Ray Davies - High Wycombe Swan Theatre - 6/3/01
5/5
By: Toby L
We at rockfeedback are prepared to visit the shows other websites or music publications catering for a youth culture aren't willing to look at. We know that the great music available on offer today could only have evolved from the people of the past - the legendary Ray Davies certainly helped move music onwards, for example.
To motivate us into the spirit, Davies bellows, 'C'mon! It's a Tuesday night in High Wycombe!' The crowd let off a mediocre cheer and you know why ex-Kinks mainman, Ray, is trying extra hard to perform tonight.
A fine repertoire of early 1900 hits - lounge faves and the cheese of 'Leaning On A Lamp-post' - greets the seated audience here tonight in the modern Swan theatre. The crowd, comprised of former 60's wildchilds and rebels, has now turned into perhaps what they all mocked in the first place - family men and white-haired citizens: i.e. the establishment. A small stage space houses five guitars and various monitors, surrounding pushed-together chairs. The lights dimmed, the welcome-onstage music is thumping and the stage was empty of humans - when, suddenly, the tribal dance grooves stop in a halt, and Ray potters on to a polite reception.
Peering at his array of guitars, Ray asks himself aloud, 'Hmm... What should I go for..? The red? No... The blonde,' - picks it up - 'Yeah, the blonde,' and fires straight into crowd favourite 'Sunny Afternoon'. As this show - and, indeed, the current UK tour - is billed as 'Ray Davies - The Storyteller', in between tracks sees the living legend recalling on his younger years on his rise to fame in the golden age of the rock 'n' roll British Invasion in the 60's. Helped competently by lead guitarist Peter Mattheson, the duo embark through this 'odyssey' by the reading of extracts from a thick, black book charting Ray Davies' work in showbizness, as well as in the performance of songs - both old and new.
It's all impeccably well rehearsed, from the very way that Mattheson strums away at varying volumes during Ray's monologue, should there be a glitch in the fluency which Ray Davies speaks in, to the jokes on himself ('I like to keep up with modern fashion,' he utters, as he stands in front of almost 1,000 people with receding hair and a typically mod suit). His tale of success is very intriguing: one wonders if it's all actually true! He reveals that his first career path was to lead on to him becoming a footballer, playing for Arsenal, 'which was a shame because I'm a Spurs fan (rival team).' However, this possible fate was affected due to an injury he sustained once in a game, where he was - quite simply - given 'a kick up the arse'. But so serious was this kick, that if he continued to play football at the rate in which he was indulging himself, his back would have been ruined. His following ode to London life unravels his feelings on the UK capital, including one spot in particular, as the North Londoner sings, 'If it happens to be a clear day on Highgate Hill/I'll be there...'
Ray also discusses his first performance in a band, as a three-piece, as they played to a ballroom filled with 'one thousand teddy-boys'. All guitars were plugged into the band's first speaker-outlet - the eight watt, green amplifier made legendary amongst the band members themselves - and were so unimpressive that they were dragged offstage after two pints were thrown at them - sounds like a modern day Oasis concert. At the warmer applause and reaction the act was now receiving, Ray shouted, 'Wycombe ROCKS!' However, he went on, 'Last night I had to say, 'Charlton rocks,' and... it does in some way, I guess...' As he works his way through stripped down, but still sublime versions of his greatest hits, ('A Well Respected Man', 'Dedicated Follower of Fashion' being amongst them), it's impossible not to wonder how his voice is so strong after all these years - in fact, it's worth going on to say that it's better now after thirty years in the business that it was when The Kinks first jumped on to the scene.
After placing an advert in the now deceased 'Melody Maker', the North London boys, Ray, Pete and Dave met up with Mick Avery, a drummer, and although he was perfect for the job, there was one pit-fall: he was from 'SOUTH (pronounced 'sarf') LONDON'. When Mick saw the band for the first time, his initial comment was, 'You're all poofs, ain't yer?' But, despite that, as excitedly screamed by Ray, 'THE KINKS WERE FORMED!' He modestly follows this up, by commenting, 'Not the greatest event of the twentieth century, but still...' However, with the talent and tunes they displayed, it's virtually fair to say that, for the UK music scene, it really was one of the major occurrences of the century. If you were present here tonight, you wouldn't deny it.
Closing the show with tales of The Kinks' many rises and falls within their career, it's rounded off perfectly with swell renditions of the stomping 'Lola' and the still beautiful (and one of the best songs ever written) 'Waterloo Sunset'. However, this show - apart from the odd bit of new material here and there - was formed only from the past and what went on. Recognising this, Ray poignantly comments on what it would be like if 'You Really Got Me' was number one forever: that night he found out it was a hit is something that he can never forget - and a night that he probably wishes would remain in his life forever. But, as long as we have the memories, it'll always be there - not just for him, but for us too.
This deliverance spent thirty years in the making - and it shows.
Artists in this article: Ray Davies
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