The Kinks: Muswell Hillbillies

Though few noticed it at the time, The Kinks, the perennial also-ran act in the British Invasion of the '60s, reached its apex in 1968 with the release of The Kinks Are The Village Green Preservation Society. Conservative with a small "c," the album presents an elegy for an idyllic, small-town, unspoiled England that never really existed, but is easy to mourn. The album is nostalgic, but nostalgic in a manner so self-aware that it can't be faulted as simplistic. The mood of Village Green crept into subsequent releases, as evidenced by the first four titles in Velvel's reissue series of the band's '70s and '80s work for RCA. Of the four, 1971's Muswell Hillbillies is the first and finest. With Muswell, singer Ray Davies channels the anger bubbling under Village Green, finding the means to express it by incorporating elements of American country and country-blues music. Borrowing the title from the North London suburb of his childhood, Davies finds a psychic connection between his own background and American working-class music. "Here Come The People In Grey," a protest against the disappearance of working-class culture at the hands of those who could afford to make it disappear, announces the album's agenda in more direct, literal terms than heard on Village Green. While "20th Century Man," the angry expression of discontent that opens the album, is one of the most memorable songs here, and highlights are scattered throughout, it's the four near-perfect fusions of Brit-pop and American roots-rock which close the album ("Holloway Jail," "Oklahoma U.S.A.," "Uncle Son," and "Muswell Hillbilly") that make it unforgettable. On the heels of the smash single "Lola," Muswell Hillbillies was probably the last thing anyone expected. Now it just sounds, as Davies has dubbed it, "as good a record as The Kinks ever made." The same cannot be said of Everybody's In Showbiz. The song title "Here Comes Yet Another Day" practically announces that the 1972 album will be Kinks-by-numbers. Worse yet, its two halves contain two of the most dreaded album concepts in rock 'n' roll: the it-sucks-to-be-a-rock-star album and the dull concert album. "Celluloid Heroes," a maudlin trip down the Hollywood Walk Of Fame, was the unworthy hit single. After Showbiz, Davies concentrated his energy on the ill-conceived would-be masterpiece Preservation. A rock opera spread over two albums (1973's Preservation Act 1 and its sequel from the following year), Preservation concerns the machinations of the evil Mr. Flash to take over the lives of the nice, ordinary people. Opposing him is the shady Mr. Black, with various characters caught in the middle. At its worst, Preservation is self-parody: Davies' usually subtle songwriting doesn't lend itself well to the broad statements and increasingly prominent glam-rock influence found here. Still, Act 1 at least contains some great songs: "Morning Song" and "Daylight" suggest that with a bit more focus, Preservation might have been pulled off, and two songs sung by the Davies-like Tramp character ("Sweet Lady Genevieve" and "Where Are They Now") are fine Kinks songs with showtune aspirations. The sprawling Act 2, with its radio announcements and melodramatic, sub-Andrew Lloyd Weber musical numbers, is a wash, the sound of a once-great band losing the plot. But you can't fault The Kinks for lack of ambition, and you can't say Velvel Records didn't do right by even the lesser albums: Each of these releases is beautifully repackaged with extensive liner notes and bonus tracks. Aside from the lost classic Muswell Hillbillies, none represent the band at the height of its power. But as one of the most interesting—and frequently one of the best—pop groups ever, even The Kinks' lesser material deserves to be heard.