While Rolling Stone ushered in the genre of "rock journalism" in the late 1960s, it, and the magazines that followed, also ushered in the genre of the anti-review. The anti-review typically happened when either (a) the writer was handed an album so outside his ken that he had no idea what to say about it and blocked, or (b) hated the album so much that he decided to simply make stuff up in a pique of condescending anger mixed with wild improvisation.

In December of 1970, Creem ran one of the great anti-reviews of all time, when a critic named Alexander Icenine reviewed Led Zeppelin's third album. To a certain extent, I can understand his confusion. While the first side of Led Zeppelin III contained the usual rave-up hard-hitting rock and atomic blues that Zeppelin featured on Led Zeppelin II, its second side was full of melodic folkie compositions played on acoustic guitars and mandolins. It also didn't help that while Zeppelin was consistently selling out their gigs, and earning huge advances from Atlantic, from Rolling Stone down, most critics at the time hated them.

So with that in mind, here's Alexander Icenine's "review" of...

LED ZEPPELIN
Led Zeppelin III
(Atlantic)
I'd like to write a review that does in print what Led Zeppelin does on record. I'd like to wrote a revue that do in print what Lid Zapulon daes in rakard. Eyed lak two wring a rongvue thang done an purnt hot Lug Zipperlin dig em ekred.

For example, you could imitate Robert Plant being at the zoo and playing with the animals--ughoooeekkkkzzzzughughugh. Flour ecks sample who cowed imiganite Rudder Plunk bing adduh zeeund plodding wifde anizuls. uggauggauggabuggaugga. Flinkeks simple moocid immigrate Rubby Plaster bee adzuend plown thaniminimals. 0000GGGGAAAAMMMMMMMUUUUUGGGGGGAAAAA.

Or Jimmy Page throwing up on his guitar while the crowd cheers and Yardbirds fans in legion descend to grasp his sweaty palm. (Except he only does it twice-- reeeeeeeeskrofeeeeer) Oar Jammy Pig trang ape onis git tarwell dacrow chair and Yiddybid fangs inlegos ref undu grapsis sweany pall. (Wwwwwwwwwhiigggggnnnnnnneeesssssssssstttttt)

There are myriads of wonderful bung-mung on this here record, there is a whole in the center and if they would only change their name to their reel nom de plumeata they could be filled in my record collec tion as the only bandie after Zappa, Rank. (Zep--rimes with hep.)

What is a Led Zeppily? I have oftimes asked of my own selfhead this questlung upon retiring to my bed patterns. Or sometimes, how is a Red Zipper not a Load Zoppinsky? Many times there is no answer and they refuse to do it for ya.

I really dung this requiem a lot.--Alexander Icenine/(Dec. 1970)