Ray Davies Live 2012: The Canterbury Tale

Canterbury and Croydon shows are missing from this flyer

So, for those unable to make it to a solo Ray show, here’s one he made earlier. Spoiler alert for those yet to attend one. I went to four (which I thought excessive until I met fans who were doing many more). They were all similar and all different, the shows not the fans – no, actually both were.

The duo Dead Flamingoes (James Walbourne and Kami Thompson) open most nights. James Walbourne is in the Pretenders line-up, with Ray’s ex, Chrissie Hynde so perhaps that’s how they connected.

I’m not sure that this name is right for them. It makes them sound more like a comedy double act than anything with serious intent. I wonder if it were adopted as a joke. I suppose Dying Flamingoes would be worse. It certainly doesn’t do their country-style songs, lovely harmonies, passionate and intricate guitar work justice. I particularly like the song they tend to start with, ‘Bonnie Portmore’; it reminds me of early Fleet Foxes. Having listened to some tracks on the net, I can report that the DFs sound better live: louder, more committed.

James Walbourne wrestles his guitar, with a pained expression, for all the world as if it’s a recalcitrant cat which has decided it no longer wants to be picked up and is doing everything it can, including scratching, to escape his arms. It takes all his effort to contain it. But he sure can play that cat.

At Nottingham, he appeared alone. I was disappointed that he didn’t introduce himself as ‘a Dead Flamingo’.

This review will be too long if I include all the shows we saw so I’ll start with the first one we went to, also the first of the tour, and see how I go.

Ray Davies and Band at the Marlowe Theatre, Canterbury 30 September 2012

Here (and later at the Royal Albert Hall), there were some slow handclaps when Ray failed to materialise exactly on schedule, a few more elderly audience members possibly being better accustomed to the rigid timetabling of the residential care home than the vagaries and unpredictability of a rock concert. No, seriously, they weren't that old, just a bit impatient.

Ray’s entrance follows a particularly annoying piece of frantic music with revved-up trumpet blasts on the otherwise dreary warm-up tape (which actually makes me want to blow my brains out on fifth hearing at Canterbury, and so enter the territory of a Kami Thompson song about suicide, ‘Hold Your Fire’).

After the applause has died down, he says ‘That’s alright for Bill but what about me?’, initiating a second burst.

The shows follow a standard format, with variations on a theme, according to audience input and how Ray’s feeling. Usually Ray performs some songs unplugged, with Bill Shanley before the rest of the band make their appearance.

Nobody dances or even gets up and I start to feel like a volatile patient in a hospital ward, strapped to the bed, who keeps trying to rise, except the restraints are regrettably self-imposed. Why do I do this to myself?

By the second show, I’m able to recognise most songs by Ray’s introductions.

Ray starts with:

This Is Where I Belong (The line ‘Tell me now if you want me here to stay’ warrants crowd confirmation, but at many of these shows, this is only realised by the front two rows so that intimate connection isn’t made. It's a beautiful song, sensitively performed.)

Audience participation is de rigueur on the choruses of the next two numbers, reconfigured as vaudeville turns here:
Autumn Almanac (‘Roast beef on Sundays/Alright’ usually accompanied by a line such as ‘I take it you’re all meat eaters then?’, the response in Croydon prompting him to alter it to ‘Nut roast on Sundays’)

Dedicated Follower of Fashion (Introduced as an old English folk song, occasionally sung in the style of Johnny Cash, along with the reminder that ‘That’s dedicated, not medicated’.)

Admittedly, some Kinks songs Ray always treated as singalongs – see these 1973 performances of ‘Dedicated’ and ‘Lola' – and the audience was often slow to pull its weight. I really don’t mind it on the choruses but sometimes, given a little encouragement, it gets out of hand and you can imagine yourself at some kind of old-style Cockney ‘knees-up’. Plus Ray’s in fine voice and I would rather hear him.

In a Moment (Introduced as a new song for all the insomniacs out there and I say again, 2007 is not new, honey, when you have an album in the pipeline, still lovely though. Ray mentions that the album, Working Man’s Café, was recorded in Nashville. I wish he would play more of his solo material live – The Real World, Vietnam Cowboys, so many of these songs deserve attention. Dave mixes it up more at his Satsang shows but then he’s assured of a receptive group of people who don't only know the Kinks 60s and 70s hits – I’m afraid that Ray has made the right assessment of the majority of the people here tonight.)

