Here's an irony for you.
When I was married, I sometimes felt like I was drowning in silvery CDrs. They were everywhere. Many of them were unlabeled, but some were labeled. Labeled or unlabeled, I thought they were going to suffocate me during my sleep.
One estimate is that at least 47% of those CDrs were from various Led Zeppelin albums, live performances, studio outtakes or Plant/Page reunion gigs. I cannot overstate the number of Led Zeppelin recordings that lived in my bedroom.
So I was surrounded by Led Zeppelin music and at times, it got on my nerves, mostly when I slipped on one of the discs and hurt myself. (Yes, that happened. More than once.)
Now ... on my own ... who do I often turn to for a pick me up? Those same British boys, indeed.
Just now, in my van, I was feeling a bit overwhelmed, wondering what it means to be happy, to be satisfied, jumping down (to use one friend's term) the lonely hole, just a little. So ... I put in this song, a combo of "White Summer/Black Mountainside." Behold the brilliance of Jimmy Page.