“I don’t want to see the legacy of The Kinks soured by two miserable old men doing it for the money,” says Dave Davies. In a series of frank interviews, Uncut discovers the state of The Kinks in the 21st Century – a saga involving Godfather-style confrontations, flamenco songs, cursed concep...
“I don’t think our love has diminished,” Dave says as we prepare to leave the East Finchley café. “I think the stage-play has played itself out a bit, the pretence and the acting. I think it’s time reality took over, and started directing the last years of… whatever it is. It’s like Cain and Abel.”
Back at Konk, I push Ray on his intentions for The Kinks’ 50th anniversary. People are picturing a triumphant anniversary gig, I tell him, with you, Dave and Mick back together. “Keep the flashbulbs ready,” he chuckles. “I think in true Kinks fashion we’ll save the great show for the Glasgow Assembly Rooms or somewhere. I wrote a piece years ago called ‘The Last Chord’. So I’m looking for the last great chord with The Kinks. I can’t do this forever. I want to do some gardening. I’m not quite sure whether it’ll be a film, or a book, or a happening, or a think-in. But some interaction will occur,” he assures me, as he sees me to the door.
Later, I ring Mick Avory at his home in Richmond. The drummer reveals just how advanced Ray’s plans for a reunion actually are. “Well, if we do gigs, or a gig,” he explains, “I think you’d call on the musicians who came through the group at the appropriate time, for the songs that they played on. That was one thing Ray touched on.” Presumably, latter-day Kinks John Dalton and Jim Rodford (bass), John Gosling and Ian Gibbons (keyboards) and Bob Henrit (drums) should put themselves on standby.
“I told Mick about that the other week,” Ray happily confirms in a phone call a few days later. “I think continuity’s important. You want to hear the drummer who played that fill on the record. If I was a fan of the band’s music, I’d like to see some of that. Everyone’s got an ideal gig. If you get 10% of what you really want it’ll be fantastic. I started playing Preservation, and I’d love to stage that properly. It could be an assembly of things, like the singles, and the well-known songs, and then go into the conceptualised pieces – see the complete arc of the band. And then end on some good new stuff. That’s the key to it. The interesting thing about good new stuff is if you can recognise its origins. That riff maybe came from a track called ‘Low Budget’, and it’s incorporated into something new and updated, using the same musicians. There’d be an evolution.”
It seems typically provocative of Ray to mention Preservation, one of the band’s concept albums from the early ’70s – a period Dave has a well-known dislike for. But when I call Dave in New York, he is equally bullish about which musicians he’d like to see play in a Kinks 50th anniversary lineup. “The question I always ask is, what the fuck is The Kinks?” he says. “In the beginning, there was me, Pete and Ray. OK? Maybe that was The Kinks. Maybe there isn’t a Kinks now. It’s been diluted, convoluted by all these members that have come in and out. I’d rather work with strangers. Or my son Russ, who’s an incredible talent, and my son Daniel. Rather than fishing for new people, maybe we’ve still got that DNA that made us what we’ve become. Maybe we could include our family in our new music.”
“If they have the Davies DNA in them, I definitely would not want to work with them,” says Ray when we speak for the last time at the end of November. Instead, it transpires that Ray is working diligently to get the real Kinks together again. “Ray sent us an email today, that it’d be an opportunity missed again if we don’t do something, and make a decision,” Avory reveals. “He said it’s down to me and Dave. All I can do is appeal to him, and see what he says.”
“It’s all the fucking emotions that go with it,” Dave sighs. “I don’t want to see the legacy of The Kinks soured by two fucking miserable old men doing it for the money. It’s going to sour the whole magic, if it’s not done with pure intent. Why break the spell, when I’ve spent most of my life trying to support that magic? Just to shit it all down the toilet. That’s what I don’t want to happen.”
“I know it all seems very confusing,” Ray admits. “‘It’s my idea, why don’t we do this? By the way, here are my demands.’ It’s difficult for Dave, because he thrives on confusion. My job in life is to harness it and turn it into something magical on record. I hope I’ve got the ability and staying power to do that again. One of my attributes is guile – with an element of compassion!” he laughs. “I’ll try and work something out.”
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