Classic Music Review: The Great Lost Kinks Album

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Don’t blame me for the pricing model of supply-and-demand economics! Click to window shop.

The Great Lost Kinks Album has a curious history.

The Kinks never intended for these songs to be released as a collection. They had already allowed several tracks that hadn’t made the cut on earlier albums to appear on The Kink Kronikles the year before. Without their knowledge or agreement, Reprise Records (whom they’d just fired as their American distributor) pulled together several tracks The Kinks had not approved for release and created a package called The Great Lost Kinks Album in 1973. Ray Davies found out about it when he saw the album on the Billboard charts. Legal action ensued and the album was pulled from distribution in 1975, instantly transforming into a collector’s item. Today you can get a sealed copy of the original vinyl for $125; used will set you back $65. You can almost assemble the equivalent album from various other releases authorized by The Kinks in the last couple of decades, but some of these, like the 1998 version of Percy, are rare and expensive themselves. Only one song remains elusive, “Til Death Do Us Part,” a song Ray Davies wrote for a film based on the British TV series that spawned All in the Family.

Had the tracks remained unavailable, I would not be reviewing this album. I firmly believe the artist should have full control over the release of his or her art. So, I’ll skip “Til Death Do Us Part” and share my thoughts on the other tracks. I would also caution the new listener that The Kinks were obviously dissatisfied with the recordings of several of these tracks and many do not meet the recording standards of their official releases, rather like bootlegs and outtakes. That said, a lot of the songwriting on The Great Lost Kinks Album is pretty impressive, making it a worthy addition to one’s music library.

“There is No Life Without Love”: A pretty little folkish ballad from Dave Davies with a high-low combination on the vocal that is unusually compelling. I’m not exactly sure what that odd instrument that sounds like a toy harpsichord is, but the arrangement is reminiscent of the Face to Face period.

“Lavender Hill”: A fascinating mix of the minor key songs of the period spiced with a bit of English show tune and a touch of “Autumn Almanac.” The lyrics describe a sensuous and ideal place to spend a Sunday afternoon, and with a better take this song might have fit nicely on Village Green Preservation Society (which it eventually did in the expanded release).

“Groovy Movies”: An upbeat and catchy little fantasy number from Dave Davies where he imagines himself in the role of movie director and doing very little work in the process. I find the line “Sometimes I think I won’t make it playing in a rock ‘n’ roll band” intriguing from the standpoint of Dave constantly playing back seat to his brother, but that’s just idle speculation. I can understand why they didn’t release this one, as it doesn’t seem to fit with the themes of any of the records they were making at the time.

“Rosemary Rose”: A brief but vivid character sketch from Ray Davies with a slight Latin feel that could have found a place on Something Else . . . but the harpsichord is so Face to Face . . . and it doesn’t really fit on Village Green . . . I don’t know. I like the arrangement and occasional peaks of rhythmic thrust (ooh—great phrase!) very much, and I wish they had spent more time perfecting this one. Like “Lavender Hill,” it is similar to other Kinks songs of the period, so I can understand its orphan status.

“Misty Water”: This song somehow falls between “Monica” and “Wicked Annabella” in terms of feel; it’s more like the latter song in that it deals with strange and mysterious women. While it’s not as strong as either one of those songs, I love Mick Avory’s thumping drums and the endlessly catchy chorus.

“Mr Songbird”: This is The Kinks version of “59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin’ Groovy)”. I generally hate cheerful songs, and this is no exception.

“When I Turn Off the Living Room Light”: Featuring one of the great opening lyrical passages of all time, this song always grabs my attention and makes me laugh. Somebody had to write a song for the homely, and who better than Ray Davies to pull off the trick? The lyrics describe the neurotic behavior that dominates many marriages of laziness or convenience, pointing out the absurdity of the things people will do to pretend things are okay and to hold their marriages together. It’s also a song that questions our obsession with beauty as a prerequisite for self-esteem and relationship success, reminding us that we all have faults that we’d like to hide from the glare of bright light:

Who cares if you’re Jewish,

And your breath smells of garlic,

And your nose is a shiny red light.

To me you are gorgeous,

And everything’s right,

When I turn off the living room light . . .

We don’t feel so ugly,

We don’t feel so draggy,

We don’t feel so twisted up tight.

And we don’t feel as ugly as we really are,

When we turn off the living room light.