See My Friends (Ray’s ‘gay’ song. Still defeats me as to why when he’s written many ‘gayer’ ones.)

The Kinks as the audience remembers them

Sunny Afternoon (Ray claims he wrote this as a joke. Cue more singalong and Ray gets to say the line that he’s been using since the early 70s, ‘If you don't know it, learn it’.)

Dead End Street (The band come on and join in during this and sound pretty excellent and things start to get rowdy for the next three songs.)

Time to introduce the band who are absolutely excellent. Both Dave and Ray are adept at choosing people to accompany them. We have Bill Shanley on lead guitar, former Kink Ian Gibbons on keyboards (and accordion), Richard Nolan on bass and
Damon Wilson on drums.

Till the End of the Day (Still sounds so vital.)

Where Have All the Good Times Gone? (A crowd pleaser whether with Dave, Ray or the Kast-offs.)

I'm Not Like Everybody Else (Expected more reaction from the crowd but this song doesn’t have the same resonance with UK audiences as it does in the US where it was featured in The Sopranos and found a new lease of life live.)

Waterloo Sunset at Marlowe Theatre

Waterloo Sunset (A request from the stands that Ray immediately obliges unlike any of mine.) (Describing this as a secret song that he didn’t want to share, it doesn’t seem to matter where he plays it, in front of how many people, the Olympics closing ceremony, for instance, it always retains a certain atmosphere of intimacy. Invoking us to do the ‘shalalas’ makes us feel part of something great, this triumphant paean to London. He usually follows the lines ‘As long as they gaze on Waterloo sunset/They are in paradise’ with ‘And so am I’ and somehow manages to sound completely sincere each time and his voice is perfect, delicate, evocative.)

Lola era Ray

Too Much on My Mind (On a par with Dave’s version at Satsang.)

Mentions his See My Friends collaboration, ‘managing other people’s egos’, etc. when introducing the next song and meeting a pretty blonde in cowboy boots, Lucinda Williams, who chose to cover it.

A Long Way from Home (points out that this was directed at Dave, a way of saying ‘Why don’t you just fuck off?’ at which point I call out ‘He loves you too’ but he doesn’t hear me – probably just as well. The lyrics and melody capture Ray’s wistful regret.)

Lola (Bill Shanley reproduces Dave’s guitar riff. The crowd oblige with backing vocals.)

It would be impossible to reflect the sheer diversity of the Kinks output in one show plus we would need more instruments so Ray chooses to showcase a couple of albums here: Muswell Hillbillies and Sleepwalker. These slightly lesser-known songs are a little taster of what’s out there. He could choose two different albums each night and I would still want more.

So James Walbourne (also from Muswell Hill, accompanies Ray for:

Muswell Hillbilly

and

Oklahoma USA at Marlowe Theatre

Oklahoma USA (Great to hear both of these, one jaunty, Ray’s voice way more tuneful than it is on the rather flat, whiny LP version, the guitars ramping it up into a good ole country romp, the other a beautifully plangent ballad about how going to ‘the pictures’ allowed Ray’s sister Rose to escape the drudgery of factory life. Music helped the Davies boys evade a similar fate.)

Misfits (I wasn’t expecting Ray to play this and find it really moving.)

Full Moon (Complete with howls from Ray and enthused reception from the Americans at least.) 

Come Dancing (Ray describes his sisters' sorties to the Palais and claims one would return and tell him ‘I came dancing tonight, Ray’.) 

You Really Got Me (Ray talks about the blues genesis of the song and wanting to be Johnny Lee Hooker, a difficult aspiration for a ‘honky’ from North London, then has Ian plink the notes on the piano as Ray himself did for Dave. I imagine this to be a little like the scene in ‘Close Encounters’ when they play pipe tones to try to communicate with the spacecraft – Ray strikes them on the old upright in the famous front room, then when Dave plays them on the guitar, it’s the moment when the spacecraft repeats the notes at a deafening volume, blowing the glass in the window. An understanding, an accord, a momentous breakthrough. Ray says something like ‘and Dave picked up his guitar and played the Kinks into rock and roll history’.)

All Day and All of the Night (Let’s rearrange those chords again and have another hit. Mission accomplished.) 

