Despite being restored to singles charts around the world with records of such calibre as ‘Lola‘ and ‘Apeman‘ during 1970, The Kinks album on which they appear, the laboriously titled, occasionally baffling, often brilliant ‘Lola Versus Powerman and The Moneygoround (Part One)’ steadfastly refused to engage with the record buying public – slipping quickly into a commercial abyss that was also home to the two previous two Kinks albums.
Nevertheless, meagre sales did not deter RCA Records making a serious play for The Kinks now their recording contract with Pye Records was at an end (record company deceit a theme of their last album). With the first sound business decision of their career they signed to RCA, Kinks commander-in-chief Ray Davies taking a hands-on, heads-up role in the negotiations – acutely aware how much he and the group as a whole had lost in royalties due to signing on unfavorable terms with Pye when starting out in 1964.
Hence the cynicism running through several tracks on the recent ‘Lola‘ LP – Ray and to a lesser extent lead guitarist and younger brother Dave, not so much settling a score as commenting on a running sore that had aggrieved them through the years when Ray had written for The Kinks the most peerless collection of hit singles any rock band had ever released.
Indeed, the sublime richness of Kinks albums ‘The Kinks Are the Village Green Preservation Society‘ (1968) and ‘Arthur – Or the Decline and Fall of the British Empire‘ (1969) had seen the songwriting stock of Ray Davies rise to such an exalted level hardly anyone else could be mentioned in the same breath. But he and his fellow Kinks (by now consisting of Ray, Dave, drummer Mick Avory, bassist John Dalton and recently recruited keyboard player John Gosling), could only look on enviously as The Beatles, the Rolling Stones and The Who saw their imaginative work rewarded with huge sales – The Kinks returning to their North London stomping ground of Muswell Hill with platitudes but in comparative terms, a pittance.
So, with a new decade barely beginning and fresh start beckoning due to signing for a more supportive label, it could be assumed Ray would have something not only accomplished but accessible up his sleeve – in which case those trying to second guess The Kinks would only be half right.
With the subsequent ‘MUSWELL HILLBILLIES‘ (November 1971) they produced an album of astonishing resonance mixed with great poignancy and comic touches.
It made no concessions, however, to commerciality in dressing a dozen snapshots and dramas from everyday life in a form of North London ‘swamp rock’ – conjuring a notion of how Creedence might have sounded had John Fogerty hailed from Southgate rather than San Francisco Bay.
While the twelve vignettes, each written by Ray, range from neighborhood observations and character sketches through to a ballad of heart-stopping beauty, this strange concoction of folk, jazz, rock and country is perfect for the material (The Kinks augmenting their back-porch sound with a brass section).
On the downside it ensured a hit single was not forthcoming, despite a number of tracks, ‘20th Century Man,’ ‘Acute Schizophrenia Paranoia Blues,’ ‘Alcohol‘ and the title song becoming mainstays of their live performances in the years ahead.
In vying with ‘Village Green‘ and ‘Arthur‘ as the finest LP in their illustrious canon, there is no escaping the fact that ‘Tommy‘ and ‘All Things Must Pass‘ sold more in their first year of release than these three magnificent Kinks albums have in their entire lifespan – but while his lauded contemporaries Townshend and Harrison were absorbing teachings of Indian avatars, Ray appeared more taken with lives being lived within sight of Indian restaurants on the Holloway Road.
Never missing an opportunity to see the humour, irony or even despair in the daily routine of those he saw wandering the streets or frequenting the pubs of Muswell Hill or Archway (the cover shows The Kinks blending seamlessly into the clientele of the Archway Tavern), there is a sense that when Ray speaks for himself on ‘Muswell Hillbillies‘ he is hacked off with the 70s already – and they have only just begun.
Opening track ‘20th Century Man‘ is a case in point. Accompanying himself on acoustic guitar Ray comes across as a Dalston Bob Dylan in spelling out all that is wrong with the times and how they been-a-changing for the worst:
‘This is the age of machinery, a mechanical nightmare/The wonderful world of technology, napalm, hydrogen bombs, biological warfare.’
