Jimmy Page isn’t just a rock star — he’s rock ‘n’ roll sorcery incarnate. As the sonic architect of Led Zeppelin and a riff-wielding wizard, Page has long stood as one of the most revered figures in the pantheon of guitar gods. So, when he admits someone else could outplay him on stage, that’s not just praise — it’s borderline heresy.
Back in the gritty heart of 1960s London, Page was part of a now-legendary circle of guitar virtuosos that included Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck, and Big Jim Sullivan. Even before Led Zeppelin’s thunderous debut, Page had already etched his name into music history — first as a top-tier session guitarist, laying down licks for The Who, The Kinks, and Marianne Faithfull, and then as the final guitarist to join The Yardbirds. But his ascent didn’t stop there.
With the formation of Led Zeppelin in 1968, Page took rock to darker, heavier, and far more dangerous territory. By the time Led Zeppelin IV dropped in 1971, he wasn’t just another great player — he was the greatest, hailed for his innovative riffing, mystical tones, and masterful studio wizardry.
But Jimmy Page isn’t deaf to talent — especially when it comes from his own era. Deep Purple, another monster birthed from the London rock scene, emerged around the same time as Zeppelin, and with them came a player who’d eventually earn Page’s deepest respect: Ritchie Blackmore.
Like Page, Blackmore was a studio shark in the ‘60s — a technician with ferocious instincts and fire in his fingers. Before Deep Purple exploded, he even jammed with Page and Jeff Beck in the smoky halls of the London session scene. But once Purple found their stride — especially with 1970’s In Rock — Blackmore set himself apart with a searing, no-holds-barred approach to heavy music.
Page took notice.
Years later, he didn’t mince words. When it comes to live improvisation, Page admits he simply can’t keep up with Blackmore. “When it comes to a solo, I cannot touch him,” Page confessed. In a rare moment of humility during a talk at Oxford University in 2016, he doubled down: “I couldn’t touch that guy in the live concert arena, improvisation stakes.”
And to be fair, Blackmore had already returned the favor years earlier, crediting Page and Zeppelin with lighting a creative fire under Deep Purple. “I was impressed with what Zeppelin did,” Blackmore said in 2016. “I wanted to do that kind of stuff… We purposely made In Rock hammer along with no lull. I never wanted to work with an orchestra again.”
Page’s acknowledgment of Blackmore’s prowess isn’t just a compliment — it’s a coronation. In a world of egos and guitar hero myth-making, hearing one titan bow to another is a rare moment of truth. Because when Jimmy Page says he can’t compete with you in the solo arena… you’ve already won.
