My wife, daughter and I recently found ourselves at an outlet mall in Edmonton, Alberta:
While on holiday to visit my wife’s best friend from high school, greet her first grandchild, and spend some time in the Canadian Rockies, as well as Glacier National Park in Montana.
The best friend’s younger daughter was navigating the women through a quest to purchase a Pandora bracelet for my daughter’s upcoming birthday.
Considering it was our second mall that day:
The first had been the mammoth West Edmonton Mall, (largest or second largest in North America, depending on the source), I was gassed.
While the girls made the purchase and mulled over the charm options, I sat on the bench outside the store and contemplated what I had done to deserve this fate.
Turns out, quite a bit.
Upon their exit, my daughter promptly spotted a clothing store she wanted to browse and pointed out that there was something for me right next to it. Indeed:
It was a record store.
And I quickly forgot my fatigue and was involuntarily sucked into it.
A year ago, I wrote about my return to vinyl, after a decades-long absence, upon receiving a record player from wife and daughter for my birthday:
Since then, I have continued to plunder the wares of thrift stores, estate sales and used record shops, usually not knowing what I wanted to find until I found it. My collection has been slowly growing and many great treasures have been unearthed in the past year.
Upon entering the store, on a whim I went to the “Z” section-
(“zed” if you prefer)
– to see if they had Odessey and Oracle by my British Invasion heroes The Zombies, which I had never seen in album form at any point in my lifetime. I was not expecting success, but amongst a plethora of Zappa, Warren Zevon, and ZZ Top, indeed there it was, a new copy, at least $30 cheaper than pretty much any other album in the store.
The heavens opened up, the angels sang, and a beam of light shone upon me as I held it in my hands in near disbelief, practically trembling.
Still wide-eyed, I dragged my daughter into the store and excitedly showed her what I had found, fumbling for the words to expound upon the significance. As we made the purchase, the cashier said “Wow, you don’t normally see a new album at that price.” I replied, “Oh, you don’t even know…” and could barely finish the sentence.
Growing up, I knew the same three songs by The Zombies that everyone else did:
- “Tell Her No”
- “She’s Not There”
- and “Time of the Season.”
At some point as an adult, I began to realize that these songs stood out amongst the crowd of 60s radio hits as having a unique sound, one to which I was particularly drawn. One day in the late 00s, I decided to hit up my local Tower Records, to see if I could find more music by this band.
I found a recently released compilation of 15 of their singles, from a label called Transluxe.
I bought it and ended up playing it practically endlessly for months, and my wife loved it too. Why hadn’t I been familiar with more of these songs?
The CD included an interview with Rod Argent, detailing the band’s formation in St. Albans, Hertfordshire, and its subsequent highs and lows.
Seems that after the initial success of their debut single “She’s Not There” in 1964 and their third single “Tell Her No”, the band repeatedly failed to land in the U.K., or the U.S. with anything else they put out there and were struggling to figure out how they could once again crack the code.
One after another, every single they released almost universally flopped for the next three years, despite the fact that the band felt they were writing hit material.
Discouraged, they decided to call it a day, but before they did, they recorded one last album, with band members Rod Argent and Chris White producing, and contributing the songs.
Only their second full album, Odessey and Oracle was quite different than anything they had done:
Leaning into a more arty, baroque-pop sound.
It was an explosion of creativity, with beautifully evocative lyrics vividly expressing the full spectrum of emotions, sophisticated chord changes, dream-like arrangements:
Helped by the addition of a Mellotron, wonderful touches of reverb and vocal effects, and trademark harmonies gloriously kicked into overdrive.
An inescapably bittersweet tone presided throughout, with Colin Blunstone’s achingly gorgeous, wistful lead vocals at the forefront.
And yes, the word ‘odyssey’ is misspelled in the album’s title, due to an error by the artist who designed the exquisite cover.
Several singles were released, and none charted, with the entire album landing with a thud. Already having agreed to break up, the band dissolved, and individual members went their separate ways.
