Showing posts with label Kink. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kink. Show all posts

Tuesday, 5 November 2013

Adventures in the Kinkdom


Here’s a brief précis of my Kinks blogs so far.

I become enchanted

and bewitched

Dave Davies Satsang Experience
First time around

Setlist and band members

You Only Live Twice

Muswell Hillbillies, Kinks locales



X-Raying X-Ray



Uncovering Kink


Kink vs X-Ray

Movie Stars

Village Green

Come Dancing

Ray Davies Live
At Canterbury

At the Hop Farm

On tour with Ray



Dave Davies Guitar Hero

Dave Davies & George Harrison Paralle1 Lives 1

Dave Davies & George Harrison Paralle1 Lives 2
Ray Davies at the BBC

Bashful Badger also summarised her Kinks blogs so far in a digest.

Friday, 14 September 2012

Brothers Beyond: 'Kink' - Dave Davies/'X-Ray' - Ray Davies


Dave makes smoking look cool

It occurs to me that I’m experiencing the 60s and 70s vicariously through Dave’s book. Such is my second-hand life.

So again I find myself digressing along a path I didn’t intend to take. You know how it is when you’re on holiday and you see a sign that says ‘KEEP OUT’ or ‘DANGER BEYOND THIS POINT’ (they had one of those at Niagara Falls) and it entices you to go exactly where you shouldn’t. The lure of the forbidden. Anyway, here are more thoughts on ‘Kink’, including some comparisons of how Dave and Ray remember and relate certain episodes in their lives.

In ‘Kink’, Dave more frequently (although not always) shows awareness of how other people are involved in or impacted upon by what he does or what happens. This reading highlights how two events can be perceived (or at least remembered) quite differently by the participants or observers of the time. It’s not that one brother is right and one wrong; it’s only natural that there should be these discrepancies but what they do and don’t include and the emphasis they place on these does help to illuminate facets of their personalities. ‘Kink’ extracts purple; ‘X-Ray’ green; others blue.

Normally you could say that school might come before sex and drugs and rock and roll but with Dave and Ray, they were to prove almost concurrent.

The fight
Ray is much more competitive than Dave. He likes to win. But the boys don’t only fight each other.
As schoolboys, Ray and Dave are both boxing in the same tournament. Typically, Ray doesn’t even acknowledge that Dave was also fighting while Dave watches Ray in action and lets us know how he feels:
‘I flinched at every blow, winced at every punch’ … ‘I was torn between my own joy over winning and concern and worry for my brother’ … ‘Ray had lost the bout but had won much respect and admiration from the crowd for the courageous fight he’d put up against a more seasoned boxer. I burst with pride.’

Dave wins his match, motivated by the desire to impress the teacher he fancies:
‘The joy of victory was nothing compared to the look of approval and pleasure I received from Miss Joshua.’

Ray comments that he’s rather unlucky to come up against a formidable opponent, Ronnie Brooks, reigning British school boxing champ, a fact Dave also includes:
‘the referee intervened to prevent what little brain I had from being spilled all over the floor’.

But each particular setback makes Ray more generally resolute:
‘I began to associate those flashing lights with defeat, and I was determined to avoid defeat in the future.’
Ray’s focus is more self-central; he doesn’t even seem aware that Dave was there. Or if aware doesn’t deem it relevant. I don't know whether this is because Ray is more single-minded about winning or whether he simply can't be bothered to watch his brother. The concern at this point seems to be all one-way.

Perhaps it was fortuitous that the young Davies brothers were encouraged to take up pugilism, given their later propensity for pugnacity and tendency to get into fights with each other and everyone else, this later possibly being the ‘mystery’ behind why they were originally banned in the US, Ray reacting in a Dave-type manner, unusually for him not rationalising the ramifications of his actions:
‘I believed America to be an evil place …I remember we were doing a television spot, I think it was for The Dick Clark Show – and this guy kept going on at me: “When the commies overrun Britain, you’re really going to want to come here …?” I just turned round and hit him, about three times. I later found out that he was a union official.’

