Long player: Masterpiece, but by then it didn't matter

In a cheeky but understandable "We meant to do that" moment, the Zombies tried to pass off the misspelling of Odyssey on the cover of 1968 album Odessey And Oracle as something deep and meaningful. In fact, it was the artists' equivalent of a typo, made possible by the unfettered freedom the band had been given to make the album of its dreams.

And what an album the Zombies produced, but not before the group had effectively disbanded.

Years of struggling to regain the attention and sales of their heyday as a key British Invasion act had brought financial and personal tensions to a head before recording was completed.

They eventually delivered a masterpiece, but by then it didn't matter any more.

Typically, critical response to Odessey was positive but sales were not.

New label CBS had only reluctantly released it, not keen to promote a living-dead band. But when slow-burner single Time Of The Season suddenly became a No 1 smash in the US, the clamour for the Zombies to reunite became deafening.

It wasn't to be, at least, not until 1991 saw the first inevitable rose-tinted reunion.

The pleasingly complex collection of psychedelic-pop narratives would not be played live for many years, leaving the album to stand as a reminder of how thick the record-buying public can be.

Listening now to tracks such as Care Of Cell 44, A Rose For Emily, Maybe After He's Gone, Beechwood Park and This Will Be Our Year, the simple pleasures in their careful construction and distinctly British flavour continue to reward.

Voices combine in strong harmonies, segments of song link in unexpected yet oh-so-right ways and every fluffy cloud has a dark, pensive lining. Even the affected, madrigal-like Changes can be appreciated for the confidence in its massed-voice delivery.

Fittingly, Odessey and Oracle possesses a charming, dreamy spirit that couldn't be killed with the demise of its makers.