THE KINKS LIVE FROM SURVIVAL CENTRAL

THE KINKS LIVE FROM SURVIVAL CENTRAL

by

Michael Davis

photos by

Well, they've survived another one. Another tour. How many does that make? I dunno—forgot to ask 'em that. Enough. Forget the late 60's when they couldn't cross the Atlantic for various obscure reasons. In the 70's, they've criss-crossed these 50 states enough times to get their points across. Sloshing their audiences with beer foam, subjecting them to English absurdities like ducks on the wall, yuks in stalls and bucks over the long haul. Presenting ambitious stage productions on shoestring budgets and having the scenery fall down all around their ears. And always, Ray Davies' clown-like smile, looking around himself with wonder as his contemporaries drop by the wayside, one by one.

Really, the only Kinks' kontemporaries who have survived straight through as groups are The Who and The Rolling Stones. The last word I heard outta Townshend was that The Who weren't gonna play live any more. And of course every Stones tour is the last one or the one to prove that they're still the greatest rock 'n' roll band in the world or something. But the Kinks just trudge on with little hoopla, playing the rock 'n' roll underdog role to the end.

And it's becoming more and more of a role. Their last album, Sleepwalker, damn near went gold and the latest, Misfits, is starting off even hotter, despite the little problem that it's one of their weaker LPs. Add that to the success of different versions of "You Really Got Me" by Van Halen and Robert Palmer and you've got a sob story of rock 'n' roll losers?

Now before I really get going, I should probably mention that my jaded attitude may be influenced somewhat by Arista's generosity. Talking With Ray at the Beverly Hilton, meeting Mick Avory art a backstage buffet and interviewing him and the new bassist Jim Rodford atop the Hyatt House just doesn't leave the impression of desperate struggling and dues-paying. Now, I know that L.A. means rest and recuperation as much or more than it means rock 'n' roll to most touring bands but . . .

Well, picture yourself poolside atop the Hyatt House on Sunset Blvd. The smog is vacationing in Pomona so you've got a beautiful view of the whole L.A. basin. The Kinks' entourage are kicking back, getting tans, and the band members themselves are attended by a couple of bronzed beauties each. A real Surf City scene. And Mick Avory is telling you about the tremendous difficulties the band had a few years ago doing double shows when each show consisted of two sets, one for old favorites and one for whatever "rock play" Ray had devised—Preservation or Soap Opera or Schoolboys In Disgrace. And you believe the guy, but the words just don't fit the picture. Kinda like watching Viva Las Vegas on the tube with the sound off and The Sun Sessions on the stereo. Some images have more staying power than others.

I'm after getting people off their arses who feel they're isolated ... the misfits.

Ironically, the image of the survivor in rock often has less power than the image of the dead hero .The ghosts'of Jimi Hendrix and Jim Morrison are still influential and I don't need to remind you of all the ways Elvis Presley's death was marketed. And as I'm writing this, the Buddy Holly boom is taking off.

That some survivors do make it, though, is quite logical. Relating to people that seem to be like you or what you would like to be like is part of fandom, and worshipping only the dead can be a drag. Besides, statistics show that live people buy more records than dead ones.

Of course, mere survival ain't enough to interest you or me. Most of the members of the other English Invasion groups are still alive but where are Herman's Hermits, The Searchers or the Dave Clark Five today? And ufho gives a shit? Nope, to survive in rock 'n' roll and to be on the upswing again after 15 years, you gotta be somefhing pretty special.

And the Kinks are. The group's determination to go on in the face of changing fortune is self-evident. But there's more to it than that. Their large, fanatical cult following sustained them until a bigger audience rediscovered them. And musically, they draw on enough different sources so that they can accentuate one or more of their styles to match existing trends without losing their identity.

That doesn't mean that their timing has always been perfect. Mick remind-' ed me of "See My Friends," one of their less successful early singles which used Indian scales about a year before it was hip to do so. But they began to incorporate social commentary and music hall elements into their sound at about the same time as the Beatles and the Stones and Arthur, their first conceptual work, came out on the heels of Tommy. Later on, during the glitter era, all Ray had to do was camp up his Mr. Show Biz persona and now, some of the songs on Misfits reflect the social concerns of the new wave.

Ray doesn't quite see it that way, however. When I asked him if the blunt-edged broadsides of some of the new bands had affected tunes like "Get Up" or "Live Life," he responded negatively.

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"Not really," he mused. "I don't want to say that I'm not conscious of what's happening but I'm not conscious of it going into my music so much. Like on 'Live Life,' you've got that direct guitar sound that we've always had and it's something that comes from the band, really.

"I think directness is very important now. I want to make my intentions clear and make a positive statement. But there are also tracks like 'Misfits' which are deliberately vague."

Ray also sees his audience as being older and more settled-in than the kids that the Clash and the Tom Robinson Band are addressing in their music.

"I think it's very easy to get people off their arses when you know they're going to do it anyway," he said. "But I'm after getting people off their arses who feel they're isolated. There are a lot of people who feel they're not part of anything and they can't find contemporaries: the misfits.

"I'm really against complacency as well. 'Get Up' is basically about being complacent and wanting to say something but being frightened to because

there's nobody else around that you can relate to. You never know until you do actually become yourself."

But Davies stops short of suggesting any solutions to specific problems and the mention of his ex-protege, Tom Robinson, brings a furrow to his brow.