And that is just for starters. He does not like modern writers (‘give me William Shakespeare,’) modern painters (‘I’ll take Rembrandt, Titian, Da Vinci and Gainsborough‘), despairing to the point of telling his companion, ‘Girl, we gotta get out of here.’ By this point the other Kinks have joined him in a gloriously rocking performance, the contributions of Dave (slide guitar) and Gosling (keyboards, but mainly organ), turning them into a Finsbury Park version of Little Feat.
Not only a brilliant stand-alone track, it also serves as a signpost for things ahead with its references to ‘people dressed in grey‘ and ‘paranoid, schizoid product of the 20th century‘ – the latter a foretaste of what immediately follows.
With more good use of Gosling on piano, the three strong brass section known as the ‘Mike Cotton Sound’ announce their arrival on ‘Acute Schizophrenia Paranoia Blues‘ – the track sounding closer in origin to New Orleans than Stoke Newington.
Anxieties stirred by the modern world are evident from the outset, (‘I’m too terrified to go out of my own front door/They’re demonstrating outside think they’re gonna start the third world war‘) and putting a nice twist on the age-old gag, Ray claims not to be paranoid, it’s just everybody, ‘Well the milkman’s a spy and the grocer keeps on following me/And the woman next door is undercover from the K.G.B‘ is out to get him.
Feeling the world closing in around him, Ray evokes Eddie Cochran, but where his brilliant late-50s hit describes blues of the summertime variety, Davies is stressed by the whole damn shooting match, sounding categorically sure in declaring ‘there ain’t no cure for acute schizophrenia disease.’
Taking a break from struggles faced on a daily basis, escape comes in the form of ‘Holiday‘ – a jaunty piano-based number reminiscent in theme to ‘Picture Book‘ from ‘Village Green.’ The scene, however, has shifted from ‘outside a bed and breakfast in sunny Southend‘ to a hopeful holidaymaker standing on the end of a seaside pier, ‘Lookin’ in the sky for a gap in the clouds/Sometimes I think that sun ain’t never coming out.’
Despite having his back ‘burned rare‘ from lying on the beach and the sea being ‘an open sewer,’ in the great working-class tradition he is determined to enjoy the break no matter what – besides, it is still better than being in that ‘dirty old town‘ where the ‘environmental pressures have got me down.’
If holidays are one preoccupation of the masses then another, losing weight, is addressed on the equally humorous ‘Skin & Bone.’
As The Kinks rock out in the style of the Faces, so unfolds the story of ‘fat, flabby Annie‘, who from weighing sixteen stone goes on a diet that eschews, ‘alcohol and pizzas and pies,’ to the point ‘you can’t see her walk by.’ In the process of Annie becoming reduced to ‘Skin & Bone,’ Ray gives the tale a darkly comic twist as abstinence has left her looking on the point of death. In dieting to the point of starvation she no longer has the appetite for past temptations – unlike the protagonist of ‘Alcohol‘ whose journey is one from eminence to the gutter.
Again using the brass section to superb atmospheric effect, Ray delivers the opening lines of this cautionary tale in the vein of Johnny Cash singing over a solemn ragtime tune:
‘Here’s the story about a sinner, he used to be a winner, who enjoyed a life of prominence and position/But the pressures at the office and his socialite engagements and his selfish wife’s fanatical ambition.’
The lines depict episodes of domestic violence, self-pity and the main character being exploited as he becomes ‘a slave to demon alcohol,’ the song gaining in irony as Kinks shows of the time were reputed to be drink-fueled affairs – although talk of being under the influence could be extended to the end of the decade when Squeeze produced several fine songs similar in theme.
If the man at the centre of ‘Alcohol‘ can be seen to have complicated his life, the exact opposite is being advised in ‘Complicated Life.’ Dave lays down some flashy, country style guitar as Ray opines, ‘Cut out the struggle and strife, it only complicates your life.’ After coming up with a list of tasks he can avoid in order to make the day less arduous, Ray takes a breath and, in a voice, not dissimilar to that of great American actor James Stewart, declares: ‘Gotta stand and face it, life is so complicated.’
If one strand of ‘Muswell Hillbillies‘ is the individual taking a stand against state bureaucracy – heard at its most vociferous in the opening track – then another is the urban renewal taking place in London, bomb sites left over from World War Two being redeveloped in conjunction with the land around them. ‘Where my family lived, the local council obviously thought it was easier to clear the entire area,’ said Ray many years later, ‘There was just one problem. They forgot the people – and that’s the spirit, the memory, that drives ‘Muswell Hillbillies‘.’
