Introduction

Whilst there are few albums from the late sixties that I don't admire in some way or another, there are even fewer that I distinctly recall hearing for the first time. As that period yielded one of the finest musical harvests, most of what I heard was almost too much to really appreciate upon initial discovery. Yet some moments have pressed themselves whole like a dried flower into my memory. I know it was love at first hearing for the bucolic Village Green Preservation Society, but I couldn't tell you exactly when and how this love-struck, much the same for The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn, Are You Experienced, Ogden's Nut Gone Flake . Yet, the exact moment I heard The Zombies' Odessey And Oracle has remained with me, not only as a musical epiphany but also as a moment of sheer serenity. It was summer, the weather was bright and hopeful, there was promise in the air. And something had changed by the time the record finished .

It would have been enough if The Zombies only ever achieved the profound beauty of that album; creating at least two classic singles before it, and continuing to be both a live and recording act of both power and imagination, sweetens their afterlife even more.

The Zombies

In another life, The Zombies might have gone on to be bankers, art lecturers, English teachers, and anthropologists, or at least if you believe their early publicity. Much ado was made of their (supposedly) prodigious number of O Levels and promised, but deferred, university places. However, winning The Herts Beat Competition in May of 1964 changed this completely; not only had The Zombies garnered an impressive local reputation and a dedicated following, they'd won £250 and a recording contract. They were now just six months away from an American number one .

At least two of The Zombies came from musical backgrounds: keyboardist Rod Argent's father had led The Les Argent Quartet and then Les Argent and his Rhythm Kings; meanwhile, Ted, the uncle of bassist Chris White, was a renowned saxophonist and composer, and White's dad Harold had also played double bass in swing bands. It might not be surprising then that Argent and White would go on to be the chief songwriters for the band, although White was the last to join.

Rodney Terence Argent was born on 14 June 1945 to Les and Molly in St. Albans, Hertfordshire. Molly was one of eight children, providing Argent with a large extended family that would also prove to be helpful in his career because cousin and bassist Jim Rodford was a vital influence and champion - he'd also go on to be a latter-day Zombie. It was at Rodford's house that Argent heard Elvis Presley, sparking an interest in rock 'n' roll that would last a lifetime. Argent described it as 'two and a half minutes of music that changed my life'. He first learnt the harmonica at around the age of seven before moving on to the piano, and although he took formal lessons as a child, his passion first fired when, by ear, he managed to work out 'Swinging Shepherd Blues' by the Canadian saxophonist Moe Koffman, discovering how to harmonise around triads in the process. Not only did Argent have a grounding in rock 'n' roll and jazz, but classical music also struck a loud chord. Being taught music by Peter Hurford (who would later be made an OBE in honour of a very distinguished career as an organist and composer) introduced him to another world and, in particular, Bach. Hurford organised a performance of Bach's oratorio St Matthew Passion with St. Albans choir in which Argent was a chorister. He said it made him think, 'This is what music's all about'. When putting this alongside the other types of music that had fed his creativity, he remarked, 'It all felt like music from the same well'.

The oldest Zombie, Christopher Taylor White, was born two years previous to Argent on 7 March 1943 in Barnet, and later attended St Albans County Grammar School, where he met vocalist Colin Blunstone. Colin Edward Michael Blunstone arrived only ten days after Argent on 24 June 1945 in Hatfield. Coincidentally, his father Arthur was an engineer at the de Havilland factory, an aviation manufacturer where Argent's dad also worked, although it is thought that the seniors Blunstone and Argent didn't know each other.

