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THE BEAT GOES ON

The year is 1969, and somewhere in the heart of America the Archies and Zombies — two groups known to everyone — are triumphantly touring and making loads of money. The Archies? Well, we know they never existed, but for a time we were caught with our pants down by the Zombies, who had supposedly broken up back in 1968.

August 1, 1973
David Rensin

The CREEM Archive presents the magazine as originally created. Digital text has been scanned from its original print format and may contain formatting quirks and inconsistencies.

THE BEAT GOES ON

Colin Blunstone Bock From The Dead

The year is 1969, and somewhere in the heart of America the Archies and Zombies — two groups known to everyone — are triumphantly touring and making loads of money.

The Archies? Well, we know they never existed, but for a time we were caught with our pants down by the Zombies, who had supposedly broken up back in 1968.

The explanation. Seems some unscrupulous Michigan promoter put together a band, called it the Zombies and sent them on the road to cash in on the success of “Time Of The Season,” while Rod Argent, a former Zombie himself, was losing gobs of cash on his first American tour with Argent. The funny thing about the psuedo-Zombies was the Conspicuous absence of their featheryvoiced lead singer, Colin Blunstone.

“He died in a car crash, you know,” sighed the promoter in print, “but the boys just couldn’t bear to see the band go under and .. ..well... you know the rest.’*

Chris White, another ex-Zombie was in New York at the time this sham was being perpetrated and tried to put a stop to it. Meanwhile back in London, Blunstone, working as an insurance clerk, clipped the story of his untimely demise from the paper and put it in his guitar case where it remains to this day.

Blunstone doesn’t mind talking about his death:. “It’s funny,” he says. “It was the rumor that started ;me writing songs again. I mean," it felt absolutely weird, dying, but I didn’t make an effort to clear up the situation because F thought it was sort of groovy.” .

Blunstone’s death preceeded McCartney’s by almost a year; but his resurrection jagged somewhat behind ||| which, as" you may have guessed by now, is the point of the whole thing! With two fine albums, One Year and Enismore, arid a third in the works, Blunstone is making his gracefully ethereal voice known again.

Folks like to speak of Blunstone in terms of a rise and fall and rise, and perhaps in some strange way it cpuld be analogized as such. Actually, he began with the Zombies while still in school, and after switching,from rhythm guitar to lead vocals, fronted the band through three smash singles (“Tell Her No” “She’s Not There” “Time Of The Season”) during the late stages of the British Invasion. The final single was released after the Zombies had disbanded and gone their seperate ways, but jt proved to be their biggest seller.

, In the interim, Blunstone ventured into the studio occasionally and finally redid “She’s Not There” under the name of Neil Mac Arthur. The record made the charts in England, Holland and Belgium, but after doing a few T.V. shows as Mac Arthur, he dropped the name in favor of pursuing a solo career of his own.

One Year, his first disc, was critically acclaimed across the country and was noted for its pleasing orchestration complimented by Blunstone’s linear vocals. “I was trying to be as different as possible from other albums being released then,” he recalls, citing the string arrangements as perhaps the most innovative accomplishment on the album. Enismore was a taste more down to earth and lacked the slushy sound — ostensibly so he could play the material on the road — yet it contained a number of tunes penned by Blunstone himself, who to this point had relied on outside material. Notably, both albums were produced by his ex-groupmates, Rod Argent and Chris White.

Because of his musical heritage, Blunstone is often besieged with inquiries as to the possibility of a Zombies reunion, and unlike most of his peers from legendary groups, he doesn’t mind a bit of reminiscing. |ij think more people are interested in the Zombies now than in 1968. There was a total lack of concern then, but it still was an important part of my life that I just can’t forget.” He admits, though, to not really liking anything the Zombies did until they released the “Oddessy arid Oracle” album. “The material is too dated,” he claims. “But I think the success of Argent and myself has restimulated interest in the group. I don’t know if we’ll ever play together again,” he concedes, returning to the original question, “because Argent is the type of fellow who concentrates totally on what he’s doing, and now he’s involved in his own band. There was a time when I wouldn’t have even considered the possibility, but Argent has really mellowed out some since then and anything could happen.”