Low Budget (A new one to many here tonight but a staple of the Kinks live shows since the late 70s as in this 79 version in which Dave lets rip on the guitar. And who can fail to be entertained by Ray’s lyrics: ‘Even my trousers are giving me pain/They were reduced in a sale so I shouldn't complain/ They squeeze me so tight so I can't take no more/They're a size 28 but I take 34’. I love these lines as it always gives Ray a chance to flaunt his arse. Let's face it, any excuse. But if you’ve got it …. And we all join in on: ‘At least my hair is all mine/My teeth are my own/But everything else is on permanent loan’ – well, not all but we devotees in the front.)

Before he leaves us, Ray comes to shake hands with some of us in the front row. I resist the temptation to pull him off the stage for a hug.

Tired of Waiting for You or Tired of You Waiting for Me …

Hung around fruitlessly at the Stage Door afterwards but feeling like a predator lying in wait for prey made me uncomfortable, as if I were about to ambush him, especially when I learned that Ray had managed to avoid us. It wasn’t that hard – we’re pretty pathetic predators. It was like sending a couple of rabbits to capture a lion. That’s what happens when you pit amateurs against experts. This whole fan thing is so weird. Now, having read that he gets tired of seeing the same old people, I’m anxious not to become one of them although I expect there’s something reassuring when you look out from the stage and spot some familiar faces.

See Our Friends

Ray has described his songs as his friends and what we discovered when we saw the those original BBC4 programmes on the Kinks, Ray and Dave, about a year ago, is what some of the Canterbury crowd find out tonight, that they’re our friends too (or at least nodding acquaintances that we’ve always wanted to know better), that we’ve assimilated them in the collective unconscious, they’re part of our history, and though dressed in different clothes, they’re instantly familiar and it warms our hearts to see/hear them again.

So all in all an exciting show. Ray’s energy is astonishing. I can't understand why reviewers complain about him still doing scissor jumps or leaps. God, do everything you can until you can no longer do it. I won't sum up yet as I have three gigs to go … it’ll be a marathon rather than a sprint.

[All 2012 images and video are mine.]

 

Ray Davies Rocks the Hop Farm Festival, 2012

I don’t understand festivals. I like variety but don’t see why someone who can appreciate the extraordinary talent of Ray Davies or the consummate professionalism of Billy Ocean (he’s like an injection of serotonin, his joy is contagious) should have any time for something so bland and uninvolving as Gomez, apologies to their fans, a band who obviously believe their own press releases, urging the people sitting or lying down to get up, begging them to, because why should they bother if we don't, etc., telling us to put our backs into it (hmm – we are here to relax and enjoy ourselves, mate – go polish your Mercury Prize – it seems that anyone can win an award these days and no one ever advises the recipients that ‘Success walks hand in hand with failure’) but who remain pub-standard in my opinion, only singled out here as an example of other bands scheduled for the main stage who aren’t in the same league as Ray and Billy. However, they did get their fans to choose which songs they should play. Not a bad idea in these interactive times.

Mary Epworth, who began the proceedings, was much better than some of the acts that followed – heartfelt singing, a pretty voice, good songs and great hair. Self-deprecating and sweet. Liked ‘Black Doe’ although this video is not really representative of how she comes across live. She’s not as generic-looking as that.

Still not really sure why a former prog rocker (and let’s face it, on this showing, we can dispense with the ‘former’ – it seems you can take the boy out of Genesis but …), Peter Gabriel, gets to headline over Ray Davies whose body of work’s quality far outstrips his but perhaps it was the spectacle of the light show that swung it. Ray doesn’t need a light show – his performance is brilliant enough, blazing bright for some songs, occasionally dazzling but leaving us basking in a warm glow.

Looking more robust than he did during the ‘Come Dancing’ show (perhaps it was just the suit), he’s energetic as soon as he reaches the stage and easily establishes a rapport with the crowd. Years of stagecraft I suppose. 

I Need You

A strange choice to start with, a fairly standard pop song, delivered with verve. Perhaps it’s directed at someone watching? Other songs showcase this era of the Kinks better. Would love to hear him resurrect ‘This Strange Effect’, ‘Tell Me Now So I’ll Know’ or ‘All Night Stand’ instead. As Mrs Doyle (from Father Ted) might say ‘Go on, go on, go on, go on, go on’. But I recall RD saying, ‘I don’t have to do anything’ when asked about pleasing fans live so I’ll shut up now. With a canon of work that huge, it’s always going to be hard to whittle the list down for one gig. 

