You Can't Keep A Good Zombie Down
- Josh Kitchen

- 2 days ago
- 11 min read
Colin Blunstone On Sixty Years Of The Zombies
By: Josh Kitchen / October 28, 2025

It’s the time of the season / When love runs high / What’s your name, who’s your daddy? Is he rich like me?
Those lyrics from "Time Of The Season," By The Zombies tickle my brain in a way that so many other songs I love just don’t. You can hear the sultry drums and smooth “aahh’s” sung by lead singer Colin Blunstone, accompanied by Rod Argent’s neon-tinged kaleidoscopic keyboard, Chris White’s jazzy bass, Hugh Grundy’s perfectly timed drumming, and Paul Atkinson’s fuzzy guitar playing.

“Time of the Season” by The Zombies feels like an elemental part of life itself—woven into our collective musical DNA. It’s a song out of time and space, bridging the gap between the mythos of the 1960s counterculture and the musical adventurism launched by The Beatles and Stones during the British Invasion.
But would you be surprised to learn that “Time of the Season” wasn’t even a hit in The Zombies’ home turf of the U.K.? Other classics like “She’s Not There” and “Tell Her No” were chart successes, but “Time of the Season” only found its audience in the United States—and not until after The Zombies had disbanded in 1967.
It’s been a long and winding road for The Zombies. Their seminal album Odessey & Oracle, which features “Time of the Season,” has since become lauded as one of the most influential and greatest albums ever made. The members went on to pursue different careers, but in 1999, lead singer Colin Blunstone and composer Rod Argent reunited and began playing live shows again.
It would take another twenty years before The Zombies truly got their flowers: in 2019, they were finally inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame—a long-overdue recognition that cemented their legacy as one of the great innovators and songsmiths of the 1960s. Sadly, Argent suffered a stroke in 2024, taking the band off the touring circuit.
Yet, in 2025, The Zombies’ legacy shows no sign of slowing down. Rooney frontman Robert Schwartzman directed the official, definitive Zombies documentary Hung Up on a Dream, and this year brought a superb mono remaster of Odessey & Oracle. The album now sounds richer and crisper than ever before—exactly as it was meant to be heard. Songs like “Time of the Season,” “This Will Be Our Year,” and “A Rose for Emily” bloom with multicolored visions of psychedelic nirvana.
The Zombies live up to their name—still roaming the earth, refusing to stop moving through a musical landscape they helped shape. I was lucky enough to chat with Zombies frontman Colin Blunstone about the band’s 60-plus-year legacy and what it means to still sing those timeless songs for new audiences all these years later. We talked about the new remaster, Hung Up on a Dream, and how The Zombies are, somehow, more popular than ever. You really can’t keep a good zombie down.

I have been loving the great new mono remaster of “Odessey and Oracle” for the past couple of weeks now—talk to me about why it was important for you and the band to get out this new mono remaster.

Well, I think in a way, it's partly a celebration of the masters reverting to The Zombies, which is a wonderful thing for our band. This record is now available on Beechwood Park Records, which is The Zombies’ label, and it’s been released worldwide on our label, so there is an element of celebration about it.
But also, when we were talking about it, we realized that this album was originally recorded in mono. It was a time when stereo was just becoming popular, and when the mixed tracks were taken to CBS, they said, “This is fine, it’s great—but we’d like it in stereo too.” We had a very restrictive budget to go back and try to mix it in stereo.
There were various reactions to how successful the two mixes were. I think in many ways the mono mix is superior—you actually miss things on the stereo mix. For instance, horns were added to “This Will Be Our Year,” which, because of the way they were added, couldn’t be included on the stereo mix. So there are one or two things like that.
When I’ve been listening to the stereo mix over the years, I’m sometimes amazed to hear the lead vocal is way over on the far right, and I think, “I’m not sure if that’s a good placing for the lead vocal.” So there was just a feeling that it would be a great idea to go right back to the original tapes, get the mono mixes, and remaster it. I think it sounds sharper, fuller, richer—just better in many ways.
What’s exciting about these kinds of masters—especially a mono remaster—is not only hearing it how you intended it to be heard, but also how immersive it feels. I’m hard of hearing in my left ear, so stereo mixes can sometimes feel unbalanced, but mono feels like you’re really in it.
I know there’s a lot of truth in that. You realize sometimes it’s quite interesting to go back and listen to what we were hearing years ago. In this instance, there’s a lot to be said for the mono mix. I’m sure some people will prefer stereo, but I think I prefer the mono, and I’m just glad that now we do have that option.
Fans of either format will be very happy that they can choose.
Absolutely.