Ray’s vocal is perfect, a combination of detachment, a slight note of apology and a touch of human sadness. While I found no live videos of this song, it’s still worth posting a static YouTube video just to hear his performance:

“The Way Love Used to Be”: Ray Davies has written comparatively few love songs, but there are few love songs written by anyone as beautiful and tender as this one. First appearing on the Percy soundtrack, one can imagine Terry singing this to Julie when they meet in Waterloo Station:

I know a place not far away

And we’ll find a way through the city streets

We’ll find a way through the mad rushing crowd

And we’ll talk about the way love used to be

The lovely string arrangement, the longing tone in Ray’s voice, the beautifully flowing melody make this one of my favorite Kinks songs of all time. The transition from “When I Turn Off the Living Room Light” is a bit shocking, demonstrating that Reprise cared as much about track order as they did about the artists whose work they were misusing.

“I’m Not Like Everybody Else”: It was mentioned in one of the comment threads attached to my review of Face to Face that Ray Davies originally penned this for Eric Burdon and The Animals, who inexplicably turned it down. It’s a perfect Eric Burdon song! Nonetheless, I love the attitude Dave Davies brings to this vocal. The theme of the song is, “Take your expectations and shove them up your ass,” one of the healthiest pieces of relational advice you could ever receive. It was the B-side to “Sunny Afternoon,” a single I would have bought in a New York minute had I been alive back then. What a combination!

“Plastic Man”: Banned by the BBC for use of the word “bum” in the lyrics, this is one where Ray takes the metaphor and beats the shit out of it. Not one of my favorites.

“This Man He Weeps Tonight”: The B-side to “Shangri-la” is a melodic Dave Davies rocker with a nifty and memorable lead guitar riff. It also features curiously fascinating lyrics that highlight how insecure and we can be when considering relationships:

I thought our thing would last,

‘Cause it said so in my horoscope,

The days have gone and past while dreaming away.

The lighting here is dim,

And the room closes in around me.

Your picture’s hanging loose on a rusting nail.

“Pictures in the Sand”: Not much in the way of depth, but still a fun little song played with a loose feel and good cheer. It’s better when you contrast it with Pat Boone’s “Love Letters in the Sand,” which despite its leisurely whistling and Mr. Boone’s white bread, white bucks, white-white-white style, is an astonishingly bitter song.

“Where Did the Spring Go?” (also titled “Where Did My Spring Go?”): This song about the inevitable deterioration of the body can be irritating at times, but the perverse perspective of the narrator, reminiscent of”Complicated Life,” is another example of Ray’s perceptiveness about the absurd flaws in human logic. All the narrator has to do is avoid human contact and activity and he will live forever, even if it means denying all the things that make life worthwhile:

Remember all those sleepless nights,

Making love by candlelight,

And every time you took my love,

You were shortening my life.

As much the record moguls’ arrogance offends me, and despite the fact that you can cobble together most of it from various sources, the experience of listening to The Great Lost Kinks Album feels like you’ve made a wonderful and special discovery, especially when played in its entirety.The lack of polish often adds to the charm of many of the tracks, and really, I don’t think it’s possible to ever satisfy one’s appetite for Kinks’ songs from that period. Refusing to follow the trends of the time, Ray Davies and crew created a unique body of work that will live forever.

23 responses

  1. My only disagreement is “Mr. Songbird”. It’s a great Davies/Kinks song, beautifully performed, with Pete Quaife’s best bass line. It should have been on side one of Village Green Preservation Society.

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  2. Great review! Only a korrektion and a few asides.

    “I’m Not Like Everybody Else” was the B-side not to “Dead End Street” but “Sunny Afternoon”.

    I interview Eric Burdon when he came to old Brazil in 1996; I asked him about this song and he said he didn’t remember having been offered a Kinks song, although he said he considered the Kinks as the best live English band of the time.

    As for “Rosemary Rose” sounding so Face To Face, that’s because the 1966-67 period was the Kinks’ most productive ever. To begin with Ray Davies wanted the Face To Face album to have 18 tracks (but the record company allowed for only 14). He wrote so many songs at the time that there are leftovers on the next two studio albums, Something Else (“Two Sisters” and “End Of The Season”) and The Village Green Preservation Society (“Village Green”, which even was released one year before the album in France!).

