Jesus Christ, The fucking ZOMBIES!
What a great band. They’re a bunch of school friends in England in the 1960s who won a battle of the bands competition and got signed to Decca Records and whose first single, “She’s Not There,” was an overnight sensation. That would be an interesting enough story on its own. But, as Robin Platts covers in the 350-plus pages of this extensive biography of the band and its members, there is so much more to the story. Even more than their other two most famous singles (“Tell Her No” and “Time of the Season”) as well as their magnificent second album.
The core members of Rod Argent (songwriter and organist), Chris White (songwriter and bassist), and Colin Blunstone (vocalist) are the ones whose lives and experiences comprise most of the text. I learned more about Argent’s and Blunstone’s solo careers than I thought possible because nearly a third of the book is dedicated to the years-in-between, when The ZOMBIES broke up and before these core members began to play together again on a regular basis. The subtitle of the book is not merely clever phrasing. Those years of “the fall” were much longer than the initial career of the band or their subsequent reunion. I am keen to explore some of the work these men did during this time, but it was a bit much to get through without having prior knowledge. If you are a fan of either one’s solo careers, I can’t imagine there could be a better or more meticulously researched resource than this book.
For me, though, thoughts of The ZOMBIES mean the conversation turns to “Odessey and Oracle.” It’s the best album of the 1960s. Better than “Black Monk Time,” and “Forever Changes.” Of course better than “Revolver,” “Let it Bleed,” and “Pet Sounds.” Better, too, than “Ogden’s Nut Gone Flake”, “SF Sorrow,” and, yes, even “Village Green Preservation Society” and “Arthur.” I haven’t revisited this opinion in 18 years and I’m sure it still holds up… It’s important to have thoughts like these because it shows you’re a serious music fanatic… There’s no need to expand your horizons, Rob…
To learn more about the recording of that album is a pure delight. Even when I got my mom a copy of the CD reissue in 2004, I didn’t know all of the ins and outs of its recording. They were the next band to go into Abbey Road Studios after The BEATLES had finished “Sgt. Pepper” and benefitted directly from some of the recording set-ups that the Fab Four had used. As there were no eight-track recording consoles in England at the time, it was kind of a big deal that engineers Geoff Emerick and Phil MacDonald had daisy-chained multiple four-tracks together to achieve the illusion of eight-tracks of mixing, generation loss on the tapes be damned. The ZOMBIES insisted on keeping the set-up, even though it was a pain to work with for the recording staff. If they hadn’t come into the room at that time, before the equipment had been disassembled, it’s unlikely that the vocal harmonies and instrumental complexity of certain passages of “Odessey and Oracle” would have sounded so lush and delightful. It’s really something to learn that The ZOMBIES were able to piggyback off of The BEATLES in this way, even before “Sgt. Pepper” began to make waves.
If not for the recording quality, the compositions of tracks such as “Friends of Mine” could have easily made the album worthwhile. As a friend of a friend of mine once put it, it’s a unique song because it’s about being happy for other people who are in love. He pointed out that there are plenty of songs about being in love, or no longer being in love, or being envious of those in love because you are single. There’s not many songs about this particular perspective. As the liner notes of that 2004 reissue indicate, only one of the named couples in the chorus stuck together for the long term. Ah well.
Turns out “Changes,” the first track on the second side of the album, is the only song where all five members of The ZOMBIES sing together. Deep down, I already knew this to be true. It was extremely validating to have it confirmed in the text, though. You see, there is a moment after the second chorus where the instruments drop out and the vocals are all you can hear. It is in this precise moment that you can hear at least one, if not all five, of The ZOMBIES smack their lips in unison to sing the next line. You may have to turn your stereo up quite loud to hear it, and then immediately back down to not blow out your speakers or your ears when the song begins again. This one moment is the quintessence of being a Friday Night Part. It sounds like a frog being born. I absolutely love it. Maybe you do, too?
In all seriousness, this book is an excellent overview of the career of The ZOMBIES. Their tentative comeback around the turn of the millennium wasn’t some kind of cash-in on their name. Except for drummer Hugh Grundy, all members had continued to be involved with music whether as writers, performers, or promoters. (Turns out guitarist Paul Atkinson is the A&R guy who got JUDAS PRIEST signed to CBS; I am so glad there is a connection between these bands!) So, when Argent and Blunstone began to write together again in the late 1990s, they were pleasantly surprised to learn that “Odessey and Oracle” had developed a cult following since its 1968 release. Instead of resting on the laurels of doing the front-to-back, album-in-its-entirety tour forever (they did do so for a time), they have put out new music. Platts makes their constant writing and touring—for musicians in their 60s and 70s—seem necessary, unavoidable. There was no cataclysmic split in the band’s original run. They all were on the same page about calling it quits, even before they bestowed us with the majesty of “Odessey and Oracle.” There were never any competing factions vying for the rights to the band’s name. Well, not within their camp, at least; Platts recounts the grifters who took advantage of the name recognition of the band after they split and “Time of the Season” became a surprise hit in the U.S. in 1969. It’s the kind of scam that would be unimaginable now—trying to pass off a couple of bearded schlubs from Michigan as a British Invasion band. The surviving members have continued to enjoy each other’s company enough to keep the band going in some form or another after 30 years apart. It seems the genuine awe of feeling so good about seeing friends of theirs so in love represented a deep way of connecting with others that would eventually give The ZOMBIES eternal life.
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