Robert Plant Rediscovers Joy and Roots with the Uplifting New Single “Chevrolet”

Robert Plant’s “Chevrolet” arrives as a vibrant new single from his band Saving Grace, released on September 4, 2025, and pointing straight toward the self-titled album due later this month on Nonesuch. The track lands with the kind of confident ease that only decades of musical curiosity can deliver, and it immediately radiates joy—an open invitation to follow Plant down the rootsy paths he’s been exploring with this ensemble.

Part of the song’s spark comes from its lineage. “Chevrolet” is Plant and Saving Grace’s reimagining of Donovan’s 1965 “Hey Gyp (Dig the Slowness),” itself indebted to the 1930 delta blues number “Can I Do It for You” recorded by Memphis Minnie and Kansas Joe McCoy. Plant doesn’t mimic; he renews—folding those earlier spirits into a fresh, modern sway that feels both timeless and brand new.

On the album, “Chevrolet” serves as the curtain-raiser—the opening track that sets the tone for everything that follows. You can hear why they put it first: it walks in with a grin, taps the groove on the shoulder, and ushers the listener into a world where folk, blues, and gospel accents all trade friendly glances. As a scene-setter, it’s as welcoming as it is confident.

Saving Grace is a true band, not just a backing group, and the sonic chemistry is the proof. Plant trades lines and textures with vocalist Suzi Dian, while Oli Jefferson’s drums, Tony Kelsey’s guitars, Matt Worley’s banjo and strings, and Barney Morse-Brown’s cello round out a sound that feels earthy and airy at once—roots music brushed with stardust.

The project itself has been growing for years. Plant formed Saving Grace in 2019, road-testing songs and ideas that leaned into British and American folk traditions as much as into blues and spirituals. That live experience shows here: the band plays with the relaxed tightness of friends who have put in the miles together and now move as one.

“Chevrolet” joins a pair of recent previews that sketched the album’s breadth: the sacred-soul charge of “Gospel Plough” and an intimate, beautifully haunted reading of Low’s “Everybody’s Song.” Heard alongside those tracks, this new single completes a smiling triangle—joy, devotion, and reflection—signaling a record that celebrates the many rooms inside roots music.

You can dive straight into the single on official channels, where its lilt and rhythmic swagger come across with crisp clarity. Streaming it, you sense the balancing act that Plant and Saving Grace pull off: capturing the looseness of a room performance while wrapping it in a production that highlights every warm edge and dusty corner.

The full album, also titled Saving Grace, follows on September 26 and gathers these explorations into a single journey. It’s a collection shaped over six patient years, with Plant curating songs and inspirations like a traveler returning home with stories—and melodies—worth retelling. The anticipation feels well earned; the music sounds lived-in and loved.

Joy also comes from the prospect of hearing this material on stage. Plant and Saving Grace are set for a North American theater tour in the fall, a perfect setting for the close-up dynamics this band favors—intimate rooms where small details bloom large and every harmony lands like a friendly tap on the shoulder.

Plant has framed the record as a kind of “lost and found,” a place where old songs are rediscovered and renewed with curiosity rather than museum-glass caution. “Chevrolet” embodies that spirit perfectly: it’s respectful of its roots yet brimming with play, a reminder that the best revivals feel less like restorations and more like reunions.

There’s an easy grin in the performance, too—the kind that shows up when a band knows exactly where the groove sits. The beat leans forward just enough to sound eager, while the vocals carry that storytelling warmth Plant has refined over the years: playful, wise, and inviting, as if he’s nudging the listener closer to the campfire.

Harmonically, the arrangement glows with layers rather than weight. Guitars chime and purr, strings add cinematic shade, and the rhythm section holds the track like open arms. Nothing shouts, yet everything shines, and the whole thing feels kissed by daylight—the sonic equivalent of windows thrown open on the first, perfect morning of a road trip.

What makes the single especially joyful is the conversation happening inside it. You can hear the call-and-response threads between voices and instruments, the smile in a turnaround, the wink in a rhythmic accent. The band doesn’t rush; it enjoys the view, letting small gestures—an answering phrase, a lightly brushed drum—do the storytelling.

There’s also the pleasure of recognition without repetition. Listeners who know Donovan’s “Hey Gyp” will catch the DNA, but the song now wears a new suit that fits Plant’s present tense. It’s not nostalgia; it’s continuity—the past stepping into the room, taking a seat, and discovering that the party is very much still going.

By the time “Chevrolet” rolls to a close, it leaves a trace like sun on the dashboard: bright, warm, and a little adventurous. It’s the kind of track that makes you want to see the band live, to share that communal grin when the chorus lands and the room sways in easy time. That’s joy you can measure in smiles, not minutes.

Taken together, the single points to an album made for discovery and re-discovery alike. “Chevrolet” hums with gratitude for the music that built it and excitement for the roads ahead. It suggests that Plant’s great adventure—finding new ways to make old songs feel alive—has plenty of miles left, and that those miles are going to be fun.