But there was another link to the factory: drummer Hugh Birch Grundy (6 March 1945, Hampshire - making him the only Zombie not born in Hertfordshire) was a classmate of Argent's at St Albans School, and he'd moved to the county when his father Ted (an amateur violinist who made Grundy's first drum kit) got a job as an aircraft inspector at de Havilland's. Argent and Grundy wouldn't become mates until Argent began to think of getting a band together. However, it would be 1961 before this began to take shape; after Argent saw Grundy drumming in the school band, he asked if he'd like to create a group with him. Argent had already approached Paul Atkinson (Paul Ashley Warren Atkinson, born 19 March 1946, Cuffley) through the school folk club after being struck by his guitar playing. Atkinson's initial instrument had been the violin, which he eventually swapped for a cheap guitar - much to his mother's chagrin. As it happened, Atkinson and Grundy had already played together for a while. Meanwhile, through mutual friends, Argent had been helping another County Grammar School boy and neighbour, Paul Arnold, to build a bass guitar in Atkinson's dad's wood shop. Not only did Arnold join the band on bass, but he informed them that his mate Colin Blunstone was seeking a group too. Blunstone was told to meet the lads outside The Blacksmith Arms, and whilst his first musical impression must have been a strong one (Blunstone recalled performing Ricky Nelson's 'It's Late'), the personal impression he made was quite different. He told Robin Platts of Goldmine ('Time of the Zombies', 14 April 1995):

I remember when we first met that Saturday morning, I had a badly broken nose and two black eyes. My nose was all taped across - and I think I looked pretty aggressive - because they didn't know me at all. I played a lot of rugby when I was at school, and I had broken my nose, and I think they thought I was fairly rough and tough.

And then there were five.

At first, Argent intended to be the lead vocalist of what he initially envisaged as a guitar band, one of which Blunstone was playing. An early piece they performed together was the sultry 'Malaguena' by Ernesto Lecuona, whose dramatic peaks would go on to influence Argent's initial compositions. However, it is a classical guitar piece and suggests a very different sound to the one that came to characterise The Zombies. As they had little equipment at this time, Jim Rodford stepped in to lend them drums and offer pointers for getting started, including some drumming tips for Grundy. Argent said: 'Hugh had never played kick drums in his life. He picked it up really quickly'.

Rodford would later confess that he had little faith in the band at first and refused an invitation to join! He told Times Series in 2014 of his rationale: 'I was in the biggest band in the area, so why would I want to play with some young kids?' It wasn't long, however, before the band dynamic shifted for the better; after Blunstone heard Argent playing B Bumble and the Stingers' reworking of Tchaikovsky's 'Nutcracker', cleverly named 'Nut Rocker', he advised him to play keyboards instead. Blunstone has also said that he couldn't master The Shadows' 'Wonderful Land', leading him to re-think his musicianship. Luckily, when Argent heard Blunstone singing some Ricky Nelson songs, he was deeply impressed by his voice, and their destined roles were suddenly obvious. Their first gig at Lemsford Village Hall went well enough to prove this change was worthwhile. There was one hitch, however: the band questioned Arnold's commitment. Argent told Mojo's Johnny Black in 1997 that his own keyboard playing would often result in bleeding hands:

I'd put on an Elastoplast, but it would seep through, so I'd keep adding more. It was quite spectacular, all this blood on the keyboard. So I was going crazy, and the others were jumping around, but I looked over at Paul one night during 'Peggy Sue', and he was just standing there with his left hand in his pocket. He'd figured how to play the bassline on open strings, and, as the hall was chilly, he put his free hand in his pocket. Clearly, his heart wasn't in it, so we fired him.

It wasn't long before Arnold departed to follow a career in medicine, eventually practising in Canada. Nevertheless, he'd not only ensured that the band had a distinctive and superb singer in Blunstone, but (for the time) he'd also given them their obscure moniker. Whilst not everyone was an admirer of the band's name (members of Manfred Mann urged them to change it), it was certainly preferable to the erstwhile The Mustangs, The Sound Albans or even The Sundowners, taken from the 1960 Robert Mitchum film. Although, I do have a fondness for one of their other incarnations: Lady Chatterley and the Gamekeepers. Not averse to taking inspiration from literature, one wonders what a concept album by this line-up might have sounded like, especially after 'the end of the Chatterley ban and the Beatles' first LP.' In 2014, Music Times listed The Zombies in their...