Robert Plant was obsessed with a woman in Iceland. That's basically the spark. When people talk about Led Zeppelin II, they usually jump straight to the bone-crushing riff of "Whole Lotta Love" or the drum solo in "Moby Dick." But What Is and What Should Never Be is where the band actually showed their hand. It’s the track that proved they weren't just a loud blues-rock outfit; they were architects of dynamic tension.
It's a weird song. Seriously.
The track starts with this dreamy, jazz-inflected lounge vibe. Jimmy Page uses a Gibson Les Paul through a Vox AC30, but he’s playing with this shimmering, chorused tone that feels like you're underwater. Then, without much warning, the chorus hits like a freight train. It’s that classic "loud-quiet-loud" formula that Pixies and Nirvana would ride to global stardom decades later, but Page and Jones were doing it in 1969 with a level of technical precision that still feels a bit frightening.
The Technical Brilliance Most People Miss
If you listen to the song with headphones, the stereo panning is aggressive. Page was producing these records himself, and he was fascinated by the idea of "distance makes depth." In What Is and What Should Never Be, he moves the vocals and the slide guitar across the stereo field so rapidly it creates a sense of vertigo. It wasn't just a gimmick. He was trying to mirror the lyrical theme of transition and longing.
John Paul Jones is the unsung hero here. His bass line during the verses is incredibly melodic. It doesn't just hold the root note; it wanders. It’s almost McCartney-esque in its playfulness, providing a soft cushion for Plant’s vocal delivery. Jones once mentioned that the band was finding its collective "voice" during these sessions, which were scattered across various studios in the UK and North America while they were on tour.
They recorded the track at Olympic Studios in London. You can hear the room. That's the thing about those early Zeppelin records; they sound like four guys in a space, not a series of digital layers.
Why the Slide Guitar Solo Matters
Jimmy Page isn't always cited as the cleanest slide player—that's usually reserved for guys like Duane Allman—but his solo on this track is masterclass in phrasing. It’s sharp. It’s piercing. It cuts through the thick mix of Bonham’s drums. Speaking of Bonham, listen to the snare. It’s crisp. He isn't overplaying during the verses, but when that chorus kicks in, he hits with enough velocity to crack a rim.
The song's structure is deceptive. It feels like a standard verse-chorus-verse affair, but the outro is a chaotic, celebratory jam that fades out just as it feels like it’s reaching a breaking point. It captures that 1969 energy perfectly—the transition from the flowery sixties into the heavier, more cynical seventies.
The Iceland Connection and the Lyrics
Robert Plant wrote the lyrics. He was inspired by a trip the band took to Iceland, specifically a show they played in Reykjavik. There's a specific kind of melancholy in the lyrics. "And if I say to you tomorrow," he sings, "take my hand, child, come with me." It’s a pitch for an escape.
Most rock songs of that era were about "making love" or "the road." This was different. It felt personal, almost like a diary entry disguised as a psychedelic rock anthem. The title itself—What Is and What Should Never Be—sounds like a philosophical thesis. It deals with the tension between reality and the "could-have-beens."
Interestingly, this was one of the first songs where Page used his signature "backward echo" technique, though it’s more subtle here than on "Whole Lotta Love." He would record the echo of a sound onto a separate track, then flip the tape over so the echo preceded the note. It creates that ghostly, "sucking" sound that gives the track its eerie atmosphere.
A Legacy Beyond the Riff
You won't find this song on every "Greatest Riffs of All Time" list. It’s too complex for that. It’s a musician’s song. It’s the track that proved Zeppelin could be sophisticated. Without this song, you don't get "Stairway to Heaven." You don't get "The Rain Song." You don't get the experimental textures of Physical Graffiti.
Critics at the time were actually pretty divided on the band. Rolling Stone famously gave their first album a lukewarm review. But by the time Led Zeppelin II dropped, with this track as the second song on Side One, the narrative started to shift. People realized they couldn't just dismiss them as a "heavy" band. There was too much light and shade.
How to Truly Appreciate the Track Today
To get the most out of What Is and What Should Never Be, you have to stop listening to it as a classic rock radio staple.
- Get the 2014 Remasters: Jimmy Page spent years remastering the catalog. The 2014 version of Led Zeppelin II cleans up the mud in the low end. You can finally hear the separation between Jones’s bass and Bonham’s kick drum.
- Listen for the Panning: Use high-quality over-ear headphones. Focus on the outro. The way the guitar swirls around your head was revolutionary for 1969.
- Analyze the Dynamics: Notice the volume. The band isn't just playing louder in the chorus; they are playing with more intent. The "quiet" parts are just as intense as the "loud" parts.
- Contextualize the Era: Remember that this was recorded in between tour dates. The band was exhausted, fueled by adrenaline and the sheer shock of their sudden fame. That frantic energy is baked into the recording.
Stop looking for the "hook" and start looking for the "groove." The groove in the verses is where the magic happens. It’s a masterclass in restraint from a band that was rarely accused of being restrained.
If you're a guitarist, try learning the verse chords. They aren't your standard power chords. There’s a jazz sensibility there—major sevenths and subtle movements that require a light touch. It’s the antithesis of the heavy-handedness that people associate with "Hard Rock." Honestly, it’s just a beautiful piece of music that happens to get very loud every forty-five seconds.
The real lesson of the song? Don't be afraid to change the mood. Zeppelin wasn't scared of being "soft," and that’s exactly why their "heavy" moments hit so much harder than everyone else's.