I do know there's a lot of music where Led Zeppelin has been

Hear the words of Jimmy Page, master of strings and architect of thunder, who declared: “I do know there’s a lot of music where Led Zeppelin has been leant on. We didn’t do anything about it. And I wouldn’t want to, either.” These words, spoken with calm and generosity, reveal a truth about creation and legacy. For what is art, if not a flame passed from one soul to another? Page acknowledges that his band’s sound, once revolutionary, became a foundation upon which countless others built. And rather than clutching it jealously, he released it freely, like a river that flows to nourish all who drink from it.

The ancients knew this truth well. The philosopher Socrates taught no written doctrines, yet his student Plato carried forth his words, and Aristotle after him, until generations had been nourished by his thought. Did Socrates cry out against his followers for borrowing his wisdom? No, for he knew that truth and beauty are not diminished when shared—they grow. So too does Page speak as a sage: that when others lean upon Led Zeppelin, it is not theft but tribute, not robbery but continuation of a great song that began before them and will outlive them.

Consider the story of Johann Sebastian Bach, whose compositions were nearly forgotten after his death. Yet later masters—Mozart, Beethoven, and Mendelssohn—rediscovered his works and drank deeply from them. Their own genius was strengthened because they leaned upon his foundation. Did this diminish Bach? No, it immortalized him, weaving his spirit into the music of centuries. In the same way, Page recognizes that the countless bands inspired by Led Zeppelin are themselves living testaments to his music’s power.

What wisdom lies here! Many men, when others imitate their work, feel only anger, claiming ownership and crying against theft. But true greatness knows that influence is inevitable, and that to inspire is itself the highest crown. The artist who hoards his art dies with it, but the artist who releases it lives forever in the voices of others. Page, in his humility, reveals himself not only as a musician, but as a sage of creation. He sees that to inspire is greater than to possess.

Yet there is another lesson hidden in his words. By refusing to act against those who borrowed from his sound, Page freed himself from bitterness. He chose not the path of endless quarrels, but of peace. In this, he shows us that guarding one’s legacy with iron chains is a burden too heavy to bear. To let go is to remain light, untroubled, and free to create anew. The true artist does not look backward in resentment, but forward in inspiration.

Thus the teaching is clear: if your work is great, others will lean upon it. Rejoice, then, for this is proof that you have struck a chord deeper than yourself. Do not cling to credit as though it were gold, but let your work move where it will. For it is not in the courtroom but in the heart of the people that art finds its eternity. To inspire is to achieve immortality, and immortality cannot be stolen.

Practical wisdom follows: when others borrow from your work, ask yourself not “What have I lost?” but “What have I given?” See their imitation as proof of your influence, and their echo as the measure of your voice’s reach. Create freely, give generously, and do not bind your art with jealousy. And when you lean upon the work of others, do so with reverence, adding your own voice to the great song of history.

So let us remember the words of Jimmy Page. His acceptance of influence is not weakness, but strength. It is the strength of one who knows that true greatness is not diminished by sharing. His music lives not only in the riffs of Led Zeppelin, but in the countless bands that followed. This is the way of art, the way of wisdom: to give, to inspire, to let go—and in letting go, to live forever.