Both of these themes, namely dissent and displacement, come to the fore on ‘Here Come the People in Grey‘ the song voiced from the viewpoint of one about to be uprooted – ‘I got a letter this morning with serious news that’s gone and ruined my day/The borough surveyor’s used compulsory purchase to acquire my domain‘.
As if to emphasise the point, on the album inner sleeve The Kinks are pictured at the end of a street earmarked for demolition, red brick dwellings waiting to be flattened irrespective of what the occupants want (‘The people in grey have gone and taken away my right to voice my complaint/Her Majesty’s Government have sent me a form I must complete it today.’)
In this image of London falling so to speak, Dave comes up with some superb guitar lines that reinforce the belief that when it comes to simply serving a song, he’s the best Dave Davies-style guitarist in the business.
Along with holidays and weight loss, drinking tea is another mainstay in the ongoing saga of life, Ray reflecting on its rejuvenating qualities in the tribute to his grandmother that is ‘Have A Cuppa Tea.’ Pitching it somewhere between a music hall number and front room sing-a-long, Ray and Dave, the youngest of seven siblings (the five elder being sisters), grew up amidst loud family gatherings at which gran was a dominant figure (‘Granny’s always ravin’ and rantin’/And she’s always puffin’ and pantin’/And she’s always screaming and shouting/And she’s always brewing up tea‘) – the large Davies clan referenced by another actual relative in ‘Uncle Son‘.
Presented in a wistful evocation, he does not sound too far removed from the main character of the ‘Arthur‘ album, tasteful organ inflections by Gosling giving it the feel of a hymn as Ray in describing his uncle, sings ‘he loved with his heart, he worked with his hands.’ Uncle Son may be a man of simple rules and simple plans but as an honest, working type his nephew believes he won’t be forgotten, ‘when the revolution comes.’
There is, however, little honesty to be found in ‘Holloway Jail‘ the narrator lamenting how his ‘baby’ was led to a life of crime by a villain named Frankie Simes, the consequence being she is now incarcerated in the North London women’s prison of the title. Giving the piece great cinematic detail, (if a film it would be a grainy 50s British drama with Diana Dors in the lead role), Ray once again shows himself master of the character-driven short story while around him The Kinks rise memorably to the occasion – the fusion of guitars, keyboards and taut rhythm section creating an ensemble performance that would not embarrass The Band.
It is tempting to think one of the Davies sisters is at the heart of the simply stunning ‘Oklahoma U.S.A‘ – the central character a young woman who slips into a fantasy world to escape the mundanity of her existence. If four years before Ray had reached songwriting perfection with ‘Waterloo Sunset‘ here was proof his antennae for finding poetic beauty in the landscape of life remained undimmed, but also unequalled.
Emerging from one of the houses awaiting a wrecking ball on the inner sleeve, ‘built for the industrial revolution‘ in starting down the road, her journey is made against the evocative sound of piano, acoustic guitars and accordion. All around might be Muswell Hill, ‘but in her dreams she is far away, in Oklahoma U.S.A‘ living in a world that Shirley Jones and Gordon MacRae, stars of the 1955 big screen musical bearing the same name, also inhabit. The film is referenced again in the simple act of buying a newspaper at the corner shop, Ray then taking the poignancy to heart-stopping levels:
‘She walks to work but she’s still in a daze, she’s Rita Hayworth or Doris Day/And Errol Flynn’s gonna take her away/To Oklahoma U.S.A.’
Davies revealed the origins of this serene piece when he said it rekindled childhood memories in introducing the song at a joyous 2005 solo performance at The Albert Hall (London), his tender rendition moving at least one member of the audience to tears.
Indeed, some years earlier when about to lead The Kinks into the ‘Muswell Hillbilly’ title-track on their ‘To The Bone‘ live album, he talks of his parents moving from inner London to ‘the green fields of Muswell Hill.’ First the Luftwaffe, now the local authority – this lack of respite for the urban masses is captured exquisitely in the chunky country-rock of the album closer.
Speaking perhaps from the perspective of his dad, in verse one goodbyes need saying to family friend Rosie Rooke (who in just two lines we learn has ‘bloodshot alcoholic eyes‘ and a ‘Sunday hat‘), fate decreeing life must start anew in unfamiliar surroundings: ‘They’ll move me up to Muswell Hill tomorrow/Photographs and souvenirs are all I’ve got.’
