The Zombies (band) go off the rails after seeing their childhood sweethearts eaten by Yetis on a camping trip in North Wales - the first ever trip to which they were given full organisational responsibilities. Overcome by their grief, the band stop pretending to enjoy eating LSD, and start pretending to enjoy eating different, meaner drugs. Maybe just alcohol... drinking it, that is...
Anyway, the band stop turning up to their day jobs, stop shaving, and begin staying out all night at dank and questionable nightclubs, each of which are named after their owner's favourite wonder of the ancient world. One night (ladies night at Artemis) the Zombies have one too many and get kicked out by impassive, brutish bouncers. Mysterious motives are fed to them by structures in the brain - the only areas not currently made torpid by all the drink - that represent vestiges of our reptilian ancestry. The Zombies break into a church, where they record a prog rock album with use of the dusty church organ over in the corner behind the font.
However, the souls of the Zombies contain little or no real darkness. All outpourings of grief and bitterness, plus convulsions against the harsh reality that they have created for themselves, end up sounding quite like one of their normal, non-tormented albums, only with that church organ making its distinctive noise, and some distorted guitar where creamy inner contentment used to be.
The next day, the Zombies wake up with swollen tongues and vague memories of running through a thick orange fog; nothing about the album they had just recorded under the drunken alias of SRC: the album that Ian Morgan will think is mostly OK in about 40 years time.
PLEASE NOTE: The Zombies have nothing to do with SRC, I just think that the singers have slightly similar voices.