Ray in underwear
Sex
I’m going to contradict myself here. Ray details some of his experiences with groupies in a similar way to Dave (although occasionally allowing another character to describe them, like a Vulcan mind meld, but they’re still his memories). And they’re explicit and raunchy. He doesn’t stint us on the viscera as I might have previously implied, for instance:
‘My head is banging against the door and the brunette is heaving back and forth, still with her head attached to my penis, her mouth slurping like a giant suction-pump’
although he does make this experience sound a little frightening. Note the lack of agency though – Ray is ‘acted upon’. For more on Ray’s sexhanigans, see ‘Sex-Ray’.



And Drugs
It’s that instant vs delayed gratification phenomenon again. It’s frightening – even after a friend dies of an overdose, Dave shows no signs of slowing down or giving up or even hesitating in his quest for the best high. After all, this is the Dave who filled in a questionnaire, putting his likes as ‘Money, clothes, cars’. Let’s face it – teenage Dave was pretty shallow. He wasn’t the Dave we know today, all sensitive and planet(s)-friendly. In the 60s, the spirits he was into were of a more liquid variety, usually taking the form of Rémy Martin.

In the US, a girl called Norma convinces Dave to try acid.
[Acid is the street name for LSD (lysergic acid diethylamide), a semisynthetic psychedelic drug, known for its psychological effects, which can include altered thinking processes, closed and open eye visuals, synesthesia, an altered sense of time and spiritual experiences. Good news is that it’s non-addictive and not known to cause brain damage, although in rare cases adverse psychiatric reactions such as anxiety or delusions occur.] [I don’t really understand what synesthesia is so if anyone can enlighten me, please feel free.]
‘Before me I could see the universe and all it contained and I was rushing at the speed of light into what seemed the very heart of it.’ … ‘I examined a chair and could sense the pulsating radiations from its atoms’ … ‘I would be suddenly lifted into mystical realms of ecstasy’ … but this elation doesn’t last: ‘Hopelessness pulled at the core of my being.’
This trip has a lasting effect on Dave. Overcome with sadness and anxiety, he tries to counteract this with first wine then sleeping pills. Good thinking, babe. Later he goes on stage:
‘Halfway through the show, I couldn’t stand it any more, so I left the stage, put my guitar in its case, and left the building.’
Naturally, Ray isn’t that sympathetic although just as volatile and unpredictable himself.

‘By 1971 I had lost my confidence to play live and was mentally in very bad shape’ … ‘I was again in despair and continuing to experiment with hallucinogens’ … ‘I spent the entire time in my room drinking wine and taking mescaline’
[Mescaline is a hallucinogen obtained from the cactus peyote. It produces rich visual hallucinations but the full spectrum of effects serves as a chemically induced model of mental illness. It is used as a recreational drug and also to supplement various types of meditation and psychedelic therapy. Users typically experience visual hallucinations and radically altered states of consciousness, often experienced as pleasurable and illuminating but occasionally accompanied by feelings of anxiety or revulsion. Other effects include: open and closed-eye visualizations, euphoria, dream-like state and laughter.]

Then a girl called Diana (there’s always a girl) introduces Dave to Angel Dust:
[Angel Dust is the street name for PCP, a recreational dissociative drug, formerly used as an anaesthetic, with both hallucinogenic and neurotoxic effects. It is significantly more dangerous than other categories of hallucinogens.]
‘It seemed fine when I was lying down but trying to walk was really difficult’ … ‘it was intended to be used when you were so drunk and stoned with everything else that it would be the only thing that could effect any noticeable difference’ … ‘God, it was wretched stuff.’

Dave with Flying Vee
It’s no wonder that Dave sometimes didn’t feel very well. Ray hasn’t really commented on any of these strange and disturbing interludes or the effect that any of this had on him and the band, whether through lack of interest or out of discretion, I can't say although he does mention the altercations that sometimes ensued as a result. Nor does he admit to having succumbed to any of the mind-altering substances out there, except for alcohol. Of the Cardiff fiasco (see below), he writes:
‘Dave had been hanging around with Brian Jones … and as a result started mixing drink and drugs. Everybody was relieved when, after several run-ins with the police and punch-ups outside clubs, he returned to live with Mum and Dad.’
That Brian Jones has a lot to answer for.

‘The year was 1963, and what I had on my mind mostly that year, besides girls and football, was guitars.’

