The Zeros
Knockin' Me Dead

If they had ever said about the band I played in, that we sounded like the Ramones with a Roman twist, a permanent 72-toothed smile would have been plastered on my face, and I would have puffed out my chest, brimming with pride.

Something similar was said about the Zeros, trivially and superficially dismissed as the Chicana version of the brothers. I don't know how they took it, but they didn't have much in common with the Ramones, apart from playing a punk'n'roll closely related to the rock'n'roll and beat of the Sixties.

In the fateful triennium 1976/1978 they didn't achieve much, just a couple of singles, «Wimp / Don't Push Me Around» and «Beat Your Heart Out / Wild Weekend», but it was enough to attract attention, because the quality of the tracks was stratospheric.

Find all of it (and more) in the excellent compilation «Don't Push Me Around» by Bomp! and here, practically, the story could end...

But then, at the dawn of the Nineties, came the young guns of Green Day and Offspring, who with blows of corporate-(pseudo)-punk conquered the charts; and so, it's understandable that Javier Escovedo and company might start to get annoyed, because, in a small way, they contributed to building that sound, without reaping any benefits, except for the breach carved in my heart and those of a few other thousands of misfits lost in remote corners of the earth.

So, they make the decision: let's reform the band and set things straight.

And rarely has a reunion been more dignified and fruitful than that of the Zeros, if the result is that great piece of vinyl that is «Knockin' Me Dead», fifteen tracks pulled out of the drawer and presented with a grit and passion that feels like turning back twenty years.

What a great record, guys.

Do we want to just rip off the band-aid and not think about it anymore? So be it.

Go listen to «Beat Your Heart Out» (featuring the great Kim Shattuck) and «Outta Place» which evokes the ghost of Joey intent on dedicating «Here Today, Gone Tomorrow» to all the lonely hearts, and yes, these are 24-carat nuggets that would look wonderful in the Ramones' repertoire.

But the rest is all original material from the Zeros, starting with that «Wimp» which breaks barriers everywhere, and which AC/DC built a career on, cheerfully ignoring copyright, because the Youngs still go around saying that they invented that riff, as if ... «Wimp», an incredibly heavy song, an unknown classic of punk, not surprisingly covered by combos like Hoodoo Gurus and Nomads.

The same story, exactly, for two other chilling pieces: the title track, a stunning ballad that is simultaneously a shameless declaration of love for the New York Dolls, rather than the Chicana Ramones; and «Lay Off, She's Mine», which is like «Wimp» freed from any weight to take on the form of a fast-paced street punk’n’roll.

In the wake of «Lay Off», comes everything else, from «Baby's Gotta Have Her Way» to «Shannon Said», up to «She's So Wild».

To end beautifully with two sparkling covers, «Sometimes Good Guys Don't Wear White» by the masters Standells and the indescribable romp of «Ninos», offered in a Latin twist of the Beatles’ «Boys».

In two words, an enjoyably timeless record mixing rock'n'roll, beat, and punk.