    “The transition from “When I Turn Off the Living Room Light” is a bit shocking”. Well, to me it’s a part of the essence of the Kinks, a most versatile band and masters of the kontrast, and I think kompiler John Mendelssohn made a great job, as he did in The Kink Kronikles, a “labour of love” (to kwote a later Kinks song) indeed. I find it fascinating how GLKA is so kohesive, given that he kobbles together tracks recorded over a long period (1966 to 1971) over the most various circunstances (from single B-sides to demos).

    And just some food for thought: isn’t “prerequisite” a pleonastic word in itself? A requisite is “pre-” something by definition. Here in old Brazil the Portuguese equivalent, “pré-requisito”, is widely used but kondemned as a pleonasm in favour of simply “requisito” (which English korresponding word, “requisite”, is much used by English speakers too). Not trying to teach the Lord’s Player to priests and nuns, just a thought.

    Cheerio,

    Ayrton

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    1. Of course! I will make the correction immediately.

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  3. Thanks for reviewing this one! I worked at a used record store in the early eighties, and it was a big thrill to come across this album after years of searching (pre-internet days…). Anyway, I see you picked up on the “I’m Not like Everybody Else” correction, but that still makes an amazing pairing with “Sunny Afternoon,” no? I’ve always thought the coupling of “Dead End Street” with “Big Black Smoke” made for the Kinks’ most cohesive A-side/B-side 45; in it’s own right, it stands up well to “Penny Lane”/”Strawberry Fields,” which came out a couple of months later. What a great period for music!

    While I have agreed with most of your thoughtful assessments of the Kinks’ music, I think you’re going to have to force yourself to listen to ‘Mr. Songbird” again. As with many fine Kinks songs (I’m On an Island” comes to mind), the bouncy arrangement for Mr. Songbird stands in stark contrast with the lyrics (condensed below):

    Won’t you sing me a song or two,
    Won’t take you long to just sing to me please,
    Won’t you whistle a tune?
    I got nothing to gain, I got nothing to lose,
    But if you sing me a song,
    You’ll make me happy.
    Sing Mr. Songbird,
    You help to keep my troubles away.

    Mister, won’t you sing me a song?
    Won’t you sing a little melody?
    Won’t you try to help me along?
    Won’t you sing a little song for me, oh yeah.

    Sing me a song or two,
    Won’t take you long to just sing to me please,
    Won’t you whistle a tune?
    Though I ain’t got a bean
    You cost me nothing to dream,
    So if your waiting for nothing,
    Do something for me.
    Sing Mr. Songbird,
    You help to keep my troubles away.
    You help to keep my problems away.
    You help to keep the devil away.

    As I read these lyrics, this is a guy down on his luck begging a street performer (or a bird!) to sing to him though he has no money to give. The last three lines of this little ditty make it pretty clear this guy has some problems; all is not groovy (Andy Miller’s “Village Green” book includes a nice piece on this song along these lines).

    Anyway, I’m so grateful that you’ve created a forum for these discussions (where else can I defend “Mr. Songbird” or “Shangri-la”?). Unlike so many of their British Invasion counterparts, the Kinks have not been analyzed and reviewed to death. The depth of their body of work is deeply deserving of the insightful attention you’ve given it. I look forward to your writing on their Greatest Hits LP!

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    1. I have forced myself to Mr. Songbird again and still have the same opinion. The music sounds like something from a bad 60’s sitcom and I think the meaning you mention is a fairly generous interpretation. However that makes two commentators in favor of Mr. Songbird and only me against, so you guys win!

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      1. Sorry to force you for naught. Oh well, thanks for trying! Maybe the truth resides somewhere between my generous interpretation and your bad 60’s sitcom assessment! Lot’s of room there…

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        1. Ray Davies is a master of the “bettered rewrite”… A friedn of mine pointed out that “Mr. Songbird” is reminiscent of Simon & Garfunkel’s “Feelin’ Groovy”, and I thnk he’s right – and I think the Kinks song is better too, heh heh.

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  4. I await your review of the Kink Kronikle kompilation, which mops up tracks from all their studio albums from 1966 to 1971 along with single tracks and one then-unreleased; although you have reviewed all (or most) of these albums, I think these album tracks in this new konfiguration form a very strong album, a good introduction for neophytes and a very enjoyable listen even for veterans. Being a musician himself, John Mendelssohn has a good ear for kompilation such as these…

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    1. I appreciate the suggestion, but right now I’m feeling the need to move on and do something different. I have one more Kinks album in the queue (their first U. S. greatest hits album) and then I’m on to the new. I will say I’m very fond of the album, and rank “Days,” “Berkeley Mews,” “Dead End Street” and “This Is Where I Belong” pretty high in my very long list of favorite Kinks songs. As you said, it is an excellent album for neophytes and makes for a great listening experience.