Green amp set-up
Green amp
‘I always loved to mess around with amplifiers.’
‘When I was sixteen, I discovered how to make my guitar scream.’
Dave starts his book with a description of the sound he achieved with these different amps (the Elpico green amp – 10 watt says Dave, 8 watt says Ray, the 60-watt Linear, and Vox AC-30: a tale, recounted in vivid detail, involving razorblades and electric shocks (and knitting needles according to Ray). You know the one. Ray also recalls using this little amp at an early pub gig, where the band was dragged offstage but the amp played on.

‘It wasn’t called heavy metal when I invented it.’
Both recognise how important this was; it’s natural that Dave covers some of it more thoroughly than Ray (whose version is condensed and not quite accurate) because it was he who instigated the mutilation of the amp and it reinforces how integral he was to the distinctive guitar sound which was to jumpstart the Kinks career and influence so many other musicians.
‘As it vibrated it produced a distorted and jagged roar … the original set-up was so crude that the main amp's hum was almost as loud as the sound I had created. A sound was born, but I didn't know it at the time.’
Dave has just written a song called ‘Green Amp’. It would be great to get hold of a copy of the lyrics. Will hopefully hear it again at the September Satsang. Wonder if he'll try to reproduce the amp's sound.

They then use this strange multi-amp set-up live.

It works well on ‘You Really Got Me’, the guitar all crunchy, but Dave calls the first attempt to record this ‘a disaster’:
‘After we threatened to pack the whole thing in if they released it, Robert and Grenville lent us the money to go back in the studio and record it again. I think it cost £200’ (a lot of money in those days, or even today)

Ray recalls this differently. He’s the one who objects and insists it be re-recorded when it sounds too smooth, determined to recreate the raunchiness they achieved live on the track. He does mention Dave:
‘At the time Dave had a girlfriend called Linda who put my feelings into words when she said that it didn’t make her want to drop her knickers’ …
‘I threatened to leave the band and never have anything more to do with the music business again but nobody took any notice.’

Luckily for us, Ray eventually gets his way and they redo the recording:
‘Dave’s eyes squinted and his face broke into that arrogant sideways smile that I had learned to love and hate over the years. … He gritted his teeth and sneered at me before turning away to play his solo.’

If Ray hadn’t been so stubborn so early on, they maybe wouldn’t have had their first hit and the course of their career might have been very different. In a recent interview, Shel Talmy has said:
‘Ray was always difficult. I didn’t have a problem with anybody else. Ray was moody, and I think it’s fair to say jealous from the outset that I was the, quote-unquote, producer and that he wasn’t. We were obviously close in age, which made it even more difficult … but hey, we worked it out.’
This might be a reference to that first encounter.

As they were, 1960s
'Well, the road's been rocky along the way’ (‘The Road’)
The Cardiff Incident (sounds like one of those 70s thrillers my dad watches, like ‘The Philadelphia Experiment’) or Where Have All the Good Times Gone, already?
‘Mick tried to slice Dave’s head off with a cymbal during “Beautiful Delilah”
‘I looked at Mick and shouted at him, calling him a useless cunt. I said his drumming was shit and they’d sound better if he played them with his cock. I sneered at him and kicked his drums all over the stage’ … ‘he hit me over the head with one of his cymbal stands’
It was a stand not an actual cymbal that did the damage. He says he had half a dozen stitches in his head. Ray increases the number but I can't remember to what.
In Jon Savage’s book, we get Mick’s side of the story:
‘Everyone misinterprets it and says I hit him with a cymbal. If you hit someone with a cymbal, you decapitate them. I only had a high hat left from my kit to hit him with so I hit him over the head with the pedal end.'
This might be the memorable occasion when Dave is said to have spat in everyone’s faces but I’m only guessing. Happy days.

Pete and Jonah’s car accident 1966
Dave gets a call at 3 am from Grenville. Pete’s ok but
‘Jonah … was in a bad way, with fractures to the ribs and pelvis, acute stomach lesions and, worst of all, severe injuries to his face and jaw.'
Dave goes to see them both in hospital and is obviously concerned:
‘I was particularly upset about Jonah because I had grown up with him and we were good mates. His family ran the newspaper shop a few doors down from us.’
Ray hears about the accident in a news report before ‘Grandstand’. It’s not clear why no one tells him personally. Maybe they didn’t dare. He acts like this is a slightly annoying inconvenience but one that can be got around on their scheduled TV appearances as these are usually mimed anyway. Pete is missing from this ‘Sunny Afternoon’ from around the time and Ray looks pretty pissed off.