The “Hung Up on a Dream” documentary has been such a smash. It’s been an amazing gift for longtime fans—and new ones—to learn more about your personal life, the band’s story, and your journey. How has it felt to share that side of yourself with the world?
The idea came from director Robert Schwartzman, who approached us about three years ago with the idea of making this film. We got on really well with Robert—he’s not only a great director and actor but also a fine musician, so he was speaking our language.

Our only reservation was whether there was enough film and video of the band from the ’60s to make the project worthwhile, because people didn’t film as much back then. Even when we were on TV, the tapes were often recorded over. But Robert and his team worked miracles—they found video clips I had no idea existed.
When I saw the first edit, it was incredibly emotional—seeing a concentrated version of your life in an hour and a half is quite something. Once I got past that emotion, I was just amazed at the clips they tracked down. I think it’s made for a really worthwhile documentary, and for many people, it’s the first time they’ve heard the members of The Zombies talk about their lives, how the band came together, and how it ended.
Rod [Argent] and I started what we call the second incarnation of the band in 1999—though we didn’t call it The Zombies at first. When we started, we played very few Zombies songs because we thought people had forgotten us. But audiences kept asking for more, until eventually we were playing full Zombies sets. We approached Chris White, Hugh Grundy, and Paul Atkinson’s widow, Helen, and said, “How would you feel if we called this band The Zombies?” They agreed, and that’s what happened.
From there, with the legacy of “Odessey and Oracle” and the original singles, and with the touring band, we somehow ended up being inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2019.
It’s been a wonderful adventure—sometimes bumpy, but wonderful.
You’ve been quoted as saying, “I’ve always wondered if The Zombies were lucky or unlucky because we were around at the right time.”
Yes, I think what I said was that we were lucky because we were around at the right time. The Beatles were so phenomenally successful—they opened the door for all other British bands, particularly in America, but also around the world. Before The Beatles, there wasn’t much interest in British contemporary music.
And that’s life—you hear the youth and growth in the music. I assume you can hear it more than anyone.

I certainly can. I know from the decisions we made that we were very young. I can hear it in my vocals. There’s a joyous energy and naivety in the performances, but sometimes that naivety worries me. I used to think that if you believe in what you’re doing and put your full focus and energy into it, it can’t be wrong—and that’s a wonderful way to think. But as a vocalist, I now know there are parameters you have to live within, especially with phrasing. I think my intonation was pretty good as a young man, but my phrasing was very naive at times. When I listen to some of the records, it makes my eyes water a little bit.
I wanted to ask about the physicality of your voice. It still sounds great today. What do you attribute that to?
Thank you very much. I think some of it is luck—the voice you’re born with—but otherwise, it’s common sense. As you get older, you have to protect your voice: don’t talk too much, keep hydrated, eat sensibly, and get plenty of sleep—all the things we didn’t do as teenagers!
When I was about 50, I started working with a singing coach named Ian Adam, who taught a lot of West End performers. He never tried to change your voice, just make it stronger and more accurate. He gave me a set of exercises I still do twice a day—before soundcheck and before the show. Each session is about 30 minutes, so before anyone sees a performance, I’ve already sung for an hour. It’s vital. I’ve heard singers come off stage and say, “Once my voice warmed up after the fifth song, it was great.” And I think, “Why didn’t you warm up before the show?” So yes—hydration, rest, and daily exercises. That’s the secret.
Speaking of career milestones—as you said, The Zombies were finally inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 2019. When did it start feeling like that might happen?
To be honest, when Rod and I got back together in 1999, I didn’t think anybody remembered The Zombies. The Hall of Fame was a wonderful surprise. We were nominated several times before finally being inducted. It’s incredibly exciting and validating. It doesn’t mean that artists who aren’t in the Hall are lesser, but it does mean your fan base supported you—over 300,000 people voted for us—and your peers recognized your work. The original Zombies ended because we felt unsuccessful, which was devastating. To be acknowledged decades later—it’s just incredible. It makes you realize that what you were doing had value.

