The Zombies: No need to wake the dead within this British institution

There was this record that stuck in my brain from being a very, very young boy. It would crop up now and again – maybe in the car on a family trip, or playing in an arcade, or on a TV advert, or on the stereo at my Nan and Grandad’s on a Saturday morning. They always had the 60’s channel tuned in, you see, which is probably where my love of the era comes from. It was a song so mesmerising and hooky and damn right stimulating that it loathed me, even as a kid, not to know what it was. It ate away at me for years, and I couldn’t explain it to anyone well enough to find out. There’s this song … I would say, never getting any further.

That song, of course, was She’s Not There.

One of the standout songs of the 60’s, She’s Not There is The Zombies’ staple record. The music video of the band live on the Hullabaloo TV Show in 1965 is priceless archival footage, and synonymous with my recollections of it. Colin Blunstone, so handsome and fresh-faced in the throws of that adorable effeminate sway. Chris White, quintessentially 60’s with a touch of nerdy Buddy Holly about him, revelling in the harmonies and eloquent bass parts. Hugh Grundy, comic at the rear amongst the statues and sultry women, striking and dishy in his youth. And then the lynch-pin and musical genius, Rod Argent, lost in his swirling vortex of keyboard flurry, pumping out the backbone of his brilliant composition. A vital part of our contemporary music history, right there, with those four lads from St Albans. 

That was my intro to The Zombies. And yet now, almost sixty years later, they are touring the world – not just as a nostalgic, catch-us-now-before-it’s-too-late classic act, like so many others. But as a progressive, forward-thinking, kick-ass live band writing new material that is simply BRILLIANT. There aren’t too many of our heroes of those times left, and even fewer engaged in writing and producing new original music. McCartney is one. Dylan is another. There’s been rumours of a new Stones album for about fifteen years. The Who have flirted with new material on and off. But these boys – these boys have had a late career boom that has culminated in the best record they’ve made in Different Game since 1968’s Odessey and Oracle. Now that’s really saying something. 

I want to take the story back, however. Back to the early noughties, not long after their serious reunion of 2004, when Argent and Blunstone decided to put the band back together properly. As a music loving youngster, I’d got wind that The Zombies were playing just down the road in a tiny little venue St Helens theatre called The Citadel. 

The Zombies, I’d remembered saying. As in ‘She’s Not There’?

Of course, it was. 

I snapped up tickets and went along, knowing just two songs. The one I’ve never stopped going on about, and Time Of The Season – their stateside chart-topper, reaching number three on the Billboard Hot 100 and number one on the American Cashbox chart. Another song from the depths of keys player Rod Argent’s wonderful imagination, and one that would become an iconic memory of 1960s psychedelia. I hadn’t yet found the other amazing stuff from The Zombies early days. Stuff like the whimsical Tell Her No, the jaunty Care Of Cell 44, the seriously groovy I Want You Back Again and the dreamy I’m Going Out Of My Head. Stuff like the kaleidoscopic, Sgt. Peppery Beechwood Park, the heart-wrenching I Love You, the uplifting and vocally assured This Will Be Our Year, and my favourite of all, the absolutely stunning, silky, melancholy masterpiece that is Leave Me Be.

I didn’t know any of it, but I’d know most of it by the end of that night.

The Citadel gig in St Helens remains one of my favourite gigs of all time. From a man that has travelled the world watching everyone who has been alive long enough to gig in my era, that’s some statement. The Zombies are up against all the greats on that front – Macca, Dylan, Springsteen, The Stones, Cohen, Roxy Music, Bowie, Clapton, Tom Jones, BB King, The Who, James Brown, Fleetwood Mac, Carole King, Neil Young, CSN, James Taylor, Willie Nelson, AC/DC, The Eagles, Paul Weller, Tom Petty, Glen Campbell, Paul Simon … I mean, I’m out of breath reeling them off. There are many, many more too – lesser household names, but those who have put on shows that have sent me home absolutely inspired. Terry Reid, Michael Kiwanuka, Joan As Policewoman, PJ Harvey, Dr John, America, Chris Farlowe, Lonnie Donnegan … I could literally go on all night. The point is not how much I can brag about all the gigs I’ve been to; the point is the competitionThe Zombies have faced when considering my favourite shows of all time. 

Honestly, that first gig of theirs I ever saw was mind blowing.

Colin Blunstone was a force of nature that night. I’d rarely heard a vocal so powerful and commanding – and from such a softly spoken, delicately poised man, too. It was riveting. Argent compèred the show as much as directed it musically, telling gripping stories between songs and providing that historical link that elevated everything they did. Bless him, the late Jim Rodford was with them that night too on bass. A brilliant player, and so distinct with his headless bass. He was a small man with a huge presence, and a wonderful harmony singer too. His son, Steve, was on the kit then and still is now – a solid servant to the song, and a great character in the mix. Rick Birkett played guitar that night, and was quite the player, as is the tasteful, inventive Tom Toomey in the current lineup. It was a gig, in a tiny old theatre, that I’ll never forget. Every single song took me somewhere. My Zombies fascination had been born.

Their closing number that night – a version of the legendary George Gershwin composition, Summertime – damn near made me weep. Weep with thanks that I was there to witness it.

On top of the outstanding music, I got to meet Rod Argent and Colin Blunstone that night. They were just starting out again, rebuilding their fanbase as a band that had been so long defunct, so out they came to see the fans and sign some records. I was so pleased to shake their hands and tell them how much the night had meant to me. I think they were also pleasantly surprised to see a guy barely out of his teens so enthused by it all, too. 

Now, that’s just commonplace. A Zombies gig is for everyone, of all ages. They are bigger and more popular than they’ve ever been.