I think these comparisons show that Ray was detached from those around him, almost remote, in a way that Dave never was. Dave is much more emotional than Ray; Dave makes me emotional when I’m with him. But Ray retains that distance for safety’s sake and so that he can observe and judge and make a considered decision. Dave’s decisions are rooted in his feelings. (See ‘Man Behaving Badly’.)

I’ll end with a quote from ‘Kink’, something Ray’s second wife, Yvonne, said to Dave:
‘If Ray was bit more like you and you were a little more like him, then both of you would have been better off.’
It takes a woman.


Last word
I know that if Dave thinks I look cold, he’ll offer me a sweater to wear; I don't know about Ray. I think he would probably say ‘Why didn’t you wear something warmer?’ I'd love to meet him and find out.

To come: The third Dave Davies Satsang weekend retreat; the Kinks trail in Muswell Hill and Highgate complete with surprise guest appearance from an original member of the Kinks.


Thanks to Wikipedia for drug descriptions and Frank Lima for amp set-up picture.




Monday, 30 July 2012

Reflections on 'Kink' by Dave Davies

Hardback cover
I’d originally entitled this ‘Kink’ vs ‘X-Ray’ but realised that this helped to perpetuate a sense of competition between the brothers. I know that Dave doesn’t want to play that game. And the two books relate in a complementary way, one illuminating some of the shadows in the other but still retaining the chiaroscuro: put them together and you get the full picture.

You might think from reading their autobiographies and from their constant skirmishes that all the Davies brothers have in common is a love of malted milkshakes. Dave makes his own version with Horlicks and Haagen-Dazs. Music brought them together despite their differences and kept them together through thick and thin. There are many of us who hope (against hope) that one day it will again.

'I probably shouldn't tell you this, but Ray phoned up someone at our office and said: Have you seen Dave's book? They said they'd seen bits and pieces. He said (adopts serious, pained tone): You know, I think this is going to be the end of the Kinks this year.'
This comment manages to imply that the Kinks have an end every year. Not sure whether Ray’s reaction is caused by Dave’s personal criticisms of Ray (as prevalent as his appreciation of his talent) or the fact that Dave’s revelations will somehow affect the reputation of the band, leading to its dissolution.

This started off as an attempt to compare Kink with X-Ray, focusing on certain events covered in both books to see how different the brothers’ perceptions and preoccupations are. But, for the moment, I want to concentrate on an overview of ‘Kink’, and in particular, what it says about the early days of the Kinks.

Dave at eleven, thanks, Frank!
I have already written about X-Ray and stated that it’s in no way a straightforward read. Dave’s book is much more open, more even-handed and seems at first glance much more transparent. But you should never judge a book by its cover or rely on your first impression. As I delved further, I realised that Dave happily disclosed much of his bad behaviour, was occasionally remorseful but sometimes proud. He's able to hide in plain sight, by appearing to ‘show and tell’ but the book does not 'tell all', Dave understandably remaining reticent where some family relationships are concerned. Nevertheless, Kink still provides more detail than X-Ray, particularly on the things that mattered to Dave back then (girls, cars, fashion) with the added advantage that it hasn’t been mixed with fiction (these are the facts as Dave remembers them) and that it takes us beyond 1973 into the 90s. Ray is rumoured to have another book in the pipeline and we can be sure it will be hard to fathom but fascinating. Oh and Dave’s includes an index which helps any reader, reviewer, confirm facts, names, dates, as they go or as they return (something which Ray’s ‘work of faction’ mitigates against) and photographs, including one of Dave as a very cheeky-looking eleven-year-old. I bet he could get away with murder, something confirmed by his mother’s comment ‘you were such a lovely little boy, but what a sod you were’. I don't know if I can write that in a blog. I think it’s ok if I write it with an English accent.

Dave spends a while talking about each album as it occurs: the inspiration for certain tracks, how particular effects were achieved, which tracks were his favourites and why. It’s made me revisit some songs and listen to ones that were new to me (being a relatively recent fan). More on this aspect in the next blog.