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      1. I’ve really enjoyed your Kinks reviews, even when I’ve had my disagreements — and I think that’s the measure of an excellent review, that it’s enlightening and worth reading despite your differences with it. Since you say you’re taking a pass on Kronikles, I’ll just take the opportunity to 2nd your appreciation of “This Is Where I Belong”, which counts among the band’s best songs as far as I’m concerned. One of the great things about it — and I think it’s a hallmark of Ray’s skills as a singer — is that it always sounds to me as if Ray is trying to convince himself to believe his assertions of wholeness and contentment. He’s singing the song in an effort to make himself feel that way, not to express a feeling he’s already achieved. Black Francis covered this song, and he’s incredibly talented, but I think his cover misses this nuance and flattens the song out emotionally.

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        1. Beautifully put—as much as I love him, Black Francis doesn’t hit the mark on that song. I think your perceptions about Ray’s ambivalence about the achievement of happiness are dead on; he’s a sensitive skeptic, capable of perceiving both the joy and the risk in the same experience, one quality that gives his work its unusual and often surprising depth.

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  5. Well, [smugly] I have it on 8 track.

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  6. […] Classic Music Review: The Great Lost Kinks Album (altrockchick.com) […]

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  7. […] The Great Lost Kinks Album […]

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  8. Once again, some thoughtful comments on the Kinks!!!!

    I like this album a lot. I bought it years ago on vinyl at a yard sale and fell in love with it. As you mention, a lot of the tracks are rough sounding and seemingly unfinished, but that is part of the charm of it. To me, it’s almost like a bootleg of outtakes – at first I thought it was except for the Reprise label. There is some really pretty songs on it and some funny ones as well. “Turn Off The Living Room Light”, “Groovy Movies” and “Plastic Man” is kinda cute – it’s Ray’s commentary on boring people I guess, but it lacks his usual wit. It doesn’t sound like he is totally committed to it (and admits as much in some interview that I read or maybe his semi autobiography “X-Ray”). I love “The Way Love Used To Be” as well – absolutely beautiful strings and Ray sings it with heart. “I’m Not Like Everybody Else” is a great song despite Dave singing it way flat. He has attitude, but I would have rather heard Ray sing it. When he comes in at the end you can spot the difference in commitment (and quality) right away. I love the songs that were “lost” from Village Green: “Misty Water”, “Rosemary Rose” (which maybe fits it with “Something Else” musically more than VGPS, but since it’s a character sketch, you can imagine it as someone from the village) and “Lavender Hill”. Since they are all on the 3 disc VGPS set, you get to hear them somewhat in the context of that album, but they are no less effective here as “orphans”. Unlike you, I really love “Mr. Songbird”, but I agree with your assessment of it being a bit too cheery. I mostly love the mellotron fills that are there. Also too, the chord sequences on a lot of these (and many of his songs to be fair, not just on this album) are very unique, going way past the usual I-IV-V progressions. I wanted to learn how to play a bunch of these songs, and are they strange. One of the things that sets Ray apart from almost all of the other writers from that period is his uniqueness in using odd chord sequences – and his lyrics which as you have mentioned before that were completely different from the Beatles, Stones et al.

    Yeah, it’s rough and ragged, but like you say, there are many great songs here that keep you interested. Obviously Ray was still in the middle of his “classic” mode of writing and it shows – even his rejects sound great. In fact, I would go one further and say that a better production might have spoiled some of these songs – the rough demo quality kinda adds to the charm.

    While it may have been compiled and released without Ray’s involvement or knowledge, at least it was compiled and annotated by Kinks fanatic and critic John Mendelssohn. (Look up his reviews for the first 2 Led Zeppelin albums in Rolling Stone. They are funny as hell – and I love Zeppelin). Obviously it was a labor of love, so it wasn’t really some old out of touch Reprise hack slapping stuff together at random to make a few bucks. And considering that Ray later released almost all these on different cd’s as bonus tracks, he couldn’t have been all that embarrassed by them.

    I have got a bootleg copy of this album on cd with several bonus tracks added – “Polly”, “King Kong” an alternate take of “Tin Soldier Man” (called “Sand On My Shoes”) and a couple more tracks. Very interesting, and I am sure that if a couple of the bonus tracks hadn’t appeared on the “Kinks Kronkles” they would have appeared on TGLKA. They are great tracks that would have improved the album a lot.

