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National Features >
SF Weekly
A blogger steals someone else's life story and calls it her own.
By Ashley Harrell
Westword
How William Orr's quest for better, cheaper gas became a crime.
By Alan Prendergast
Miami New Times
The family of a dead judge blames a creeping fungus in the federal courthouse.
By Tim Elfrink
The Pitch
I worked at Kmart with John McCain's director of strategy.
By Alan Scherstuhl
Taste of Minnesota: The Zombies
Published on July 02, 2008
"Who the hell are the Zombies?" you wonder. "I mean, have I ever heard even one Zombies song?" Time for a brief education: In the 1960s, the Zombies were one of many post-Beatlemania groups attempting to ride the coattails of the so-called British Invasion alongside hopefuls whose impact was at least good for a handful of singles (Herman's Hermits) and others who only collectors remember now (Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Titch). Guided by Colin Blumstone's interior-monologue expressions of melancholy and Rod Argent's depressive melodics, they scored a pair of singles that continue to dominate classic-rock radio to this day: "Tell Her No" and "She's Not There," both from 1965. (Vinyl-bin hound Quentin Tarantino cherry-picked the latter for the soundtrack to 2004's Kill Bill 2.) But 1968's dynamite "Time of the Season" is the Zombies' immortal trump card, a rare display of macho swagger—"What's your name? Who's your daddy? Is he rich like me?"—from an outfit that spent much of its time agonizing over its chick trouble or lack thereof. With Eddie Money. All ages.
Sun., July 6, 7 p.m., 2008