Dave’s style is very natural. Like Dave. There’s no additional storyline, no framing device, no omnipotent Corporation. He’s purely and simply stated what happened and when and how he felt at the time. Occasionally he goes off track, but normally when trying to explain or describe something extraordinary. He writes more articulately than I thought he would before I met him (sorry, Dave, I know better now). At the close of the book, he starts to ramble a little and this could possibly have been kept in check by a zealous editor but, as I’ve been known to ramble myself, I’ll forgive him.

‘It’s a miracle we survived it at all.’
Once you’ve read Dave’s book, you can totally identify with this quote on the back cover. No kidding. It is a miracle that Dave survived. Someone must be watching over him.

Dave from Tumblr
‘He was withdrawn and thoughtful. I did the partying; he wrote about it.’
The book is partly a celebration of an era (the 60s and 70s when the Kinks were at the height of their powers in the UK), the new freedoms, the permissive society, the drug culture, the fashion. Dave’s right: he lived the life, embraced it with open arms (and, let's face it, when Dave was young, he wouldn't have been satisfied with just an embrace), apparent in footage from the time, like this rendition of ‘I’m a Lover Not a Fighter’ (my marvellous friend described him as ‘a force of nature then’) or 'Beautiful Delilah', he often appears more assured and comfortable on stage than Ray (sometimes endearingly gauche), who was to come into his own later; Ray remained detached, sampling a little at a time while considering, observing and commentating. As the quote suggests, Ray experienced things vicariously through Dave. He didn’t have to go over the edge himself but, as in his recurring nightmare (described later), allowed Dave to launch himself over the precipice. If he hadn’t let go, Dave’s momentum would have taken them both.

The Scotch of St James
‘It was a very hazy time for me really, because I was always out of it. I was always getting crazy and going around the clubs and having a great time, falling over with Eric Burdon at the Scotch of St James’s.’
According to Jon Savage’s excellent book on the Kinks, when ‘You Really Got Me’ went to Number One, Dave embarked on a binge that was to last three years. He began to care about designer labels, know the names of posh drinking clubs, and was seduced by the trappings of his own fame.

‘I close my eyes and smile and thank God that I’m still here and that there’s nothing I have missed.’
No chance of that, Dave. He captures the hedonistic spirit of the times in a way that Ray doesn’t, possibly because Dave was more in tune/step with them. He quickly realises that his success opens doors and bursts through them, while Ray hesitates on the threshold. Dave’s account floods colour into a picture that was monochrome in X-Ray, as he is prone to none of Ray’s ambivalence. In my analysis of X-Ray, I described it as predominantly ‘Impressionist’ but Dave’s tales are the details taken from that painting. Everyone knows the devil is in the detail.

'His clothes are loud, but never square' ('Dedicated Follower of Fashion')
Dave’s devotion to consumerism is at odds with the Dave we now know, but he’s refreshingly forthright about it while occasionally suffering slight misgivings, choosing to revisit Muswell Hill in 1969 in his Austin Mini rather than his Citroen Maserati. He later criticises the owners of a shop called Lord Jim that gave him credit when he was at the top, but want cash once the Kinks have fallen out of favour. He sees them as traitors because of this. I like a quote from the unlikely source of Shania Twain here. She said that it made no sense that people only wanted to give her free things once she was rich enough to actually afford them. She didn’t accept them.

Told:
‘Sorry, Dave. Come back when you have a hit record.’
‘I threw his clothes at him, told him what I thought of him, then kicked over some clothes-racks before I stormed out of the store. … Before he had had his tongue so far up my arse that he could barely breathe, and now he was treating me like this.’
Dave doesn’t seem to have come across fair-weather friends before and appears to have enjoyed all the kow-towing that preceded the come-down. ‘A Long Way from Home’ is critical of this type of behaviour:
‘… you think/That money buys everything …/ I hope you find what you are looking for with your cars and your handmade overcoats’

Dave enthusiastically documents his voyage into excess with the same no-holds-barred approach in which he over-indulged at the time, with the same intensity which he invests in this 'Milk Cow Blues'. So many times he doesn’t know what drugs he’s taking, how he gets home, who he’s with. He’s led a charmed life. I know plenty of people who’ve experimented to a much lesser degree and are still ruing the consequences (it’s usually the family that bears the brunt). I’m not disapproving although I think he took way too many risks despite proliferating warning signs – his friends George Harris and Ewin Stephens dying from overdoses, his own experiences. Poor wife Lisbet was long-suffering:

‘As she placed the food in front of me, I collapsed on the table, smashing the plate and knocking the table to the floor. There was blood all over the place.’
She pours his drugs down the drain.
‘I struggled with her and tried to pick the dissolving drugs out of the sink with my fingers …set about dismantling the U-bend’.