"You see," he began, "I write songs. A lot of my political or social commentary songs came from a very serious beginning. But I realize also I'm a songwriter. I can't really say something about a subject that is totally one-sided and totally angry. I look at the absurdity of my argument when it comes down to it.

"I find that with statements I make, I try to make a counterstatement as well. I think that's the only fair thing to do. I think it's exposing yourself too much to be totally one-sided. And the amazing thing is, people do change their opinions."

Okay, but a harangue is still a harangue and "Get Up" and "Live Life" come off too preachy to go down as two of Davies' most memorable songs. But what he says about counterstatement is out in the open 'cause "Live Life," has this line in it that goes, "Act normal, there's nothing wrong," that sure contrasts with the rest of the album's characterizations: the "chick called Dick" in "Out Of The Wardrobe," "the only honky living on an all-black street" in "Black Messiah," and the taxation immigrant in "In A Foreign Land," misfits all. Normal??? Q'est-ce que c'est??

Well, normal or not, many of these tunes sound like pafe remakes of Kinks classics like "Ape Man" or "Acute Schizophrenia Paranoia Blues." But it's kinda hard to tell if it's all the songs' fault because all was not fun and games in the studio when Misfits was being recorded. In addition to having an engineer leave, bassist Andy Pyle and keyboard player John Gosling eventually trundled off to form their own band and three tracks on the album use a different bass/drums combination entirely.

As Mick explained it, "Discontent in the keyboard player and particularly, the bass player, affected our rhythm section. They created a bad atmosphere of total disinterest and it shows in the playing. So if you get someone different in, it gives it a fresher feel.

"I get fed up with doing tracks over and over again. I like doing live things better than recording anyway. We rehearse something and we stick with the arrangement. We work on the sound and do it. That's okay; I can get some satisfaction out of that.

"But if you gotta keep on pluggin' away and you keep altering it with different arrangements and it's the wrong sound, the wrong tempo, or the wrong key and you come back another day and do it again, it takes all the enjoyment out of it for me. Dave likes •die studio* but I can't get into it that much."

As it turns out, one of the tunes that used the alternate rhythm section is the key song (and single) off the album. "A Rock 'N' Roll Fantasy" is one of those charming, self-revealing ballads that Ray comes up with from time to time. It takes the form of a dialogue from Ray to another, unnamed member of the band who is contemplating leaving and goes on to mention their importance in the eyes of their fans.

Ironically, the song wasn't pointed at the' departing Gosling or Pyle. "If anyone, it was directed more at Dave than anyone else," Ray answered: "I knew he wasn't gonna leave the group but I used his personality possibly as a basis.

"What it says in the song is that a lot of musicians, I think, do lose contact with the people that they're supposed to be playing for. They become so wealthy that they can only go places in executive jets. In the end, I think it's damaging to their creativity.

"I have seen that happen in my career and then I've just taken a few days or weeks off and said to myself, 'Remember who you -are.' That's the only way I can relate. That's'the only way I can keep going."

And yes, the Kinks keep going. Both Ray and Mick seem satisfied with the new members of the band—ex Pretty Thing Gordon Edwards on keyboards and ex-Argent bassist Jim Rodford, who continues to play with the Argent spin-off group, Phoenix, as well. I can't tell ya a thing, though, about how they're working out; the sound mix at the Universal Ampitheatre effectively obliterated the keyboards and backup singing the night I saw 'em. But . . .

"The vocal aspect is much improved," Mick told me, " 'cause the strong backing vocals give Ray a bit more confidence to do what he's doing. He wasn't getting this before and that was always a problem.

"Jim we've known for God knows how long, a dozen years or more. A bit of a tiresome little tyke at times," he yukked, "but vye tolerate him. But he understands what's needed in the group and the way it ticks so he should fit in very well. He used to be in Argent which was the same era of group. Before that, he was in the Mike Cotton Sound."

Kinks aficionados will recognize the Mike Cotton sound—that's where the band has gotten their occasional horn men from.

So okay, Jim's the fourth bass player the band has had. Hadn't the drummer thought of splitting?

"Yeah, I've though about it," Mick answered. "You get discontented and unsettled at certain times. I got unsettled about seven years ago. I had to really think about it seriously. When I thought about it, it was just a couple of problems that I could sort out anyway without leaving. So I spoke about it with management and it was a bit of a weight off the mind, really.

"When you've been with a band for a long time . .. like Charlie Watts with the Stones. If he left, what would he do? 'Cause he's been with a known band all that time. He wouldn't really just kick off. To get another position like drummer with the Stones is totally inconceivable. Then what would he leave for anyway? If he was going to leave to do the same sort of thing, he might as well stay.

"It's the same with me. If I left, I'd probably go into something else totally different. I don't think I'd join another band.' Probably retire and get into something else. I'd always play. Then again, I'd probably miss it so much, I'd want to get back into it. I still look forward to it."

But looking back, I asked him, didja ever think in the early years that you'd still be with the Kinks 15 years later?

"No, I didn't really^" Mick stops to think. "Couldn't see that we'd last that long. When I ended up really joining 'em and got to know the potential, I knew it wasn't gonna be a flash in the pan. But in those days, rock 'n' roll hadn't been going 15 years."

So that's the story from Survival Central; the Kinks go on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and ...