In the meantime, CBS staff producer Al Kooper picked up a copy of the album while in the U.K. and was enamored with it, encouraging CBS to release the album in the U.S. on the small Date label.
Two singles were released but went nowhere and the album once again basically disappeared.
The following year, Zombies’ founder and keyboardist Rod Argent was in the midst of launching his new band Argent with Zombies’ bassist Chris White enlisted to help with songwriting and producing.
When something unexpected happened.
One of the singles from Odessey and Oracle, “Time of the Season” began getting airplay in the U.S., almost a year after its initial release.
It slowly picked up steam and went all the way to #3 on the Hot 100 and #1 on Cashbox, fitting right in with the trippy, “make love not war” vibes of the moment.
Many calls for The Zombies to record another album ensued, with even John Lennon reportedly expressing interest in producing them, but for the band, it was over and time to move on.
Over the years, the band’s enduring legacy would be the aforementioned three songs. As for Odessey and Oracle, it remained in relative obscurity for several decades.
Near the turn of the century, it gradually began to be appreciated as the gem it always, as if it was just sitting there waiting for the right generation to find it.
In the process, it became a source of inspiration for many bands and musicians around that time and beyond.
It also started showing up on “best albums of all-time” lists, such as ones put out by Rolling Stone.
I personally don’t care about the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame or who is and isn’t in it, but I find it worth mentioning that The Zombies were inducted into it in 2019.
Known basically for their trio of hit songs and one very belatedly revered album that initially tanked, that must be one heck of an album for them to be lauded at that level, right?
I’m here to say emphatically that yes, it is.
After falling in love with the Transluxe compilation in the 00s, I took the plunge and bought Odyssey and Oracle on CD.
It was everything I hoped for and more.
Simply put, it resonated with me down to the depths of my being in a way I hadn’t experienced with an album in a very long time.
It quickly became one of my favorite albums of all time and it is still in my top 3, if not at the very top.
Seeing it on vinyl at that record store in Edmonton that day took me back to the magical days of my first album purchases as a youth. On the car ride back to the house, I pored over every detail on the front and back cover- the stunning artwork and photo collages, the track listings and credits.
Also present was Al Kooper’s glowing testament to the album’s greatness, included on the back of the original U.S. release:
A few years ago we all fell under the spell of ‘She’s Not There’ and ‘Tell Her No’. Well, they are back again with the same spells and a few new ones. With this album, The Zombies establish themselves alongside the royalty of rock.
The songs are so original in thought – a girl soon to come home to you (from prison), the horror of the First World War, with melodies incorporating well-timed diminished chords leaping through warm melodic tapestries.
The musicianship level set on ‘She’s Not There’ is not betrayed, and The Zombies have indeed benefited from the time since then.
While in London recently, I acquired forty British LPs. Once home, I began to listen to all forty. This record stuck out like a rose in a garden of weeds. In the original British album, The Zombies tell you to remember what Shakespeare said:
“Be not afraid
The Isle is full of noises
Loud and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears: and sometimes voices”
It is for you now to enjoy this experience as I have, and I know once you have, you will continue to play some cuts from this album every day for a long time. The Zombies who are – very much alive.
That sums it up better than I ever could. And yes, I’m still listening, Al.
It’s reasonable to ask why I didn’t just search for the album online if I wanted it that bad.
Sure, it’s not an original pressing, and it’s likely available on a number of websites, as well as just about any other album I could want, but once I go down that rabbit hole, I may not come back out.
And might I add that going the cyber route would greatly diminish the thrill of the hunt and the excitement of an unexpected, wonderful find:
Such as what I experienced in Edmonton.
That leaves one final question:
Once we returned home from our trip and I had a chance to actually play the album, what was it like to finally hear it on vinyl?
As I sat and watched the record spin and gave the music my full attention, everything popped out of the speakers in a way that made it feel as if every instrument, every sound had its own unique space in the mix, and it all came together absolutely perfectly. I connected with the songs in a more visceral way than possibly ever before.
“Hung Up on a Dream” gave me chills.
“I Want Her She Wants Me” nearly brought me to tears.