They were great boots!
But these deaths and episodes only seem to register momentarily with Dave; he says he’ll be in touch with George’s Mum and wishes he had got his favourite boots back from Ewin. He seems more distressed about losing the boots than he does about Ewin’s death, indicative of his preoccupations at the time.

‘They had been hand-made at Anello & Davide, thigh-length in tan leather with a large Cuban heel and a narrow Spanish-style toe. They were skin-tight and came right up to my crotch, with a loop strap at the top of each boot where I could thread a belt.’
It’s obvious that he really loved them. Even the picture captions confirm his interest: ‘Note my lace shirt’, ‘my trademark gingham shirt’. He was a total fashionista then.
 
Although this seems callous, it’s possibly also a self-defence mechanism. If he stops to think, he’d have to stop … . It’s almost as if he believed he were untouchable, invincible. He rushes headlong into more danger, blithe, oblivious.

As usual, I have a lot more to write, but will include here an example from the two books because I mentioned it earlier.

Brotherly love
It’s interesting that both brothers believe that they will have to look out for or protect the other one and they come to this realisation through some sleep-induced phenomena.

‘I realized that night even though I was the younger brother, I would somehow have to fulfil the role of the older one and keep a look-out for him.’
This is Dave’s comment after witnessing Ray sleepwalking. It’s very similar to Ray’s: 

‘As I looked over at my brother sleeping peacefully in the next bed, I knew that I would always have to protect this interloper even though I could never quite forgive him for spoiling my solitary but idyllic existence’.

‘I had a recurring dream. My brother and I were playing on the edge of a cliff. David Russell slipped over the edge and I grabbed him as he fell. There we would stay, one brother literally holding the other's life in his hands. As the dream turned into a nightmare, I felt my sibling’s hand slip from my grasp, and the pathetic cries from my falling brother caused me to wake, shouting and sweating.’

‘I always end up letting him fall.’
Whether this is through lack of strength or lack of will is not made clear. It’s possible that this was a portent of their future dynamic, Dave always plummeting over the edge as Ray reached out to stop him.

As children, they reject each other and find their brotherly connection with their nephews, who are of a similar age: Ray with Terry (Rose and Arthur’s child) and Dave with Michael (Dolly and Joe’s child).


More in next blog about the three Rs: relationships, responsibility and respect. See Dave Davies - Kink - Man Behaving Badly.

(Thanks to http://maydavies.tumblr.com/ for the gif(t))

Wednesday, 18 January 2012

X-Raying 'X-Ray' by Ray Davies: Part One

Had to divide this up as it became longer, evolving from an essay into a dissertation. Please excuse the length.

Ray Davies’s decision to write an autobiography seems a peculiar one when it is almost immediately apparent that he just wants to confuse the issue. Which issue? Every issue. The title itself is an enigma.




It’s typical of his sense of humour that he’s called this an ‘Unauthorized Autobiography’, suggesting the following:

1. An acknowledgement that there can be no completely accurate version of events, as everything is subjective; if even his version is not authorized or authoritative, what hope is there for anyone else’s attempt?
2. That the book has not been authorized by the powers that be (the people in grey), the mysterious ‘them’, referred to so often in the text and is therefore more likely to be true.
3. That he is poking fun at the biography industry itself and perhaps other unauthorized biographies of the Kinks.
4. That he recognizes that he isn’t always entirely honest. Or, at least, that there might be some truth in the book but probably not the whole truth. It’s certainly not a straightforward read but we would expect nothing less or more of Ray. Or
5. He’s simply playing with the words because he can.

The main title, 'X-Ray', is also open to interpretation:

1. It implies something that he mentions more than once in the book – that he is no longer the Ray from these stories, that that is an ex-Ray, inevitably changed and alien to the Ray now speaking. After all, ‘the past is a foreign country; they do things differently there’.
2. It gives the impression that he is going beneath the surface of the story, under the skin, like an X-ray, to reveal what is usually hidden. He brings this to the fore again in the final few pages when he has an X-ray of his back fall out of a folder. The problem with this approach is that it sometimes wilfully ignores what is on the surface. I don't think this is a deliberate obfuscation. I think it’s how Ray’s mind works.


