Good Mornin’

Well, it was one of those weeks last week, where the markets felt less like an orderly board meeting and more like Coachella….loud, busy, crowded, and everyone trying to grab the mic. Central banks jumped on stage too, and instead of belting out solos, they were quietly trimming rates.

Following signs of weakening labour markets in both Canada and the U.S., central banks resumed easing this week. The Fed cut 0.25% … its first since December 2024, citing softer jobs data and tamer inflation, while the Bank of Canada matched with its own 0.25% trim to support trade-impacted sectors and a cooling labour market. Bond yields split, with short-term yields falling alongside policy and longer-term yields edging higher as markets weighed whether proactive cuts could prolong growth. Rate-sensitive areas like housing may benefit, but the risk remains that too much easing reignites inflation.

From Headlines to Headphones

That’s the market. But with all the headlines and politics swirling, weekends sometimes call for a different kind of debate, one that sparks its own economic insight. This Saturday, around my neighbor Professor Fletcher’s fire, one of my favorite questions was raised:

Who’s the greatest band of all time?

The usual suspects always surface: the Stones, the Beatles, maybe The Band or the Traveling Wilburys… perhaps U2 if you’re feeling generous.

For me, there’s no hesitation. It’s Led Zeppelin.

Being a bit of a music fan, when I think of music, I don’t think of it as just entertainment or art, it’s instruction. The best songs aren’t lectures, but they teach all the same: patience, risk, harmony, resilience. Every great band leaves behind more than melodies; they leave blueprints for how to build, endure, and….if we look close enough, even invest.

Lessons from Legends

Of course, naming a “greatest band” isn’t really the point. What matters is what their music shows us — how art can teach us about building, compounding, and enduring. Zeppelin, more than any other, left behind lessons that stretch far beyond music.

Every long climb starts quietly. Greatness isn’t rushed, it’s built, step by step.

The Stairwell Trick

Winter 1970–71. A cold Victorian house in Hampshire. Zeppelin hauls their gear into Headley Grange, chasing a new sound. Engineer Andy Johns drags John Bonham’s kit into the stone stairwell, mics it from the landing, and lets the room become the instrument. Bonham plays and the stairwell answers. That’s stairwell, that echo, that’s the seismic drum sound of When the Levee Breaks.

It wasn’t more force; it was better leverage.

The Lesson: Find your stairwell. In investing, it’s the system that multiplies effort without extra strain….. time horizon, tax strategy, reinvestment. The room matters as much as the playing.

Stairways, Not Shortcuts

When Zeppelin first performed Stairway to Heaven live in Belfast in 1971, the audience barely reacted. I know…wild! The crowd wanted hits, not an eight-minute slow build. But…the band played it anyway. Masterpieces aren’t recognized in the moment; they’re built over time.

The Lesson: Compounding is your stairway. Early silence doesn’t mean failure. The climb feels flat until suddenly it doesn’t. Staying the course is the solo.

Noise, Chaos, and the Bass Line

I’ve had the opportunity to chat with a few folks who were able to see Zeppelin live, and it apparently sounded like they might explode. Bonham’s thunder on the drums, Page’s distortion of the guitar, and Plant’s howl of a magical voice. But beneath it all, John Paul Jones’ bass line held the groove. That quiet foundation turned chaos into coherence.

The Lesson: Markets roar and wail…central bank moves, oil prices, currencies, politics. The bass line is your allocation and discipline. With it, volatility becomes rhythm. Without it, everything collapses into feedback.

When the Levee Breaks

That stairwell track became iconic because it carried weight. You can feel the pressure in every beat…warning that ignored strain eventually bursts. Markets are no different: consumer credit climbing, corporate debt rolling at higher coupons, a strong dollar squeezing abroad.

The Lesson: Resilience isn’t built in the flood. It’s built before. Trim concentration, hold liquidity, rebalance when it’s boring. Levee work is dull….until it saves you.

Plant’s Loss, and Resilience

In 1977, at the peak of Zeppelin’s fame, Robert Plant’s five-year-old son Karac died suddenly of a stomach virus. Horrible to think about as a father to five-year-old Bowie. The band canceled the rest of their U.S. tour. For a time, it seemed Zeppelin might end entirely. Plant nearly walked away from music all together.

But he didn’t…he returned, reshaped, with deeper gravity. The tragedy scarred him, but it also added new layers of humanity to his voice and his presence.

The Lesson: Loss is part of every life…and every portfolio. Resilience isn’t denial of risk, it’s recovery after it hits. What defines investors (and people) isn’t whether drawdowns or grief arrive, but whether you can return to the stage with wisdom forged in the fire.

Headley Grange Finance

The band’s lesson is simple: design beats force.

• Bonham’s stairwell wasn’t about hitting harder but using the room.
• Stairway to Heaven wasn’t about pleasing the crowd in the moment but trusting the long arc.
• Jones’ bass wasn’t loud, but it held the whole thing together.
• When the Levee Breaks was a warning set to rhythm: pressure must be managed, not denied.
• Plant’s return after tragedy revealed the human side of resilience: strength in the face of loss.

As Zeppelin sang: “…there’s still time to change the road you’re on.”

In markets, the road isn’t prediction, it’s preparation. Find your stairwell. Keep climbing the stairway. Hold the bass line. Build the levee before the flood and keep your rhythm intentional.

The noise will always be there. The song remains the same.

Be well and enjoy the moments,

Derek Henderson