To go into details of all the events surrounding this profound metamorphosis would be a book unto itself. For the sake of brevity, lets just say Richard and Bonita discovered a higher calling and purpose, that had more appeal than the fleeting glimpse of fame and fortune. They were soon married.
Upon joining forces with a new group of like-minded musicians and a new found energy, they began creating music with more focus than ever. Then late one night while interceding and wrestling with spiritual strongholds, a move was felt that shook the heavens, and what would later become known as "Praise-a-funka-punkabilly" was born.
Just about this time, the major record labels, seeing the potential in the Contemporary Christian market, began buying up the mostly independent Christian labels, and shuffling them off to Nashville. "If you can't beat 'em, buy 'em", quipped the rotund bald man with the large cigar.
Undaunted by lack of commercial success, Zamar played to captive audiences at correctional facilities all over Southern California, as well as outdoor civic events and church sponsored concerts. Finally they put together a modest recording studio in East LA, to record their first album.
Unbeknown to our heroes, the release of their self-produced cassette album would be a shot over the bow into the kingdom of darkness that would not be without retaliation. On the night of the debut release concert, somehow the box containing the unsold tapes, along with the receipts for the night was carelessly placed on the roof of one of the cars, and subsequently scattered along a stretch of the Golden State Freeway. Although discouraging, this paled in comparison to what would happen next. Within a matter of weeks their home studio would be broken into and all of their instruments stolen.
These events coupled with other unrelated issues led to the disbanding of Zamar. But when a door closes, there's always a proverbial window open somewhere.