Identity crisis or 'Acute Schizophrenia Paranoia Blues'
In his songs, Ray Davies often adopts a persona to present a situation from a particular character’s perspective or writes about a specific character he’s created from his (Ray’s) own perspective and in this book he attempts something similar except that this time he takes on two aspects of his own personality or himself at different stages in life, at least that is what is implied in the Foreword, also called an Introduction. So, he’s the unnamed reporter interviewing the elderly RD as well as RD himself. (For the purpose of this review and to avoid confusion, when I talk about Ray Davies, the author of the book and the frontman of the Kinks, I’ll call him Ray, to distinguish him from the ‘characters’ in the book.) Of course, he’s hiding behind these creations – we can't trust them as each has their own agenda (although naturally we mustn’t forget that, in fact, they’re all Ray’s, that he has a conflicting set of agendas) and admits that what he says/remembers may or may not be true. It’s not so much that the line between fact and fiction is blurred, it’s more that the distinction doesn’t exist. Just as Ray’s songs take up residence in our heads, when the young man listens to his music, this allows RD to enter his subconscious via his dreams and even, in their first meeting, to possess him, as if the only way he can convey to the writer the visceral nature of his experience is to have him go through it (like the fellatio from the groupie or a particularly vicious physical fight with Dave).

And so he’s a detached presence, an observer (as he is in his songs) even in his own life, as if just being himself, telling us about himself, would not be enough. Perhaps this signifies a germ of insecurity. You get the idea that everything he says is considered and his reactions measured.

This use of characters invests the text with a degree of mystery and uncertainty. The reader has to weave a way through the dream sequences and fantasy sections in a quest for the truth of what really happened.

It also allows the reporter to comment on RD’s character (an obsession with breasts, for instance), his opinions wavering between admiring (‘he was still a handsome old boy’) and damning (‘degenerate, sexist weirdo’). We must remember that this is actually Ray passing judgement on himself, which he also does a few pages later, when he declares ‘even as a child, I was a dirty old man’, demonstrating a degree of self-awareness; Ray realises that people might well disapprove of these traits but he doesn’t try to hide or excuse them. Other comments include the way that RD switches accents, one minute ‘pantomime Cockney’, the next well-spoken, Ray perhaps acknowledging that he was the original Mockney. This is particularly apparent in performances from around the punk explosion of 1977, when Ray says ‘I suppose’ after everything and his accent becomes more common, for instance, the way he introduces the next song after this version of ‘Get Back in the Line’ (rather endearing, sort of, I suppose). He has shown a fondness for Cockney rhyming slang in his lyrics – ‘chauffeur-driven jamjar’; ‘two-tone daisy roots’ (‘Sitting in My Hotel’); ‘soaking up that currant bun’ (‘Sitting in the Midday Sun’).

Because of all this, the book poses more questions than it answers. When the reporter ignores some issues and concentrates on others, you get frustrated before realising that these are the matters that Ray wants us to focus on. He’s the puppet master here. But do we really want to know about ‘the girl’ (and whether she is Julie Finkle, although he claims she’s an assimilation of many: ‘Truly, Julie, you're only a name/You could be a Molly or a Sarah-Jane/But if I should never see you again/I'll never forget you, truly’) or would we rather learn about his relationships with the rest of the band, his wife, his family or satisfy more prurient curiosity?

It’s like an Impressionist painting. You’re not given an exact representation of his life, which would probably be impossible but a general impression. That’s all Ray wants you to have. For instance, he leaves you with the idea that he was usually faithful to Rasa, resisting temptation until … he didn’t. But was this the only time? That’s the implication.

Importance of events
So it’s a complex, deliberate form of subterfuge, with the timeline all mixed up so events are hard to follow; more a series of stories related as they occur to him bearing little relation to the actual order in which they happened. I would like to think that the reason for this circumspection is the need for discretion; names might be changed to protect the innocent, as they say, or at least to ensure that the guilty are not easily identifiable.

