songs I realised… something is missing. And I am reminded as the Southern Cross Symphony filters onto stage. They tuned in, slowly bringing life, a new energy, and restless shift from the audience.

We were intrigued and some maybe hesitant.

They were all waiting for Kashmir.

But I was waiting for Shaun… the father of my children, the fire of my loins, please reconnect the dishwasher? While he prepared for weeks leading up to this show, my weeks were filled with our kids’ questions and my own.

“What’s Dad doing? “
“Kashmir.”
“Where is Dad?”
“Kashmir.”
”Why is… Dad?”
…Kashmir”
”What’s Dad eating?…Kashmir?

“No, whatever I bloody give him, since he forgot to make the dog food.”

Shaun strolls on stage and the orchestra erupts as my band-wife- life flashbacks evaporate. Southern Cross’s composer Karen De Nardi begins waving her hands in ways not many of us will ever quite understand, only once facing the audience when led into a pirouette by Shaun.

I imagined a lot of people held their breath until after he delivered those first few lines but before the song had even ended, the audience stood in awe, applauding, cheering.
Later Shaun tells me the applause, the cheer, actually startled him and he may have cried a tear or two in pride.

I filmed it all, like I always do. Afterwards, when we’re home and the house is quiet, he’ll tell me he feels bad that I never just ‘get to’ sit back and enjoy. But I do. Because later, I get to sit with him while he watches from my perspective for the first time. It's not something many people get to do.

Song after song, they nailed it.

Photography: Far Left- Antanika Hoberg | R: Michael Meston

At the beginning of the intermission I turned to my older couple seatmates: “Now, If I leave our coats here, you won’t steal them, will you?” Finally breaking the silence between our two generations, he and his wife laughed, “Not unless you can sing like that.” I told him I probably could, but didn’t want to show Shaun up and that I was in fact married to the guy. And then we all decided maybe they would steal my coat now.
They didn’t.

In the foyer, chaos ensued as 1500 people try to cram snacks, drinks, a tantrum and some gossip of this epic show into twenty minutes. As we squished through the troves of people, we heard strangers raving about this singer, ‘Who was this guy? Who was this singer they didn’t see on promo’, ‘goosebumps’, ‘best Led Zeppelin show ever’. Priyanka and I felt like little spies collecting reviews to deliver later. In the bathrooms- I bump into Shaun’s godmother and his mum’s friends, they hugged me before I could wash the pee off my hands and exclaimed with pride to the whole bathroom, “This is the wife!”, the gushing begins and being a pretty awkward lady, I announce to the whole bathroom:

"Guys, He didn't feed the dogs or make their food this week.” They said he didn’t need to if he could sing like that, but I disagreed, I hate feeding the dogs and making their food.

The second half of the show was the highlight of the show for me, Stairway to Heaven, was a delight, mostly because Shaun sang it, but also because the performance from everyone was something you could feel. Earlier that day Shaun and I were talking about what the lyrics are about. Most people have some kind of connection to the song, a thread, a moment in time to revisit and we could see that in each performer.
Robert Plant himself says that Stairway to Heave came to him unconsciously, through him, not from him as he sat around a fire and while he may scoff the ambivalent way it came through, what ever it was, what he created allowed a whole room 50 to share a thread of consciousness that allows all of us to see ourselves in each other.
By the end, no one wanted it to stop but Warwick’s smartwatch buzzed to let him know, it was actually bedtime, so to finish us off, Shaun and Zkye teamed up and serve us with as huge finalle with Rock and Roll and Whole Lotta Love.

When the whole theatre burst into applause, I knew this wasn't going to be the last time you’d be able to see this show. 1500 people stood, they gushed, they said it was the best Zeppelin show they’d ever seen. Better than others they’d walked out of before, or so I was told. And the word on the street was it was so good because each performer stayed themselves. No one tried to be Robert Plant. No one tried to imitate, just solid musos, doing what they love. They honoured Zeppelin by being who they are, and in a world of conformity that is the hardest, most beautiful thing you can do.

Shaun, Priyanka and I walked into the cool Adelaide night, we ate hot pot I assumed I was going to die from, we picked up our kids and went to bed.

“Tomorrow the kids will ask, " What is Dad thinking about now?”.

And I’ll tell them.

“The Stairway to Heaven.”