Ever wonder what a postmodern, pro-feminist book written in the dense style of rococo academia devoted to studying Led Zeppelin would be like?

Fair enough--neither did I. But apparently, Susan Fast, an associate professor and director of music criticism in the school of arts at McMaster University, did, because she's written a new book called In The Houses of The Holy: Led Zeppelin and The Power of Rock Music, which is the first "serious" study of that oft-maligned band's music. (As opposed to Stephen Davis' The Hammer of the Gods, which Led Zeppelin loathed, but was the first decently written non "clip job", non hagiographic biography of the band.

When Fast's book was first listed in Amazon, I was hopeful: a serious analysis of Led Zeppelin's music was long overdue. I studied Jimmy Page's guitar playing and record production techniques quite seriously beginning in high school, when I first began to play the electric guitar. Later my college era rock band played many of their songs. So I can say that Led Zeppelin's music, while often (but not always) harmonically simple, is frequently rhythmically complex, and often wildly experimental. In addition to lots of bluesy riff bashing, hard rock power chording and screaming bent-note guitar solos, there are elements of pop, Celtic, Indian, folk, and 20th century classical music that run throughout it. And Page and his secret weapon, master arranger/bassist/keyboard player John Paul Jones were a producer/arranger team whose work was second only to George Martin's with the Beatles. So musically, there is rich material, just waiting to be mined.

And there is some interesting material in Fast's book: Jones, easily the best schooled musician in the group, was a source for the book, and provides several, if all too brief insider observations on their music and stage presentation. (When Jones writes his biography or musical analysis of Zeppelin, that will be a good read!) Fast is particularly fascinating when she explores the duality between Jimmy Page's somewhat fey appearance and stage image and the band's roaring, "cock rock" (a phrase she explores to the nth degree) macho sound. Or the sources of inspiration for the folkish, vaguely classical-sounding opening of "Stairway to Heaven" and the Indian modalities that inspired "Kashmir".

If only Fast had stuck to the band's music. Maybe I'm stereotyping, but it's tough for me to picture the typical Led Zeppelin fan wading all the way through the dense prose dripping with rampant Said, Sontag and Foucaultisms. And like a typical occupant of the postmodern ivory tower, overflowing with liberal guilt, Fast sees racism at every turn, at one point, launching into a homily on the lack of acceptance of rap music by the largely white fans of Zeppelin, brought on by an analysis of "Come With Me", Puff Daddy's reworking of Led Zeppelin's groundbreaking 1975 song "Kashmir", which Puff coaxed Jimmy Page to play guitar on, much to Page's fans' collective chagrin). Soon after, she goes off a jag against Eric Clapton, because the white Clapton dared to have Muddy Waters, his childhood idol, open for him on a tour.

Fast claims there's nothing cynical about the band's music (even as her own writing at times drips with it), and while that's true, she ignores the astonishingly cynical undertones of their lone film, The Song Remains The Same, which presents Led Zeppelin's band members as living in bucolic splendor in England and Scotland, but shows America as a smog filled cesspool, their fans as cannon fodder drug addled teenagers, and their stateside promoters as rapacious con artists to be thumped by the band's then manager, the late woolly mammoth Peter Grant.