The living’s morbid fascination with all things concerning the end of the world has been immortalized in all forms of art possible. Most prominent, and related to this, is our love of the macabre and twisted versions of the dead: zombies. They have plagued our TV sets, movie theatres, bookstores, and hilariously, for some of us—our wardrobe. There’s even an annual marathon that glorifies this fictitious entity. We humans love us some zombies.
But sonically, how do these abominations contribute? I cannot give you a breakdown of reasons but I call tell you that listening to records written and played specifically for our favorite undead heightens instincts and gives an insurmountable adrenaline rush. With music like this, nothing is calculated; everything is played by gut (pun intended). It’s a great raucous feast of zombie survival that’s nothing short of pleasurable.
While you’re at it, you might as well start playing these tracks to warm you up before you watch George Romero’s groundbreaking Night of the Living Dead or the more recent 21 Days Later by Danny Boyle. Maybe we won’t have a zombie apocalypse anytime soon, but hey, at least we’ll have come prepared.
“The Awakening” by Il Nomine Patris
“They’re coming for you, Barbara.”
“A Broken Portrait” by Arcadia
You know those zombie chases that get us reeling off our seats? Everything would happen so fast; in an instant, the world would turn into Dr. Seuss’s worst nightmare. There’d be blood and guts spilling everywhere, people dropping dead and convulsing until they become monsters—and they’d be coming after you.
“Into Your Ocean” by Imbue No Kudos
Your first instinct would be to run, and then hide. Once you’ve wrapped your head around what’s going on, you’d get your act together because you’d refuse to die. It would devolve to a hunting game, and you wouldn’t want to be the hunted.
“Undefined” by The 21st Fever
In the movies, strangers eventually save each other’s necks during zombie breakouts—just because they were together when it happened. We see it all the time: something that resembles romance or kinship in the midst of surviving. It’s not questionable; there’s a science to it. Some of us will probably want some comfort and company along with plain survival; knowing that, in this scenario, we may become a meal or a new “recruit” for the next undead rampage anytime.
“System Downtime” by Kontra Tiempo
Admit it. There is something suave about the idea of a sleepwalker invasion. Only of course, it’s not them. (Only vampires are licensed to look dashing, as far as literature and film tell us). But you know those movie moments when humans finally break down? “Screw it,” they’d say. “We’re going to kill these sons of bitches!” And then it would all happen in slow motion. Everything poised in dramatic fashion: cocking guns, opening fire, slashing the dead in half with samurai swords. It’s all badass.
“Meg and Tom” by Brickcity
Sometimes, it’s hard to believe that zombies could outwit humans. Imagine if you were running for your life; finding a decrepit building and hiding somewhere you thought was safe. What if they still managed to find you there? You would have nothing to bash their heads in. So you would run some more.
“Comprehension Through Nails” by Ephesus
Imminent death would be an inevitability in that situation. You’d lay all your cards down, hoping to get through the nightmare alive. You would run without cover—until there’s nowhere left to run.
“These Currents Shall Carry Me To The Cities Beneath The Ocean” by April Morning Skies
Cities beneath the ocean: cities of the dead.
“In The Manner Of A Vulture” by Equation Crisis
This music goes with the part when after the seemingly endless sprinting—when almost all of the zombies would have been annihilated. The remaining human survivors would run for one last time towards a sleek super lab haven where scientists have concocted an antivirus in the hopes of salvaging the remaining life on Earth; or better yet, they’d go out on a suicide run to annihilate all the zombies to ashes. Credits roll.
“No Exit” by For You Insidious
This is not an afterthought. There’s nothing more frightening than uncertainty—the fear of the unknown—especially when there’s a premise of hope, only to be crushed later. It is that moment that great horror movies have schooled us to expect; the sinking realization that fear and terror may never end.
Cross-published on Amplify.ph