Blunstone has sung with Argent once since the Zombie’s demise — at Argent’s wedding. “We did “She’s Not There” and “Summertime” and it was quite a bit of fun. Argent, (he doesn’t call him. Rod) used to be the lead singer before me, you know.” The two were also approached to sing “Time Of The Season” on a T.V. show they were doing together in Holland, but their respective managements wouldn’t hear of it and an historic moment bit the dust. “I like the idea of getting together, singing and having fun with Argent and the guys, but the other three members haven’t played regularly in years, so anything we’d do would be necessarily loose. It would be either nice or terrible, you know?”

Now on the road with a new band, playing mostly material from Enismore, Blunstone seems to be drawing a combination of easy listening fans and old Zombie freaks to his gigs. Invariably they call for all the old tunes and he obliges with an extended, but wellthought-out version of “Time Of The Season.”

The minute the Zombies turned professional, they scored with their first big AM hit. Blunstone still has to overwhelm the general public here with a chart topper, but he claims he would rather work his way up slowly than have a repeat of the Zombies fate, where every single was greeted less and less enthusiastically until finally the band broke up. “It’s a lot more healthy this way.”

David Rensin

In Crowd Loses Biggest Fan

A few years back, when Dobie Gray was still doing his sleazo MOR lounge act, a Vegas fan yelled a request for “In Crowd,” Dobie’s 1965 smasheroo; and ol’ Dobie found he couldn’t remember the fucker. While laming through a few choruses, he flashed that living in the past was probably not the only answer to Life’s Great Mystery, and split the gig. Not for home (Texas, in his case: Texas, says Dobie, has limited possibilities), but for L. A., and despite “this singer thinks he can act” static, did three plays and two years in Hair. He kept his rock and roll hand in, though, by singing for The Byrds (both live and on Untitled) and for now-defunct Pollution, they of the great tiny-chickenin-gas-mask album cover. In late 1971 he cut the vocal on a demo for Mentor Williams; Mentor dug it vastly, and decided to secure Dobie a solo shot.

That led to a trip to Nashville, the fruits of which labor are out now on Decca, entitled Drift A way. And a tasty piece of work it is, too — Nashville cats picking away over a vaguely Motown backbeat. Dobie’s tubes are in good shape: he’s a little reminiscent of Clarence Carter. In any case, it’s nothing to do with the “In Crowd” and its attendant bad trips.

How does the dude in question feel about it? “I’ve always wanted to sing country, but I had no idea that it would come down this magically — no hassles, no bummers. It’s easy working with people who really care about you. What I learned is that, as Rick Nelson says, ‘You can’t please everyone, so ...’ ” He and Mentor are planning a summer torir. Meanwhile, catch the single on the radio (you can’t very well avoid it) and Drift Away in the stores. It’s nice to see someone grow old gracefully.

Gerrit Graham

Ludes Lose Out

Having been the first to report on the sopor phenomenon, we could probably feel safe in saying that we knew it would happen. But it’s just the facts, m’am, and these is them:

Effective April 25, 1973, Methaqualone is now covered by Michigan’s Controlled Substances Act. The resolution was passed under emergency procedures, and was approved by the Attorney General and the Governor. Here’s what it means:

1. Unlawful sale is a felony punishable by imprisonment for not more than 7 years or a fine not more than $5,000 or both.

2. Unlawful possession is a felony punishable by imprisonment for not more than 2 years or a fine of not more than $2,000 or both.

3. Unlawful use is a misdemeanor punishable by imprisonment for not more than 1 year in the county jail or by a fine of not more than $1,000 or both.

And that’s only the beginning. As we go to press, several states are contemplating similar actions, and a legislative movement is afoot to apply amphetaminelike controls to the various Methaqualones. Another Death Drug bites the dust.