You could tell during the induction how honored you all were.
Oh, we were thrilled. And here’s a funny thing—we were sitting next to Janet Jackson and her entourage at our table, and my wife told me afterward that they were all on their feet singing and clapping along during our performance. I didn’t see it myself on stage, but it was overwhelming. The whole night was brilliant. It’s funny—media and record companies try to categorize music, but backstage, musicians all speak the same language. We’ve shared bills with really heavy rock bands, and they’re always lovely. They look tough, but backstage they just want to talk shop and share stories. I’ve always found it wonderful.
Even Ozzy Osbourne always said The Beatles were his biggest influence. You can hear it in his melodies.
I couldn’t imagine anyone not liking The Beatles. They’re a band apart. I was once asked “Beatles or Stones?” and I said, “Oh, Beatles!” Maybe a bit too enthusiastically. Both are incredible, of course—but The Beatles changed everything. They showed musicians that they could write their own songs. Before them, most artists thought they needed outside songwriters. That changed music forever. Paul [McCartney] is still an extraordinary musician and human being. The energy and commitment he still has—it’s extraordinary. Long may it last.
Before we even mentioned The Beatles, I had written down the word “elemental,” because I think “Time of the Season” is just that—it feels part of our cultural DNA. For people born after 1970, it's a song that feels like it’s in your blood, like it's always been there. What does that mean to you?
I agree with you. Strangely enough, I live in probably the one country where “Time of the Season” wasn’t a hit. It’s been released four or five times in the UK and never charted!
In America, though, I can tell from people’s reactions how special it is. In the UK, it became familiar later through films and commercials. So people know it, but it doesn’t carry that same cultural weight as it does in the U.S. Still, it’s incredible—it’s a song that’ll be around for many years to come.
It still sounds so fresh—like it could’ve been recorded yesterday.
It’s true of some of The Zombies’ songs—they sound as fresh and relevant now as when they were recorded. I don’t know what we did, but I wish I could bottle it. “She’s Not There” is probably our best-known song here. “Tell Her No” was a smaller hit—it just crept into the top 30. “Odessey and Oracle” has only been rediscovered in the past 20–30 years. It was pretty much ignored when it came out. Now, we’re probably better known than we were in the ’60s.
I love when your songs pop up in film and TV—“Time Of The Season” in The Simpsons or The Conjuring. I especially love “The Way I Feel Inside” in Wes Anderson's The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou.
Yes, that song has been used quite a bit. I remember a British TV series called This Is Going to Hurt used it during an incredibly emotional scene—it took me completely by surprise. The Zombies have done really well in film and commercials.
It must be interesting hearing your songs in new contexts you never expected.
Yes, and usually it works well. I don’t think musicians used to be as keen to get songs into films or ads, but now it’s an important income stream. Records don’t sell like they used to. Most musicians have to piece together income—writing, touring, licensing songs—that’s how you survive.
There’s a difference between compromising your art and having to make a living.
Absolutely. You’ve got to survive. That’s one of the main reasons The Zombies ended. Our last meeting, Paul Atkinson came in and said, “Guys, I’ve just gotten married, and I’ve got no money.” With us, the songwriters—Rod and Chris—were doing better financially because the publishing income went directly to them, but the rest of us weren’t seeing much. Paul had been offered a job in computing—this was when computers were just emerging—and he couldn’t turn it down. That was really the beginning of the end.
I remember driving home from that meeting, about 22 years old, thinking, “What am I going to do with the rest of my life?” It was quite scary. I thought the band would last three or four years at most, but I hadn’t planned for what came next. That was a lonely drive home.
That’s the beautiful thing—you really did come back to life. THE ZOMBIES as a band name couldn’t have been more fitting.
I’ve never thought of it like that, but yes—it is appropriate! We all struggled through and came back to music. Rod and Chris had success as producers and writers, Paul became a successful record executive—he even signed ABBA—and Hugh Grundy worked with CBS. You can’t keep a good Zombie down.
What would you tell the Colin Blunstone of 1968 when “Odessey and Oracle” came out?
I didn’t know it then, but I know it now—a life in music can be a lifetime career. If I’d known that, I would have been more focused, asked more questions, learned more about the business, recording, and songwriting.
I’d tell myself: this is your lifetime career. You’re blessed—appreciate it and make the most of it.




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