Ray Davies: kink in the armour

Here's another recent review that I'm waiting for The Fly to post on its site. In 2007, Ray Davies put on one of the most enjoyable shows I've seen. He played loads of old Kinks hits and belted them out with genuine enthusiasm. His voice was spot on and all the new tracks, from his solo album 'Other People's Lives', sounded great. I saw him again years later and he was just going through the motions, tossing off the likes of Lola with all the enthusiasm of a man who's been obliged to play the songs for about 40 years. I decided not to pay to see him again and only covered this show out of curiosity. It was a fun night, but I should probably have passed on it and continued to think of him as he was in five years ago.

Ray Davies

Glasgow Royal Concert Hall

12/10/12

After sheepishly asking our permission to play new material, a surprisingly self aware Ray Davies retracts his request on the grounds that tonight's audience has turned up purely in the hope of hearing decades old Kinks classics. Gone, it seems, is the misanthrope who penned 1981's sneering 'Give the People What they Want', not to mention the music industry survivor with two stellar solo albums under his belt. The Ray Davies of 2012 is an unrepentant crowd pleaser and wastes little time before dusting off the hits.

Stripped down renditions of 'Sunny Afternoon' and 'Dedicated Follower of Fashion' arrive early in the set and prompt mass sing-alongs, as do inevitable full band performances of 'Lola' and 'Till the End of the Day'. However, while the crowd's goodwill toward the performer is infectious, there's no mistaking the fact that he's sleepwalking through the material. The lyrics to 'Autumn Almanac' are repeatedly fluffed, while an a capella link between 'Where Have All the Good Times Gone?' and 'Tired of Waiting for You' seems careless and unfocussed, Davies absent mindedly veering from hit to hit with little sense of purpose.

The three most recent songs come from 1971's underrated Muswell Hillbillies album and are played with refreshing conviction, 'Oklahoma, USA' in particular. The ironic triumphalism of 'Victoria' feels especially pointed following the singer's turn at the Olympics' closing ceremony, while 'Waterloo Sunset' is presented before us with the love of a proud parent. Davies is clearly still capable of hitting the mark whenever the mood strikes him and, churlish as it may seem to complain about too nostalgic a set from one of the greatest singles acts of his time, sells himself short by bowing down to obligation. Not that tonight's audience notices, bellowing out each word with evangelical fervour. Whatever the evening's shortcomings, Ray Davies has earned himself a lifetime pass and, for most, just to be in the same room as him is an honour in itself.

Lewis Porteous