Where Have All the Good Times Gone?

The extremely cheerful melody and the vitality of the rhythm temper this complaint about the present and paean to the past. Always a winner live. Dave usually plays it too.

‘Well, once we had an easy ride and always felt the same/Time was on my side and I had everything to gain/Let it be like yesterday/Please let me have happy days’

Ray was all of 21 when he wrote this in 1965. And I thought I was prematurely nostalgic! Mind you, I did get there at 11.

I’m Not Like Everybody Else

Great as ever but it's not the same without Dave’s guitar intro (above) (not in the original song but now very familiar from the live versions on YouTube and repopularised by The Sopranos) although Bill Shanley’s playing compensates some. The audience doesn’t know this song so the reaction is more muted but I would have been crazy if he hadn’t played it.

Sunny Afternoon
Which it is by the time Ray comes on, helped by Billy Ocean’s own little bit of sunlight.  Although encouraged to sing 'part' of this, the festival-goers want to hear their own voices and probably imagine they’re incredibly knowledgeable when they remember the verses and insist on shouting these out too. Thanks, guys. Less really is more.

Come Dancing

Jaunty but not as convincing as it was on stage in Stratford.

Semi-gratuitous but so what?

Brief Dave interlude. You know me, I can't talk about Ray without mentioning Dave. Or vice versa. And it seems Ray is the same. Plus it's time for me to weigh in on something Bashful has mentioned in another blog.

Although Ray dedicates songs to Dave and asks the audience to applaud him (which we would do anyway), I venture to say that there is absolutely no chance of a Kinks reunion as long as Ray continues to add (as Bashful hears, not me, me naively believing that for once Ray would do the better thing – see ‘Come Dancing’ blog) ‘Dave “Death of a Clown” Davies’. Why must he try to reduce Dave’s talent down to this song as if it were the only one he’d ever written, the only one we could have heard about, making him sound like a one-hit wonder, refusing to acknowledge not only Dave’s contributions on songs credited to Ray but also the Kinks songs he wrote, such as the anthemic ‘Strangers’, the effervescently enthusiastic ‘Love Me till the Sun Shines’ and ‘Wait till the Summer Comes Along’ (even sad, Dave sounds happy), the popular live staple ‘Living on a Thin Line’, or the early unparalleled ‘This Man He Weeps Tonight’ and ‘Mindless Child of Motherhood’, let alone any of Dave’s varied and inspiring solo material (‘The Lie’, 'Rock Me, Rock You’, ‘Flowers in the Rain’) , which he’ll probably affect not to have listened to? That was a long sentence, sorry. Ok, he wasn’t as prolific as you, Ray, but his talent extends beyond ‘Death of a Clown’, memorable as it is. He’s integral to the sound of the Kinks, from the guitar riff on ‘You Really Got Me’, to his distinctive vocals on ‘Come On Now’ or ‘Sleepless Night’, to the phenomenal virtuosity of his guitar skills live on tracks like ‘Yo Yo’, ‘I’m Not Like Everybody Else’ (see above) and ‘Wish I Could Fly Like Superman’ (see 3.40-4.50), where his guitar masterclass fleshes out an ordinary pop song, investing it with authentic rock kudos. Whether it's meant as a joke or a taunt, it's simply unnecessary and implies that whatever Ray says about Dave's talent, he doesn't rate him as he should. It’s always a back-handed compliment with Ray; he gives with the right and takes back with the left and with such sleight (or in this case ‘slight’) of hand too.

All Day and All of the Night

Dedicated to Dave.

Waterloo Sunset

To finally hear Ray (now 68) sing this brought tears to my eyes. I felt the same way I did when I heard Dave sing ‘Flowers in the Rain’ live. My heart was full. Wish the crowd had confined themselves to just singing the ‘Shalalas’ and not the verses though.

Dedicated Follower of Fashion

Cue more singalong from over-excited crowd.

These songs still sound amazing each time you hear them, and somehow reassuring, like returning to your hometown after a trip, their familiarity is comforting.

Dead-End Street (but not all of it, he only ventures halfway down the street, Dave got further at Satsang II).Would have loved to hear it all.

Till the End of the Day

What can I say? This is a recipe for instant happiness. So joyful. I’ve taken to playing it in the car whenever we set off somewhere. It really lifts the mood.

