The Birmingham Press

Zombified

Dave Woodhall watches one of the most influential British bands of all time.

It’s almost 50 years since the British Invasion helped save American youth from the twin evils of saccharin-infused pretty boy pop stars and post-army Elvis. During those

Colin Blunstone

intervening decades some of the successful Invaders have fallen by the wayside while others emerge from tax havens every few years to plug in the cash register and embark on another corporate sponsored tour of global sports stadia. Many, though, have found a niche in the nostalgia circuit, giving appreciative audiences an act that has been honed to perfection over thousands of performances. Some are unashamedly rooted in cabaret, others still play every night as though they’re just starting out and they’ve been told the man from EMI is in the audience.

Colin Blunstone and Rod Argent, definitely in the latter camp, began as members of the Zombies. Reasonably successful back in the day, the band are now seen as one of the most influential of their ilk, their music having been covered by such diverse bands as Foo Fighters, Belle & Sebastian and, of course, Santana’s 1977 reworking of She’s Not There. It’s no wonder that although the duo began performing as a double act when they got back together on 2001, they soon started playing under the name of the band where they first found fame.

Tonight, as ever, the material comes from all aspects of the pair’s musical history. The Zombies have a new album, Breath Out, Breathe In, which is heavily plugged, but there’s also songs from Blunstone’s solo work, his time with the Alan Parsons Project and keyboard virtuoso Argent’s eponymous seventies chart-toppers.  All are performed with the ease that comes from years of practice, Blunstone shining throughout. Never a great showman, I doubt he’s ever called anywhere the rockn’roll capital of the world, but the voice is as pure and understatedly magnificent as ever.

There’s a technical problem midway which allows guitarist Tom Toomey to perform a snatch of an acoustic Classical Gas and provides the first highlight of the evening. Another comes at the end of a mini-selection of songs from the band’s seminal Odyssey and Oracle album, ignored on its 1968 emergence and now a regular in the ‘100 Greatest…’ lists. Time of the Season, like the album on which it features, wasn’t so much released as escaped while no-one was looking. More than a year later it reached no 3 on the Billboard charts and I hope the writers have been amply rewarded for its regular use in adverts and soundtracks ever since. Tonight it could have closed the set; such was the power of the band’s performance and the audience reaction.

It didn’t, and they continued to work their way through songs which should have sold many more copies than they did. But if that had been the case it’s unlikely they would now be played at the Robin. If I’ve had a minor criticism about the band’s performances over the years I’ve seen them it was that they tended to feature identical running orders and lengthy monologues between songs. The talking’s still there but Rod now seems to be doing more of it, with a different perspective on how the band’s career has evolved. I wish they wouldn’t give lists of what’s coming next, though.  There should be some element of surprise.

But that brief moan aside, the show’s climax didn’t need trailing. You know you’re going to get Argent’s pomp-glam extravaganza Hold Your Head Up in all its eight and a bit minute sing-along glory. This is a Big Anthem, and that he handles it as well as the ballads is another feather in the cap of Colin Blunstone. You know the set closer will be one hit the band has always been associated with, She’s Not There.

The encore comes without leaving the stage courtesy of Argent’s other big ‘un, God Gave Rock’nRoll, although there’s a  break with tradition when rather than the customary rendition of Summertime, the night ends with Just Out of Reach, a 1965 single which again barely troubled the scorers.

This minor surprise apart, there was little in the way of innovation about the night and that’s just the way the audience wants it. Songs from the new album sit alongside those from 45 years ago. The Zombies don’t need to be innovative anymore; let the new generations create something to be copied. This lot did it all a long time ago.

 

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