I was once again caught up in the pervading sense that the entire album feels like it may only exist in a dream-like state.
“Time of the Season” is the final track, and when Rod Argent breaks into that crazy, jazzy organ solo at the end, I found myself hoping against hope that those strains would linger on for just a while longer.
If you have not heard this album in its entirety, I encourage you to just listen in whatever format you have available.
I don’t expect everyone to love it the way I do, but I’m happy just to know someone gave it a chance.
Here is the album on Spotify:
In addition, let me drop this playlist of some of my favorite Zombies’ songs from their earlier years, that I believe captures the energy, creativity, and spirit of the British invasion.
Listening to these songs makes me feel as if I was there, somewhere in a crowded, sweaty basement of some old musty town hall or rugby club:
As a young band captivates its audience and embarks on a musical odyssey that will have its share of ups and downs.
But will ultimately find its voice and reach its destiny.
Thank You For Your Vote!
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The Zombies were once in a movie with Laurence Olivier! Bunny Lake Is Missing (1965) also has Keir Dullea, Carol Lynley, and Noel Coward.
That’s all my Zombies trivia right now.
That brightens my day to know that. I will need to check that out!
Hmmm. I wonder if Antonioni got the idea of casting The Yardbirds for Blow Up after screening Bunny Lake is Missing. Great title. Gotta check this out. Only one year between both films. Apropos of nothing, Sparks is in Rollercoaster.
One more thing- If you want to see a famous, respected musician gush all over The Zombies and name check a ton of deep cuts like the true fangirl that she is, here is The Bangles’ Susanna Hoffs’ speech, inducting The Zombies into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n3aMBu1wbIE
It was meant to be. The series of events that led you to that store and finding the LP very reasonably priced.
I was introduced to The Zombies on a mixtape a girlfriend made me in the mid 90s. She included Beechwood Park and This Could Be Our Year from Odessey and Oracle and Imagine The Swan from around that era. She got them from her dad’s record collection.
If you think the band were overlooked in the US, that’s nothing compared to their home achievements. One lonely top 40 single; She’s Not There, #12. They’re a kind of cult band that are highly regarded by those who know them. Its just that not many do know them.
Great to hear of how you connected with it and what it means to you.
I’m impressed with the choices on that mixtape. Thoughts on what you heard? Did you ever check out the whole album?
This Could Be Our Year stood out for me. I didn’t check out the whole album until much much later. This has been a reminder to listen again as its been a while and it still gives off a warm glow. In the late 90s there was a small second hand CD store near me which specialised in bootleg recordings. No idea where they got them all from. I got a very unofficial looking Zombies sampler in there with a random selection from across their career with alternate takes and edits and also featured some interview excerpts. I liked it but didn’t get round to looking any deeper til streaming came along.
This is a great story, RB. And, yes, there is nothing like finding that elusive song or album in a brick-and-mortar store. And Canada seems to have more than its share. It’s where I found a mid-’70s Ronco compilation with Penny McLean’s “Lady Bump” on it, and by the look on my face, my husband thought I’d won the lottery.
I look forward to listening to more Zombies soon. I’m thinking “Odessey” might have been a play on words and not just an artist’s error, but I have nothing to support that argument.
Thank you, cst. Yes, your story indicates that you get the feeling I was trying to describe. I can’t say I have ever heard of Penny McLean. Listening to the song “Lady Bump” right now. Nice slice of mid 70s disco to start my day. That shriek in the chorus puts a smile on my face.
First of all, Shakespeare used the word “twanging?”
I listened to all of Odessey And Oracle exactly once, and thought I need to really dive into it. Then I promptly forgot to do so, even though I’m reminded every so often by hearing one of their hits or reading pieces like this. I promise, I’m adding it to my playlist now.
The record I’m hoping to find now is a best of Anthony Thistlethwaite called Back To The Land. It has a song featuring Holly Beth Vincent (who I wrote about a couple weeks ago) and former Rolling Stone Mick Taylor. In all the online streaming services, that song isn’t included in the album’s playlist. I don’t know why but it’s on the physical version.