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HomeMusicZombie’ites: Brains - album review

Zombie’ites: Brains – album review

album review



Zombie’ites Recordings

DL only

Out now

Psychedelic Rock’n’Roll Party bands debut long-player. Hendrix meets New York Dolls via Cream, dub, punk, glam and space-rock. It should be a mess but it works and sounds like a completely natural fusion in pub back-room, festival-field and on your stereo, says Ged Babey.

Yo-oooou aint no friendah mi-yine! Shake-it, shake-it, shake-it dow-wown!

There are two MASSIVE clichés which have to be employed when talking about a band like Zombie’ites.  PLAY LOUD! and SURE TO GREAT LIVE (especially if you are off your face!)

Zombie’ites are a Rock’n’Roll Band. In that mythic, street-fighting, hedonistic Rolling Stones, Guns n’ Roses kind of way. Only on a smaller budget – playing Biker pubs and small festivals like Alices Wicked Tea Party – where they went down a storm with the beautiful freaks and assorted ‘heads apparently.

Picture, if you will, the rebellious spirit of MC5 colliding head-on with the intricate musical tapestry of Cream in a Wonderland of sound. Zombie’ites, with a deft touch akin to alchemy, masterfully conjures this fusion, creating a sound that is rebellious yet intricate, chaotic yet harmonious—a sonic Cheshire Cat leading you through the kaleidoscopic corridors of psychedelia, where the boundaries of musical genres dissolve like an illusion.

Even I thought that was a bit over the top before I heard the album but it’s not.

I’ve known the band members for decades from when they were the core of The Flying Alexanders – Southamptons most dependable punk rock’n’roll b(l)ooze-band – you could always rely on them to be late, pissed and still put on a great performance.

As their guitarist and sideman Perry Flatt only contributed a bit of Mick Jones style backing vocal so I had never heard him sing full-on lead vocals before.  Now he’s front-man and a Zombie’ite, he’s turned into a whole-hog, mother-fugging rock-star squealer – he’s Percy Plant, he’s Axl Rose, his love is like a Ramblin’ Rose, he hollers and gargles and at times even sound like Noddy Holder!  It was a surprise as his speaking voice is more like Dudley Moore.

Loads of reverb and bubble-noises add to the vibe, but he has a great rockin’ voice made for songs which preach revolution (baby) and partying for your rights (maan) to fight.

The space-rock, free-form element of the songs I can help feeling is down to the influence of another local guitar-hero, Radioactive Roy (from Illegal Quartet, the Green Egg, Radioactive Bones) who currently refuses to go-gently defying medical predictions of his demise.

Drummer Pete Hutton played with Roys bands as well as with Perry & (bassist) Colins for many years. A style that is every bit as good as Paul Cook/Jerry Nolan but with an added jazz swing inherited from his dad -an accomplished jazz drummer in his day.

Bass player Colin plays a blinder on Brains – funky and grooving when necessary and solid and subtle, the bedrock of the band with Pete, enabling Perry to blast off into the cosmos with his guitar pyrotechnics.

I won’t do a thorough analysis of the lyrics as they seem to be more Ian Astbury ‘Come on, lil’ devil, be my little angel’ style than Bob Dylan, but the songs still whip up a hurricane of devilish rock’n’roll delights.

This is music for dancing and partying to rather than anything else.  It’ll be loved by rockers and ravers and people who dig Lenny Kravitz and Kasabian as well as those that like Hendrix and Hawkwind.  This ain’t a band for music snobs – but I still love ’em, as they are the coolest rock’n’roll motherfuckers in town.

Perry with his Sylvain cap, Colin with his Police-line-do-not-cross guitar strap and Pete – the last punk standing (and still playing) in the city since 1977 and and a wise old Yoda.

Play Loud!  See ’em Live!  Listen on Spotify.  Zombie’ites Rule!

Zombie’ites Facebook

Zombie’ites Instagram

Next Live appearances are exclusively Southampton, at the All Aboard 2024 and ‘the Triple Birthday Weekender’  if you can offer them gigs elsewhere get in touch. 


all words Ged Babey

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