Robert Plant & Saving Grace Reviewed: Led Zeppelin Legend Brings It All Back Home.
Robert Plant’s latest project, Saving Grace, is less a reinvention and more a heartfelt return to the roots that shaped him. Released on September 26, 2025, and credited to “Robert Plant with Saving Grace,” this album is a lovingly curated collection of folk, blues, country, and gospel reinterpretations. It’s a far cry from the bombast of Led Zeppelin, but it radiates quiet power, depth, and authenticity.
The Saving Grace band — featuring vocalist Suzi Dian, guitarist Tony Kelsey, banjo player Matt Worley, drummer Oli Jefferson, and cellist Barney Morse-Brown — has been playing together for years in low-key venues and festivals. That history shows. The chemistry is natural, lived-in, and intimate, giving the album a communal, almost homespun feel. Plant doesn’t dominate; he blends, often ceding vocal space to Dian or harmonizing with her in rich, understated arrangements.
The album’s 10 tracks are all covers, drawn from deep wells of American roots music and beyond — songs by Blind Willie Johnson, Memphis Minnie, Low, The Staple Singers, Moby Grape, Sarah Siskind, and more. Plant calls it “a songbook for the lost and found,” and it fits. There’s a sense of reverence in the performances, but not nostalgia. These aren’t museum pieces — they’re reinterpreted with care, texture, and a musician’s curiosity.
Highlights include “Everybody’s Song,” a haunting cover of Low’s 1990s original that Plant and Dian turn into a ghostly meditation. “Soul of a Man” is Plant at his most weathered and wise, channeling Blind Willie Johnson’s spiritual intensity with dignity. “Gospel Plough,” an old spiritual, is stripped down and eerie, drawing from the kind of ancient folk energies that once inspired Zeppelin’s “In My Time of Dying,” but with none of the bravado — just bare conviction.
Instrumentally, the album is organic and spacious. Acoustic guitars, banjo, cello, and subtle percussion weave a sound that’s more woodland chapel than arena. The production — recorded in the Welsh Borders and English countryside — lets silence and atmosphere do as much as the notes themselves.
Plant’s voice has aged gracefully. He no longer wails with the fury of youth; instead, he leans into restraint, nuance, and tone. It suits this material perfectly. There’s no sense of chasing former glories — only a master craftsman telling stories with the tools time has left him.
For some listeners, Saving Grace may feel too subdued. There are no hard rock fireworks, no dramatic climaxes. But that’s not what this album is about. It’s a mature, meditative, and generous offering — not meant to impress, but to share something deeper: the joy of songs passed down, revived, and reimagined.
In Saving Grace, Robert Plant doesn’t revisit his past to relive it. He returns to honor it — and in doing so, brings it all back home.