In the second verse it appears the story has moved on thirty years from 1941, a dissenting present-day voice bemoaning the fact, ‘They’re putting us in identical little boxes, no character, just uniformity.’
But he has news for the planners, the borough bureaucrats, those damned people in grey, as the end will not be justified by the means. With the last (non-chorus) line on the record, ‘They can clear the slums as part of their solution, but they’re never gonna kill my cockney pride,’ comes a final, defiant statement on an album that rallies to the cause of those fed up with being told change will be good, different an improvement.
Which, ironically, could be construed as the thinking behind ‘Muswell Hillbillies‘ and the vision brother Ray had for the album when The Kinks began recording at Morgan Studios, North London (where else?) in August 1971.
‘We’d had a big hit with ‘Lola’ and fought our way back,’ he remarked almost thirty years later, ‘then we made ‘Muswell Hillbillies’ and it kind of set everything back a few years, I suppose. It was the classic thing of not delivering what people think you’re going to deliver. And I was very happy to do that.’
By now you have no doubt guessed where this is heading. Released into a world where their London contemporaries The Who and Rod Stewart were cleaning up with ‘Who’s Next‘ and ‘Every Picture Tells A Story,’ The Kinks produced an album of similar stature only to see it sink without trace – even if fans, critics and the band themselves took great delight from its existence.
‘I love ‘Muswell Hillbillies‘ said Dave in 1998, ‘it really gave us the chance to stretch out. It’s a strange record because it’s so rooted in our London backgrounds but has all the emotional elements and a lot of the instrumentation of American blues. It’s a really interesting mesh of ideas.’
In a rare show of accord with his younger brother, Ray ventured, ‘I think it’s as good a record as The Kinks ever made, I’m very proud of that album.’ As of course he should be, being a work of great vitality, distinction and virtuosity.
In depicting the world of ‘Uncle Son‘ Ray pens the lines, ‘Liberals dream of equal rights/Conservatives live in a world gone by/Socialists preach of a promised land,’ speaking for all those living ordinary lives whether in Archway or Arkansas – describing, perhaps, that element of Muswell Hillbilly in all of us.
THE KINKS – ‘MUSWELL HILLBILLIES‘ (Released November 24 1971);
20th Century Man/Acute Schizophrenia Paranoia Blues/Holiday/Skin & Bone/Alcohol/Complicated Life/Here Come The People In Grey/Have A Cuppa Tea/Holloway Jail/Oklahoma U.S.A./Uncle Son/Muswell Hillbilly;
Personnel: Ray Davies – guitars & vocals; Dave Davies – guitars & vocals; John Dalton – bass; Mick Avory – drums; John Gosling – keyboards. The Mike Cotton Sound: Mike Cotton – trumpet; Alan Holmes – clarinet; John Beecham – trombone, tuba.
Recorded at Morgan Studios London, August – October 1971. Written & Produced by Raymond Douglas Davies.
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NEIL SAMBROOK is the author of ‘MONTY’S DOUBLE‘ – an acclaimed thriller now available in paperback and as an Amazon Kindle book.
Ray Davies genius. Interesting tale of the great man. I missed the chance to see him live at the Hammersmith Palais in the 80’s. I still have my backstage pass…
He had a tempestuous relationship with Chrissie Hynde (and a daughter). They were terrible drunks and would fight and make up, sitting at a bar drinking whiskey, both with black eyes and bloody noses. Hey ho! Jx
Hi Janet – hope you well.
Brother Ray – genius indeed.
For many years Clare and I attended an event called The Kinks Konvention (held in a North London, naturally – The Boston Arms in Tufnell Park), when a group of musicians known as the Kast-Off Kinks (each one having been a ‘Kink’ at some point) would get together in various aggregations to play. It was not unheard of for Ray to appear on occasion and lead the band in a couple of songs.
It was quite something to say the next day ‘I saw Ray Davies in the pub yesterday afternoon’!
His break-up with Chrissie Hynde is documented in a great Kinks track of the mid-80s entitled ‘Summer’s Gone’ – reflecting as it does on the emotional rather than physical aspect, shall we say, of their relationship.
Stay safe old mate.
Neil