Can You Go Home Again?

Seeing shows by three '60s musical legends within four days proved you can't go home again. No matter how hard Love and the Zombies tried, they couldn't surpass what they used to be, and even recreating it was bittersweet. At the same time, Brian Wilson, one of the greatest legends of that storied, easily romanticized period, was surprisingly moving. One reason may be that his show was more about closure and creativity than reliving ancient glories.

On Oct. 11, Love opened for the Zombies at Beachland Ballroom, the predominant rock venue in the Cleveland area. The show drew about 350 people to a space that accommodates about 600, and both bands hawked their wares, just like at arena shows. Love offered T shirts, baseball caps and a new Love EP. The Zombies hawked their new album on Rhino, a highly detailed biography, Colin Blunstone solo albums, and the customary T-shirts. There were plenty of takers.

There were plenty of fans, too, even though many left after Love's opening hour-plus set. Sparked by the energetic Arthur Lee and original Love guitarist John Echols, it was more successful than the Zombies, and not only because the material, both then and now, was more exotic. Lee was in fine voice, and wisely highlighted almost all of "Forever Changes," the 1967 album that many feel is one of the most expressive and original albums of that decade. The highlights were Bryan Maclean's "Old Man," a hard-rocking "Alone Again Or," a pretty "Orange Skies," and a very strong, even funky "Everybody's Gotta Live." Lee never took his shades off and for the most part, kept a baseball cap atop his bald head. He seemed energetic and feisty and eager to replay the '60s, when he and his boys ruled Hollywood and for a brief period competed with the Doors, their Elektra label mates, for sexiest rock band.

Fronted by original throat Colin Blunstone and original keyboardist Rod Argent, propelled by onetime Kinks bassist Jim Rodford, the Zombies delivered more than an hour of pretty good material, particularly tunes from "Odessey & Oracle," the 1969 album that yielded the huge hit, "Time of the Season." Rodford's son, Steve, turned in yeoman drums and Keith Avery played predictable, excessive rock guitar. In addition, Blunstone's voice has lost some of its highs, and Argent, whose eponymous group represented the dumbing down of both the Zombies and of rock 'n' roll, overplayed "Hold Your Head Up," his 1972 Top Five smash.

The band finished its formal set with "She's Not There," a beautiful song that shares a rhythm bed with "Time of the Season." Too bad Avery marred it with a showy solo, robbing it of the grace that made it so haunting. Word is an encore including "Summertime" was fine. I didn't stick around.

Article Author: Carlo Wolff

Carlo Wolff is the author of Cleveland Rock & Roll Memories and a long-time book and music critic. He works full-time as a business writer at Penton Media, specializing in articles about the hotel industry.

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