    Incidentally, this review is how I came across your site. Fun stuff and always insightful reviews – even if I don’t always agree with your thoughts. You make good observations as to why you are not a fan of something instead of “it sucks because I said so”. Always fun reading your reviews and reading thoughts on something that I might not have considered. (Thinking mainly of your White Album and Abbey Road reviews. Blasphemy!!!! Ha ha ha!!!)

    Thanks again!!!!

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    1. The Abbey Road review was indeed blasphemous, as it has a sacred status with people who lived during that time period: the swan song of the Fab Four. My father was almost apoplectic about that review and ripped me a new one. I’ve learned that generational attachments to music are very powerful indeed, but much more so with The Sixties because the music wasn’t just music—it was an expression of a new world vision. I respect that, but I still hear the music through my generational filters and the album really doesn’t work for me. That said, most of the people I know in my generation are ardent Beatles and Kinks fans; not so much Stones fans. I think the lack of appreciation for The Stones has to do with their endless string of “this could be the last time” tours.

      But more than any other composer from that generation, Ray Davies produced a rich and wonderful catalog that you could spend years exploring and never get bored. We can debate certain choices and the value of some of his works, but the fact that we’re debating them shows that they still matter, fifty years later.

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      1. I was born in 1970, so I came too late for “being there”. I don’t have any of the sentimental attachments to the music because it brings back any memories of those times. In a lot of ways, I think this is a good thing, because I feel that it might cloud your judgement too much if your love for music is too connected with the times. Personally speaking of course. Obviously, I will remember certain things and emotions of the first time I heard Sgt. Pepper because everyone has their own unique memories of certain things, but I am glad in a lot of ways that my memories of the Beatles, Kinks and others is not bound up in “those times”. Obviously, personal memories of certain events can cloud your perceptions of the true artistic worth of music – and sometimes that can affect what you might think about it historically. Do I love “Time Passages” by Al Stewart today because it is a great song, or is it clouded by happy memories I have as a kid listening to that song on the radio going on family vacations? Hard to tell sometimes, so I am glad that I discovered the classics far removed from the time in which they were created because I am not tied to events that surrounded their creation or release.

        Ian MacDonald’s book “Revolution In The Head” was overly critical of the last few Beatles albums too, and I know friends of mine who are not fussy on the later stuff. I am not in love with Abbey Road, but I do think it is really good…I think I’m just a little tired of it. All my Beatlemaniac friends used to play it all the time, so I’ve really got to be in the mood to hear it. Let It Be….well, besides a few songs it never was considered great, although if some lesser band did it, it would probably be a classic. As you said, it was the Beatles, and they had such a high standard, it’s no wonder it was a disappointment. The White Album, as I mentioned in my comments is my favorite. I understand why you and others don’t like it, but it still moves me 30 + years after first hearing it.

        And the Stones….well, I agree. I love the Stones too, their classic stuff. I couldn’t even listen to A Bigger Bang all the way through. I tried several times, but I couldn’t. I love Exiles more than you do, and I like a lotta weird shit with the Stones (for example, I really get off on Satanic Majesties – I know, I know, maybe just because it is just so odd for the Stones and they never went back to it), and I like a lot of scattered tracks off other albums that I have even Stones freaks giving me shit for. But no shit, the Stones are really just a joke now. One of the best things about the Beatles is that they broke up when they did instead of going on like the Stones. We can debate the merits of the last couple of albums, but they are still considered classics. With every new tour or album, the Stones legacy gets buried just a little more and clouds the virtues of some of their greatest stuff to a whole new generation of listeners.

        I know this is a Kinks review, but I just wanted to make a few comments on your comments on the Beatles and Stones.

