White Zombie, “It Came From N.Y.C.”

Before they became astro creeps, White Zombie were a horror-influenced no-wave group in the New York underground.
Reviews
White Zombie, “It Came From N.Y.C.”

Before they became astro creeps, White Zombie were a horror-influenced no-wave group in the New York underground.

Words: Kurt Orzeck

June 10, 2016

White Zombie “It Came From NYC”

White ZombieWhite_Zombie-2016-It_Came_From_NYC
It Came From N.Y.C.
NUMERO GROUP
6/10

Let’s face it, most of us are sick of zombies. Between the never-ending (if still great) Walking Dead and its spinoff Fear the Walking Dead, the “real-life” zombie hunts, tired “zombie apocalypse” jokes, zombie cosplay, and the rest of it, what was once an on-again, off-again subcultural fixation is now an inexorable mainstream obsession.

But give credit to Rob Cummings. Born three years before George A. Romero kicked off the zombie craze with Night of the Living Dead, raised by actual carnies, and inspired by Alice Cooper, he has had an unholy devotion to zombies. Fifty-one years later, he still bleeds for them.

Across those years, he worked as a production assistant on Pee-wee’s Playhouse, recorded and toured as a solo musician (which he continues to do), and directed splatter-house movies including House of 1000 Corpses and the Halloween remakes. He also commandeered White Zombie, the heavy metal band behind the hugely popular hit singles “More Human Than Human” and “Thunder Kiss ’65”—which continue to be staples in Zombie’s live performances.

If none of this comes as a surprise to you, then perhaps this will: White Zombie was once an art-school project that slogged it out in the New York City underground and put out a slew of LPs, EPs, and 7s way back in the 1980s.

Now back in print in the form of this box set, those various discs encompass thirty-nine songs by the eternally dreadlocked Zombie; his green-haired one-time-girlfriend, bassist Sean Yseult; and various members noodling around with a band that would later soar to fame courtesy of Beavis and Butt-Head.

Adding to the curiosity, the label issuing It Came From N.Y.C.—which features a cover of Kiss’ “God of Thunder” (!) and some production by Bill Laswell (!!)—is Numero Group, the Chicago imprint best known for unearthing obscure slices of soul, funk, and folk (with a series of Unwound box sets tossed in for good measure).

The label’s beeline toward White Zombie may not be as crooked as it seems, though. As evidenced by the tracks featured here, the group belted out a particularly unique brand of industrial-informed, sample-heavy groove-metal in their early incarnation. To the extent that Numero Group is on an Alan Lomax–like mission to chronicle previously hidden aspects of American culture, there is good debate to be had here. On the one hand, White Zombie has always been a canny, campy band that lacked pretension but also seriousness. On the other, the box set documents how—regardless of a rotating cast of guitarists—Zombie and Yseult had a consistent fascination with fringe horror culture and noise rock, both of which would later proliferate in popularity.

The release of It Came From N.Y.C. is somewhat reminiscent of the reissues of The Flaming Lips’ early psychedelic records. They weren’t as good, but they matter, and it’s worth remembering how a band that later broke big with The Soft Bulletin and Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots started off as scrappy, psych-obsessed scruffians.

The White Zombie experiment here is similar, with the difference being that the now-defunct band’s early material feels perhaps more relevant than ever. With indie-rock embracing noise once again, and kudos going to bands who start on Bandcamp instead of launching on a label, White Zombie’s gritty experimentalism is ripe for the plucking.