Some aspects and incidents are covered exhaustively (meetings with lawyers, his confused mental state) or seem to be, like certain characters, representative of what we presume were many similar; others are merely glanced upon. I suppose we have to accept that these are what Ray considers to be the crucial factors in his life, character-building or psyche-forming (the accident that affects his sister Peg, the tragic tale of Rene). What’s worrying about this is where the book ends – 1973 – is this where the original Ray ends?

Dave
This arbitrariness is most apparent in regard to his brother, Dave. We learn a lot about Ray’s state of mind but not much about what Dave is up to, being left with the idea that what Dave did had little effect on Ray (apart from the initial insult of having been born of course) and that occasions when Dave was emotionally desperate did not impinge on Ray’s consciousness although Dave probably did not confide in Ray anyway. This tactic relegates him to a bit-part player in ‘The Ray Davies Show’, a walk-on role with a few lines of dialogue. He’s incredibly vague on Dave’s shenanigans (there is no speculation about why Dave is always in trouble, it just seems to ‘happen’, neither is there any sense that Ray feels at all responsible for his younger sibling bar the line at the beginning ‘I knew that I would always have to protect this interloper’ although I do get the idea that Dave was probably more experienced in the ways of the world than his brother and sexually precocious). Events that have affected and inspired Dave for years are glossed over, with a deal of possibly intentional inaccuracy. So, although Ray seems self-aware (as RD in retrospect), he shows little awareness of others and their problems. We hear more about how Pete Quaife holds a cigarette than we do about Dave’s lost love, Sue, who isn’t even named although RD does recall Nicola, sole arbiter of what was and wasn’t cool in the early days of the Kinks. But it might be that Ray feels he’s mythologised Dave (and their relationship) in song already so why repeat it here? He might expect us to listen to ‘Two Sisters’, ‘Dandy’, ‘Long Way from Home’, ‘All Night Stand’, etc. instead.

I wonder how deliberate this is though, this minimising of other people’s roles in the story. I’ve noticed it with other musicians with inflated egos, how they have a tendency to ignore the contribution of another band member, and once the band has broken up, pretend that they no longer have any interest in what their ex-band mates are doing (Bob Mould of Grant Hart). In refusing to discuss Dave in any concentrated way, Ray denies his importance and downplays his role to ‘other band member’, not acknowledging how integral and to forgive the pun, instrumental, Dave was to the sound of the Kinks. But then again, an autobiography is by its very nature an egocentric proposition so he can't be blamed for that. It’s about him, not Dave. Dave does evince compassion for Ray in 'Kink' though, when Rasa leaves Ray on his birthday, for instance, and when Ray attempts suicide although at other times, Ray can fall off the stage, knock himself out and everyone just laughs.

But perhaps I’m being too hard on Ray. It’s possible that he feels that he could not write about Dave without being overly critical, something that Dave has not been shy of in 'Kink', in which he is sometimes vituperative on the subject of his brother. Discretion might be the better part of valour.

Dave jokes that this book should have been called 'Y-Ray?' Meanwhile Ray claims not to have read 'Kink'. Hmm. He would have to be inhuman not to be curious although it might simply be self-preservation; he might read something that will lead to an even more irretrievable breakdown in their relationship.

Omissions

Perhaps Ray reveals more in the things he doesn’t say, or the incidents he describes at length while getting key details wrong. Is this because he doesn’t care enough about them to get them right? Or did he feel himself too far removed from them? Or does he just think that his rewritten version is better or more exciting and dramatic than the truth?

I get the idea that Ray wants us to believe that he was in control at all times (while Dave was frequently out of control) but this doesn’t sit well with some of the conclusions we may draw and that he seems to want us to draw – for instance, that he may have been deliberately trapped into marriage, the result of a conspiracy. We are given clues but still left with a mystery. I could choose to believe that everything that RD hints may have happened, actually did happen but still be unsure whether his wife was unfaithful, how she received a black eye, etc. (the fact: Rasa had a black eye; the clue: Ray admits he could be violent). Or in whom the possible interloper (the mysterious Barry Fantoni) in the marriage was actually interested: Ray or Rasa. Very intriguing. Like a song lyric or a poem, which we are left to interpret as we please. Much of what we learn has to be teased out of the subtext.

Part Two will follow shortly.