Tiny bit of Victoria

Why not more?

Twentieth Century Man

Ray quick-wittedly points out that he's a century out of date. I bet that’s why he played it.

Then the holy triumvirate, with the inevitable audience participation.

Lola

Can't listen to this without seeing YouTube footage of the brothers when young and it saddens me that I never knew them like this. Don’t get me wrong – I think they’ve aged well but still, Dave’s cheeks were so chubby, his hair so glossy and Ray sang it so vehemently. They looked like they were having fun. Now, to a certain extent, it’s got a classic status, which in some ways, decreases its value. It was ahead of its game idea-wise but now it’s just a fun song in the same way that Ray has turned, despite himself, into an elder statesman of rock, the well-respected man although no doubt still a rebel at heart.

Days

‘Thank you for the days/Those endless days, those sacred days you gave me/I'm thinking of the days/I won't forget a single day, believe me.’

Ideal sentiments for a festival but Ray sings

‘I wish today could be tomorrow/The night is dark/It just brings sorrow, let it wait.’

with a touch more feeling. It's a cheerful lament, a subtle blend of nostalgia, gratitude, forgiveness and hope.

You Really Got Me

The first hit and the perfect finale. Instantly recognisable even to the most uninformed among us. It's simply part of history. Leaves everyone wanting more but why is it that acts at festivals never do encores?

We were the wrong side of the stage and Ray only came over to us once, to perform a sexy little shimmy, tease that he is. (It sounds incongruous but Ray can pull it off as he and Dave do retain a certain sex appeal). He looked really well – it’s a shame that my best view of him was on the big screen. It was annoying that the people who’d shouldered their way to the front were a tad clueless: ‘So – was Ray Davies in the Kinks then?’ and ‘I think I know two Kinks songs’.

The set was totally apt for a festival crowd: all the hits. As I’ve booked tickets to three shows on the September/October tour, I hope that we’ll get to hear these and tons more from Ray’s inexhaustible catalogue. The only songs missing that would have fitted in really well, bridging the early Beatlesesque tracks with the later more considered, lyrically sophisticated ones, were perhaps ‘Apeman’, ‘Well-Respected Man’ or ‘Picture Book’.

But I wish Ray would do away with the constant ‘Way-oh, waaay-oh’ calls, expecting a response. Once for old times’ sake would be good. Also that the crowd would sing along when requested but not otherwise. I didn’t come to hear shouted, out-of-tune versions of these great songs; if I had, I would have gone to a Kinks karaoke night, if there were such a thing. I came to hear Ray’s delightfully idiosyncratic voice sing his delightfully idiosyncratic lyrics. I realise it must be gratifying, even moving, to hear a few hundred people sing your words back at you, but a little restraint on the part of the audience would not have gone amiss.

I wish both Dave and Ray would play more of their solo material live. I love the Kinks and I know that everyone wants to hear those songs but they’ve both been busy since they split up 16 years ago. So why not ‘Muswell Hillbillies’ and ‘Vietnam Cowboys’, ‘Better Things’ and ‘A Better Thing’; ‘The Moneyground’ and ‘Let It Be Written’? I would kill to hear him perform 'Holiday' or 'Yo-Yo' though.

Other acts I enjoyed:

Billy Ocean

God, he looks and sounds great although there’s no good footage from the festival. ‘Red Light Spells Danger’ is a highlight, such urgency, such atmosphere, and I’d completely forgotten ‘Love Really Hurts without You’, so even a couple of rather lame ballads and ‘Lover Boy’ can't diminish my enjoyment. Energy and commitment personified.

Mary Epworth ‘Long Gone’

Joel Sarakula ‘Feels Like the First Time’

I Am Kloot ‘Avenue of Hope’

Dog Is Dead ‘Two Devils’

Although I’m not a lover of festivals – I’d rather sit in a tearoom than a bar tent and I prefer to be far from the madding crowd, especially in the countryside – I’ve got to say that the Hop Farm is very well organised and user-friendly. There’s a courtesy shuttle bus from the local railway station – it’s not their fault that this happens to be in the middle of nowhere. There’s little queuing at any of the facilities and refreshments are reasonably priced. Drinking water is available from taps. The line-up is eclectic so there should be something to please everyone. Can't believe though that I managed to miss (the) Eagles here last year.