New line-up, new album

Rod Argent and Colin Blunstone are both 77 years old now, with birthdays separated by just a few weeks. By that age most people are long retired, living out their winter years in peace and tranquillity. But not these guys. Not yet.

The two remaining original Zombies have fires in their bellies for writing and recording, and even more passion for playing live. The younger guys in the band are much to do with that. Guitarist Tom Toomey, who has been in the line-up since 2010, is a virtuoso player who has worked with the likes of Don McLean, Sir Cliff Richard, Leo Sayer, Paul Young, Gene Pitney and Marc Almond, to name a few. His contribution to writing tunes has evidently been a huge source of encouragement and motivation for Argent and Blunstone. Danish bass guitarist, SØren Koch, has been with the group since 2018 when Jim Rodford sadly died, and is also very evidently a new lease of creative, energetic life within the band. Steve Rodford can hardly be classed as new, having been with The Zombies throughout their new incarnation post 2004. His merits as a world class drummer don’t need to be exaggerated. 

And so, after a series of new records, beginning with As Far As I Can See (2004), Breathe Out, Breathe In (2011) and Still Got That Hunger (2015), The Zombies dropped Different Game in early 2023, with a supporting world tour to boot. In fact, the UK leg has been a hangover from covid. I booked my tickets to see them in New Brighton at The Floral Pavilion back in 2019, and wouldn’t actually realise that purchase until May 5th 2023, but that’s for later. The important thing is the new record, which is easily The Zombies best for decades, and right up there with one of the finest albums an elder-statesmen band have ever made. Argent is red hot as ever, Blunstone has developed a wonderful vibrato in his later years when most artist’s voices are fading, and the rest of the band are locked in like an anchor deep in the sea bed. It’s phenomenal. 

The record begins with the title track, Different Game, brandishing Argent’s archetypal organ sound and Blunstone’s passionate, searing vocal. He sings “God knows life seemed / Such a different game”… the way we all feel when reflecting on our past. But now the game isn’t going so badly, is it fellas? A superb new record, sell out tour dates, and a band that’s more than just alive and kicking. Dropped Reeling & Stupid sees Argent and Blunstone share the lead vocal, and it has the sort of sultry, jazzy production, coupled with an inch perfect keys break and proggy guitar riff that has become associated with The Zombies’ later output. By this point the record is frothing with propulsive rhythms and schmaltzy, deliberate soundscapes. Just delicious.

“Now somehow I’m feeling so completely … Now I feel I’m living so sweetly” Blunstone sings in Rediscover, and you can’t help smiling at the triumph of it all. The Zombies, happier than ever and revelling in their own legend, particularly after their 2019 induction into the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame, pouring their satisfaction into beautifully crafted songs such as this. Runaway could easily have been on an Argent record back in the day – a stunning, steamy, sweltering track that illuminates that rich Blunstone vibrato that I mentioned earlier. Tom Toomey plays out of his skin, too. 

Side A of the record (I’ve obviously bought the limited edition, signed vinyl) culminates with the ballad You Could Be My Love, which harks back to Odessey and Oracle days. Between Argent and Blunstone is a chemistry that ignites the most remarkable, orchestral melodies, and once again the vocal is the perfect foreground for the backdrop of ethereal strings. Merry-Go-Round has a funky lilt that is driven by a boogy-woogyish keys hook, and once again, metaphorical lyrics that could easily be interpreted as reflections on their late-career flourishing: “So come on, just keep on running / I know that you can cover the ground / This time, just keep it coming / And I will lead you to the place where everything will be found / Life is a merry go round”. The Zombies have certainly kept on running when most have disappeared, or at best, pulled up with a stitch.

Love You While I Can is a delicate melody, with a wonderful guitar arrangement from the talented Toomey. This, too, could slip onto Odessey and Oracle without a single question being asked, which is testament to the quality of their current songwriting. The autumnal Odessey and Oracle has become widely recognised as one of the epic cult records ever made, and has been championed by the likes of Paul Weller and Dave Grohl. The idea that The Zombies are still making records of this calibre is beyond impressive.

I Want To Fly is a moody, symphonious number with all the flightiness and sentimentality of something Walker Brothers, and Got To Move On has a mix of flavours as broad as The Doors, The Stones, Macca and some of the blues harmonica players of old. The final track, The Sun Will Rise Again begins: “So little time / So much left to do”… I always remember an interview with David Crosby, in which he lamented the fact that we don’t have a two-hundred year lifespan. For guys like him (who sadly died earlier this year), the late career spurt of creativity and inspiration comes with a sense of injustice that it isn’t the beginning of a second coming, but more of a glorious end. Crosby made great records towards his imminent fate too. I’m sure he’d have nodded in recognition of Different Game. 

Soulful, jazzy, ballady, jammy, emotive and ultimately triumphant, this record is The Zombies right now, in a new space, with something to say and everything to play for. Back in the day we would never have twisted our brains around the idea of rock stars continuing to tour, write and record into their 80’s. Now, I feel with The Zombies, it would be a tragedy if they didn’t.

And so to the gig in New Brighton. Having seen them half a dozen times over the last twenty years, I knew what was in store. I just hoped and prayed that they still had that hunger and that incessant touring hadn’t stolen their zeal. I needn’t have worried. They came out like an exocet missile from a very, very well oiled machine. I couldn’t have enjoyed it anymore, and I skipped back to the train down New Brighton promenade, signed vinyl in hand, with my mate who had never seen them before. 

Fuck me, that was good! He laughed.

Told ya! I said.

All hats are off and all ears are wide open. The Zombies are a force that remain. Young songwriters, take note!

Buy Different Game (including signed copies) here.