A Very Important Album, apparently

Saturday night, 1am. There is facial hair everywhere.
A night out near home at the Moustache Bar, Dalston, London, where the walls are dotted with fat black ‘taches and water stains. My friend M and I are debating how young a young man has to be before it’s wrong to take him home. I move on to this week’s amazing guitar discovery: Led Zeppelin.
"Oh my god, that’s awful! It’s all cheesey 70s rock" says M.
"What do you mean?" I gasp, on dubious ground since I’ve only listened to the album once and I’m not sure if she’s maybe right.
"Oh, I don’t know, I just don’t like guitars" she says.
WHAT??
That’s like saying you don’t like food or breathing.
I’m staring at her trying to grasp the cosmic enormity of how to explain guitar music when reggae starts blasting across the room. I feel stone cold; unmoved. Then I realise other people might feel like this about massive, through-your-body moments on electric guitar. Like the beginning of Arctic Monkeys You Look Good On The Dancefloor. Or even, yes, the chorus bit in Love Bites (Def Leppard, 80s non-fans).
I don’t know where this guitar response mechanism comes from but I know I’ve got it. And this week I have discovered I like Led Zeppelin. It turns out this album, from 1969, is full of blues and folk. Obviously this will not be news to anyone who can actually play the guitar or 90 per cent of teenage boys. Where do they learn this stuff? I went to an all girls school and the only music we explored was on Simon Bates Our Tune.
And if you know what I'm talking about, you'll understand why all the boys in Dalston seem so young.