It’s an awkward situation to talk about seeing these once legendary 1960s groups in these 2000 eras, since most have critical fatalities within the group and far more enthusiastic and overly rambunctious remaining members. It’s nothing new to turn on VH1’s “Where Are They Now?” and see a band like the Animals performing at the Pomona Fairplex or at some concert in the park, where all the members have appeared to clearly let themselves go by gaining 60lbs and surrendering to the Hawaiian shirt. A lot of these band members start kicking in the air and trying to reach those once reachable notes and it just makes you cringe and want to yell, “Stop! You don’t have to act like you’re 21 anymore! It‘s ok!” Thinking it would mask their age, many bands hire these 19 year old guitarists and (gulp) singers to replace deceased members and add in unnecessary guitar solos in their most beloved flower power ballads. Thank God The Zombies are nothing like this.
Everyone says, “who?” but I can assure you, everyone knows who The Zombies are, and at the same time, no one knows who they are. They were the 2nd British invasion group to score a #1 U.S hit and gained popularity through their songs “She’s Not There” and “Tell Her No”. The real hitter is of course the beloved 1968 track “Time of the Season”, another result of their genius and the ending of the 12 song masterpiece that is Odessey and Oracle, their final LP, though arguably the best, before splitting up. Today, Odessey and Oracle continues to place in the ‘greatest’ charts and was recently awarded a Classic Album Award by Mojo magazine on June 11th of this year. And if you ever wonder how Fleet Foxes came to be what they are, that album will explain the whole damn thing. So, The Zombies are kind of a big deal.Why?
Aside from the Beatles, The Zombies were perhaps the most sophisticated songwriters and most knowledgeable in actual music composition of any British invasion group. The Zombies were uniquely different, with a subtler style, often jazzier and more inventive chord structures. Rod Argent’s keyboard playing ranges from a sweet melody to a wild rampage where fingers defy the speed of matter. Colin Blunstone’s voice is powerful and sultry and pays homage to the blues predecessors of their time with his Motown-esque harmonization and vocal range. Together, the two paired with guitarist Paul Atkinson, drummer Hugh Grundy and bassist Paul Arnold, created some of the most urbane and refined music of the era. Instead of writing about California girls and how they want to hold your hands, they told us a story about the girl they loved being in prison and writing a letter to her, anticipating her arrival. You would expect a band like this to deliver, and believe you me, they did.
The band was enthusiastic, yet tamed and played everything almost the same as the original recordings; no nasty guitar solos, no random yelling, no jumping or high kicks. It was nice. Argent was the wild one of the group, clearly. He came to the microphone, making claims at his writing of their biggest hit “Time of the Season” and was eating up the spotlight with his long, extravagant keyboard solos. Colin Blunstone is another story. I’ve always liked him, since I feel like we relate. He was enormously polite, demure and charming when speaking, yet was a monolith when singing with nearly perfect range. Blunstone timidly instructed the crowd to, “leave their inhibitions at the door” and to “sing out loud the chorus with them” and then stepped aside when Argent went nuts.
The Zombies have replacements, but have kept it within the family, so to speak. There is bassist Jim Rodford, whom is Rod Argent’s cousin, Pete Quaife’s replacement in the Kinks, as well as his son Steve on drums, so it makes the whole thing more legit.
I think that I would’ve questioned the lineup, as a mega fan, but the real magic began when they played 4 of the 12 Odyssey and Oracle tracks. They played the opening tracks “Care Of Cell 44” and “A Rose for Emily” and two other tracks “This Will Be Our Year” and “Time of the Season.” I wish that they would’ve played more Odyssey and Oracle tunes, personally, but I was satisfied with what it was that I got. The stoic Blunstone knew that this was his crowning moment; the jewels within their career and something worth leaping about. When showing physical enthusiasm by bending his knees and extending his arms outwards for a small jump, he seemed flustered, like a little boy that just broke a rule of some sort. With that type of meek, humble spirit, TheZombies aren’t at all pompous in their great achievements, as much as they seem surprised. Even though they have old photos of them all sitting in a bath together and ask an anonymous woman “Who’s your daddy? Is he rich like me?” But that’s the great thing about them.
For the past 47 years, they’ve managed to upkeep that boyish charm and continue to stress the importance of knowing instead of just playing. They weren’t out to make a catchy riff; they were there to paint stories, all of which are in my mind, bright and shiny gems of memory.
B. Kramer
Tags: The Wiltern, The Zombies
