Hammer of the goddesses

As far as rock star demands go, Lez Zeppelin’s hospitality rider seems relatively innocuous. Sure, there are required bottles of Absolut and Johnnie Walker Black—right alongside fruit juice and a six-pack of Diet Pepsi. Not exactly what you’d expect Bonzo and Pagey to guzzle backstage in Zep’s heyday.

But then, Lez Zeppelin isn’t interested in living the same hedonistic lifestyle you might expect from a Led Zeppelin tribute band. The group’s never even tried to contact the real Zeppelin. “I doubt they even know we exist,” says singer Sarah McLellan, a soft-spoken Australian whose dialect is an effective substitute for Robert Plant’s British accent. “It just doesn’t matter.”

The idea of an all-female tribute band isn’t particularly revelatory—groups like the Ramonas, AC/DShe and Cheap Chick have been around for a while. What is different about these four New Yorkers is how completely serious they are about re-creating the Zeppelin performance: Think bow solos, “Moby Dick,” the works. The group’s even in the process of recording its own versions of Zeppelin songs in the studio. “We basically want to rewrite all the rules about what it means to be a tribute band,” explains drummer Helen Destroy. “We’re different than a tribute, because we’ve taken it on and made it our own.”

“We do what they did, in the spirit of what they did,” adds guitarist Steph Paynes. “But there is also something that is us about this band. It’s larger than the four of us.”

The idea for Lez Zeppelin came when Paynes was at home one afternoon listening to the originals. “Once the idea hit me, of course it had to be all girls,” she says. “There was never a question.” Each member had been a Zep fan long before the band formed, but the group has learned each album together, starting off with Led Zeppelin I. “It seemed the most organic. We’ve got the first five albums down, and we’re working our way up to Presence. Most bands don’t bother doing much more than the hits. We want to do it all.”

Lez Zeppelin’s name is, of course, a teaser—and much like the real Zeppelin, the four enjoy shrouding themselves in a bit of mystery. They’re proud of their strong following in the gay and lesbian community. So are they or aren’t they? “Our policy is, ‘don’t ask, don’t tell,’?” McLellan says with a laugh. “And I’ve already told too much.” Either way, lyrics like “Shake for me, girl?/?I wanna be your back door man” sound a lot different coming from a female perspective. “They take on a whole new meaning,” McLellan says. “It’s such a male thing to play Zeppelin. It’s almost too much for people to take.”

Much of the fascination with Lez Zeppelin, though, is the one cliché it’s perpetually up against. “There’s still a stereotype in rock that says if a woman plays an instrument, she’s not sexy anymore,” explains bassist Lisa Brigantino. “Or that women can’t play instruments as well as men. I think it’s bullshit. We play the shit out of this stuff. We play it as if we wrote it. When people come to our shows they’re like, ‘Ah, girls can’t play Zeppelin, they can’t play rock & roll.’ And by the end of the night their jaws are on the floor.”

A Led Zeppelin show was a product of ’70s hedonism, a full-on display of salacious pansexuality right down to the inhumanly tight jeans—and Lez Zep gives many of its fans the same erotic charge. “It’s amazing to us how many men approach us after a show and say, ‘I’m straight, but I’ve always wanted to sleep with Robert Plant,’?” Paynes says. “They’re almost relieved, because they can be attracted to us without feeling threatened about their sexuality. In a way, we’re almost an answer to their prayers.

“Men, women…we’re all attracted to each other, aren’t we?” the guitarist continues. “And a sexy rock star is so intense and larger than life. Of course you’re going to feel attracted in many various ways.”

“And they were brilliant,” Destroy adds. “That’s what made them sexy, too.”

McLellan doesn’t skip a beat: “That’s why people love us.”Lez Zeppelin plays Cubby Bear Saturday 4.