A Whole Lotta Love
It all started when I wanted to use the title of one of my favourite Rock songs as the name for a yearling filly. I thought she’d be good, so I wanted her to be appropriately named. However, before I proceeded, I thought I should check the lyrics, to see whether this name might come with inappropriate connotations.
The sound of Whole Lotta Love is Led Zeppelin at the top of their genre. It’s an absolute banger of a track (although in this context “bang” is perhaps an unfortunate reference). The song’s lyric, sung by Robert Plant, “I’m going to give you every inch of my love”, is not an attempt to give love a unit of measurement. It’s clear what love means in this context.
I immediately shelved the idea of calling my filly Whole Lotta Love.
Robin Thicke’s Blurred Lines, released 44 years later, pairs similar suggestions with a catchy tune and a NSFW music video. His lyrics just don’t bother to use the word “love”.
It’s a particular male fantasy of women with passive, suppressed or unspoken desires being fulfilled thanks to the physical attentions of a man. In this illusion, a woman is incomplete without being at the receiving end of a virile phallus.
Society does a crappy job when it comes positive depictions of sexuality and desire, so it’s not a surprise that the spokesmen – literally – are men (see above). Media attention is given to men with aberrant behaviour, like Jeffrey Epstein, Harvey Weinstein and others. Positive role models are the guys who quietly go about living good lives. No-one is going to write about them, and nor would they want to be written about. Plus, advertising has still not let go of the dictum, “sex sells”.
I had been sitting with this version of Whole Lotta Love for some time when my friend, Piet Viljoen, introduced me to a version sung by Tori Amos in 1992. She takes an anthem of male conquest and makes it her own. She is at once vulnerable, sensuous and assertive, perched on the corner of the piano stool as she turns to deliver the song to the audience.
In the genre of hold-my-beer, she takes ownership of the song, demonstrating that the women’s version can have equal power. It should be said that she makes use of just one instrument, rather than an entire rock band. She metaphorically grabs hold of the mic, giving a woman’s voice to the expression of desire. She does a ‘right back at you’ with the male-written lyrics (although without the use of “every inch of my love”).
Tina Turner was another woman to bring her own interpretation to Whole Lotta Love. Ironically with her abusive ex-husband Ike, she released a funk version that oozes sensuality.
Of course, Whole Lotta Love drew heavily on Willie Dixon’s You Need Love. Following legal action, the royalties are now shared. By comparison, Dixon’s version comes across as a piece of musical courtship, perhaps because of its blues treatment that is so wholesome you could almost smell the plate of fried chicken.
For a “right back at ya”, along with a resounding “hell, yeah!” we turn to the Highwomen’s If She Ever Leaves Me. Described by co-writer, Jason Isbell, as the first gay Country song, the lyrics depict the cowboy version of the male protagonist in Whole Lotta Love or Blurred Lines. He is described as “dancing her home in your mind”. The thing is that “she likes perfume”.
The object of his desire is not off-limits because of her suppressed or unspoken desires, but because masculine is not what she wants. It’s a proper reversal.
By their very existence, the Highwomen make a powerful statement, which they reinforce with their lyrically clever Redesigning Women.
Decades later, Robert Plant collaborated with country singer Alison Krauss on a couple of albums many degrees mellower than his Led Zeppelin years. The songs – some of them anyway – talk of loss and regret. It’s not an unexpected place for a duo of 70-year-old man and middle-aged woman to end up.
Another legendary British rock musician, Mark Knopfler, also collaborated with a country singer, the similarly legendary Emmylou Harris. In the track This is Us, they are looking through a photo album that records key moments in their relationship, together singing the chorus, “You and me and our memories, this is us.” There is warmth, poignancy and togetherness.
For all the lust and desire that may characterise match-ups earlier in life, perhaps the kind of love we need when we are old is that kind of gentle companionship, a height we can only reach when the foundations are built on decades of mutual respect and shared life. We grow together, perhaps a little like the way trees do, in a process called inosculation. Parts of trees – even from different species – literally fuse together as if they’ve been grafted.
Inosculation derives from the Latin, osculare, meaning “to kiss”. This is appropriate, seeing as a kiss is generally the first step to forming a bond. For the most part, it’s a moment of purity, the meeting of equals.
It’s a shame that our depictions of the love (or its proxies) that may follow the first kiss are so one-sided. Until, of course, we’ve been together so long that none of that matters anymore. That’s a whole lotta love worth having.