Losers Live Longer

Say you’re a nonentity and nobody pays no attention to you? You never won, a contest, or even Friday nite bingo? Well don’t fret — maybe that means yer one of the chosen and Ye gonna live long and die happy. Mrs. Maud Walker of Sydney, Australia was presumably happy "as a lark, but she kicked it anyway recently, right in front of TV cameras after being told that she’d won her round in a game show.

She was a contestant on the program Temptation, being filmed at a local studio before an audience. Soon as they told her she’d hit the jackpot she keeled right into the big casino. A station exec said the film wouldn’t be shown, but “when the relatives recover from shock, we may offer them the film of the program. I’m sure they’d like to see how happy she was.” \

You Bet Your Life

Death Rock

The same record kept playing for hours over KYXI Radio, Oregon City, Ore., and the station’s phone didn’t answer so the cops broke in and found the deejay dead. They said he’d apparently hanged himself with a telephone cord.

The endlessly spinning platter was titled “Softly As I Leave You.”

Rocky Hill: Next Texas Tornado?

Texas history features gallant Mexi-. can massacres, Democratic politicians of varying degrees of corruption, famous football teams and the petroleum industry. But Texas’ richest cultural heritage is world famous blues guitarists like Blind Lemon Jefferson, T-Bone Walker, Lowell Fulson, Lightning Hopkins, Jimmy Reed, Freddy King and Johnny Winter. To that list kindly add Rocky Hill, a 26 year old lad whose expertise qualifies him for the list.

Lone Star rock weirdos remember Rocky as leader of the American Blues a few years back, then later as bassman for Lightning in 1971. The American Blues earned a local following with two records on the Karma and Uni labels. Perhaps you remember the band with the blue hair? Publicity created by their manager. It attracted a fair amount of attention but greater measures of scorn; imagine yourself sporting long, blue hair on the streets of Dallas in 1967. Rocky survived, as did brother Dusty who now fondles bass for ZZ Top.

Since 1971 Rocky fronted a series of groups playing in Dallas, Houston and Austin. The year with Hopkins further strengthened his awesome knowledge of the blues. Kevin Eggers soon heard of his prowess and consequently signed him to Poppy Records.

Rocky’s first record was a reality without delay. It was cut and mixed in Nashville’s Jack Clement studios. Several touches were addea in Muscle Shoals. Kevin, Rock and engineer Garth Fundis emerged with a debut album to shake thfc butt, jar the mind and turn on the adrenalin.

Rocky penned half the songs which combined with classics (“Fool For You” and “Farther On Up the Road”) and unheralded gems like Louis Jordan’s “Saturday Night Fish Fry” and Willie Brown’s “Mississippi Delta Blues.” Solid rock, soul and blues bases are touched, with echoes of Skip James, Willie McTell and Jimi Hendrix in a guitar style that could only belong to Rocky Hill. “Mississippi Delta Blues” is the acoustic number — a nugget enhanced by Johnny Winter’s mandolin.

The two have been pals for years but many moons had passed since they had traded licks. The duo recorded in midMarch, laying down acoustic tracks for their next records. Johnny has a new National dobro, a mandolin was obtained and Travis Rivers came by with an altered Gibson twelve string.

The contrast between Rocky and Johnny is striking. The former is built like a middle guard with about 230 pounds packed solidly on a muscular deep-chested frame. His fingers are short and stubby in stark relief to Johnny’s tapered, graceful surgeon’s digits. Regardless of anatomy, the fingers of both can fly, particularly on the old blues tunes Rocky carries around on cassette tapes.

CONTINUED ON PAGE 75.

CONTINUED FROM PAGE 22.

Sometime around January, Kevin sent the rough mix of Rocky’s album to Giorgio Gomelsky. Mr. G. was a rapt listener; now there is a strong possibility he will produce the next disc. Gomelsky has at one time or another been associated with Jeff Beck, Eric Clapton, Jimmy Page, Graham Nash, Brian Auger and Julie Driscoll. He is also credited with the formation of Cream as well as with production for the Yardbirds. It is said he wants to bring I^ocky to England, put a band together and do the summer festival circuit. But what the future may hold is of secondary interest. The most important thing is that Rocky Hill has arrived. John Lomax ^