        I don’t know a lot of people who are Kinks fanatics, (besides the ones I have shown their work to) unlike the Beatles and Stones. When I play VGPS or Arthur or other stuff, I love seeing the amazed look on their face and the “Holy fuck, where can I get this?” comments that inevitably follow. That’s another thing I love about the Kinks – it’s not so overplayed or overdone on radio or at parties or something, so whenever I go back to it, it’s still fresh, as opposed to Abbey Road. Unlike the Beatles where everything is dissected to pieces and it is awful hard to find any hidden corners anymore, the Kinks discography has so many of these little hidden gems and unknown tracks that when you find them, it’s a revelation. One of the great things about TGLKA is that the whole thing is almost a hidden corner!!! I felt that way when I first heard it and still do. Almost a quaint little painting that find hidden in the corner of your attic when you are looking for something else (no pun intended) and it makes you smile. Maybe that is one of the reasons that the Kinks resonate with me so much – because so much of it is stuff that you find almost by surprise when you least expect it. Ray always had a unique viewpoint that differed from almost everybody else (like I say – look at late ’68: Electric Ladyland, Beggar’s Banquet, the White Album…….and VGPS) and while it is frustrating to know that this work of genius is under appreciated, it’s also comforting to know that Ray didn’t care and followed his vision despite suspecting that it wouldn’t sell, but also we can hear it “fresh” without having heard it for 45 years over and over and over on classic rock radio. (For example, I love Lola, You Really Got Me, All Day And All Of The Night, but I am also tired of hearing them over and over on classic rock radio. No fear of VGPS getting over played like that!!!!)

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  9. them blurred lines that robin thicke sings about sounds like he may have heard emotional rescue at some point.

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  10. > I firmly believe the artist should have full control over the release of his or her art. So, I’ll skip “Til Death Do Us Part” <

    OK, but at least you kan review the song! It was oficially released on the (exceedingly rare) soundtrack album to the English TV show it was featured in, with the same accompaniment by the Kinks and a horn section, but sung by Chas Mills.

    I kan detekt shades of Weill/Brecht's "Bilbao Song", but, like always, our Ray makes it his own!

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    1. Hmm. I’m working on The Kink Kontroversy right now. . .

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  11. Another goodie and a review I’d overlooked until now. Weren’t The Kinks wonderful?

    Ray hated this album and apparently did everything he could to get it deleted which as you point out being the artiste he was right to exercise his power of veto, yet the staggering thing is, even though most of this material were cast-offs he would had preferred to remain forever unheard, the quality of much of them is far superior to any of the albums during not just the dreaded Arista era but also way better than what many a bigger name tossed off and became “revered” pieces of work that sold millions.

    In the UK since it was never released – and remains so to this day – this was pretty much the Kinks’ holy grail until the tracks began to appear scattered across CD reissues as it would go for insane prices I could never afford hence it wasn’t until the CD’s I finally got to acquaint myself with those songs. Of them all, my personal fave is “Misty Water” because it’s so downright inanely catchy… one listen and that chorus sticks in your head! The only one I still can’t warm to is “Lavender Hill” which I think dated from the “Autumn Almanac” era and was briefly considered as a single… I’m thankful that didn’t happen as it would most definitely had flopped in the UK because it’s too dreary in tone. Two or three of these songs, notably “When I Turn Out The Living Room Light” were written specifically for some late night TV show barely anyone watched (and as far as I know have all been wiped from the BBC archives) and it’s ridiculous that Ray was writing interesting witty stuff like this designed to be heard just once on the original broadcast then never be heard again since they deserved more than one listen to enjoy and savour them. It’s bizarre that Ray regarded them as mere throwaways he wished to keep hidden.

    However, the greatest moment on this album still has to be “I’m Not Like Everybody Else” which for me, is the ultimate outsider anthem – existential angst a decade before punk made it fashionable. I was born an outcast and will die an outcast and this gem is in many ways my personal anthem as it speaks for me just as much today as it did when I was a kid, teen and a young adult. The real touch of genius with this one is that Ray gave it to Dave to sing which was a brilliant move as Dave had that snotty attitude, anger and arrogance the song demanded to pull it off and by the time the song ends, Dave has truly made his point and there’s no chance you’re gonna argue with him! That was one devastating killer single with the glorious “Sunny Afternoon” on the A side and this punky snarl on the flip showing two very different sides of The Kinks that it’s hard to believe both songs were by the same band.

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    1. And I still find it fucking amazing that Eric Burdon turned down “I’m Not Like Everybody Else.” What a dipshit.

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      1. Having read Burdon’s memoirs and other tales about his time in The Animals one can’t help but conclude he was an obnoxious and unpleasant prick and I think if push came to shove, he’d agree. Yeah… he turned down that brilliant song then tossed off drivel like “Sky Pilot” which tells us all we need to know about his idea of quality control… another reason why he hasn’t had any hits since 1970! He did some great stuff in his prime but not the sort of person I’d have gotten along with.

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