Zombies 2: Odessey & Oracle

Despite constant recording and touring, the Zombies weren’t able to ride the success of their first hit singles. Unbowed, they put their all into the ambitiously titled Odessey & Oracle, which ultimately broke up the band.

While the title and matching cover art reflected the psychedelic Summer of Love, the music was merely well-crafted, straightforward pop, built again mostly around Rod Argent’s keyboards, embellished by harmonies clearly influenced by that other cult classic Pet Sounds, and the Mellotrons left lying around at Olympic and EMI’s Abbey Road studios. The songs themselves, written separately by Argent and Chris White but perfectly matched, reflected the shift from mindless pop to near literature, as befit any band trying to compete in the marketplace with the likes of the Beatles and the Kinks.

From the start, these aren’t your ordinary love songs. “Care Of Cell 44” is a musical love letter to someone about to be released from prison, and it’s never stated what the inmate’s gender is. It’s positively infectious from start to finish, and the repeats of the “feel so good you’re coming home soon” hook never get tiring. Inspired by the macabre William Faulkner short story, the chamber pop arrangement of “A Rose For Emily” is fitting. Using an acoustic guitar for a change, the contrasting minor and major keys of “Maybe After He’s Gone” effectively reflect its lyrics, and a Leslie effect on the electric provides “Beechwood Park” with its own shade. The parlor sound on each verse of “Brief Candles” transforms to living color for each chorus before returning, and we really like how the guitar is paired with the Mellotron throughout “Hung Up On A Dream”.

Vinyl is a good way to experience the album, as the flute setting of the Mellotron dominates “Changes”, luckily balanced by the harmonies on the choruses, and tension between. The most Beatlesque track is the jaunty “I Want Her, She Wants Me”, with a prominent bass line wandering precisely underneath the dancing harpsichord. The joyful hope continues on “This Will Be Our Year”, though we prefer the mix without the horns. If anything might derail the listener’s enjoyment, “Butcher’s Tale (Western Front 1914)” is a harrowing antiwar song set in the first World War, a common fascination for British musicians of the time. Sung with suitable quivering by Chris White, it made for an unlikely single. “Friends Of Mine” returns the mood to sunny, as the narrator celebrates all the happy couples in his life, the backing vocals even reciting their names. Finally, “Time Of The Season” manages to be a musical progression for the band, while still evoking the cool of “She’s Not There”, with those sighing call-and-response vocals and a virtuosic organ solo.

It’s fitting that the album ends with the song that ultimately got the album onto the charts. The omnipresent Al Kooper was doing A&R for Columbia Records at the time, found Odessey & Oracle in a stack of import LPs, and spearheaded its American release. Its subsequent success prompted the suits to get the band to record a follow-up, and they tried, but Colin Blunstone had already quit the business and the remaining members were already morphing into Argent. (Once again, the Zombie Heaven box set nicely fills in the blanks.)

Over the years Odessey & Oracle became one of those relatively obscure records touted by rock snobs as a lost classic. Depending on how sick you were of hearing “Time Of The Season” on oldies stations, newcomers could be justifiably skeptical. But it truly is a grower, we’re lucky to have it in the world. It’s been reissued several times in the digital age, usually with bonus tracks like those later singles, sometimes with the mono and stereo versions together. (We lean towards the mono ourselves.)

The Zombies Odessey & Oracle (1968)—4½

Zombies 1: The Zombies

The so-called British Invasion following the Beatles brought a deluge of pop combos to American airwaves, and given the precedent of the Fab Four, wacky names abounded. The Zombies, however, were neither a Merseybeat group nor an R&B outfit trying to grab the brass ring while clad in matching suits and sporting moptop haircuts. For one, the band was driven not by guitars but largely by main songwriter Rod Argent’s electric piano. Colin Blunstone had a predominantly breathy voice that could leap into a shriek on command. Harmonies abounded.

True to the American tradition of chopping up British LPs and leaning on the hits, The Zombies cherrypicked from their native debut Begin Here, adding a few leftovers from B-sides and EPs, and gave key attention to the two smash hits written by Argent. “She’s Not There” came first, and takes the opening spot on side one. Despite its sophisticated arrangement, in each chorus there’s a wonderfully audible gasp of an inhale that most producers would have been quick to fix. “Tell Her No” wasn’t as big, but its use of Bacharach-style major-seventh chords have vaulted it as a major classic, and one of the gems of the era. Beyond those, “It’s Alright With Me” begins as a generic dance number with a riff and ascending chords, but throws a curve ball at the end of the second verse by slowing down the tempo, then diving into a top-speed piano solo. Similarly, “Sometimes” begins one way, then chugs along over a Vox organ for aural variety. “Woman” lets guitarist Paul Atkinson play the riff.

Argent wasn’t the only band member holding his head up (yeah, we went there) in the songwriting department. Bassist Chris White offered up the musically intricate “I Don’t Want To Know” and the tongue-tripping “What More Can I Do”. “Work ‘n’ Play” is an instrumental credited to their producer, and throws in a few unexpected changes under the harmonica.

Everybody covered Motown in those days, but their take on “You Really Got A Hold On Me” gets a twist by getting attached to Sam Cooke’s “Bring It On Home To Me” in a medley. “Can’t Nobody Love You” was borrowed from Solomon Burke, and the Gershwins’ “Summertime” is taken as a waltz showing off their chops. That’s not to say they couldn’t hold their own in a club, as demonstrated by their stomp through “I Got My Mojo Working”, led by Hugh Grundy demolishing the drums.

Even two-hit wonders had trouble keeping momentum in the face of shifting PR strategies, so it was years before more of the band’s work was properly heard in context. The comprehensive Zombie Heaven box set collects all the songs here as well as on singles, EPs, plus of course the British album, showing off what the band actually could offer if only anyone had heard them. They did put their all into a grand hurrah of sorts, and we’ll discuss that in due time.

The Zombies The Zombies (1965)—3