By Ray Davies
As a boy in post-War England, mythical Kinks' singer/songwriter Ray Davies fell in love with America--its videos and track, its tradition of freedom, fed his mind's eye. Then, as a part of the British Invasion, he toured the USA with the Kinks in the course of some of the most tumultuous eras in fresh history--until the Kinks staff was once banned from appearing there from 1965-69. Many excursions and journeys later, whereas residing in New Orleans, he skilled a transformative occasion: the capturing (a results of a botched theft) that almost took his existence. In Americana, Davies attempts to make feel of his lengthy love-hate dating with the rustic that either encouraged and annoyed him. From his quintessentially English standpoint as a Kink, Davies--with candor, humor, and wit--takes us on a truly own highway journey via his existence and storied occupation as a rock famous person, and divulges what song, status, and the United States rather suggest to him. essentially the most attention-grabbing characters in fresh popular culture make appearances, from the well-known to the possibly even-more-interesting behind-the-scenes gamers. The booklet additionally encompasses a photographic insert with photos from Davies's personal assortment from the band's archive.
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Extra resources for Americana - The Kinks, The Road and The Perfect Riff
My suitcases were in storage, I was afraid to move on and throw away the past, yet at the same time I was scared to live in the moment and uncertain about the future. One thing was for sure: I knew I couldn’t die. That would be too corny. I had to live through this. My own song played on the car stereo and seemed to add a soundtrack of foreboding that summed up my predicament: “So high in the sky while down here I just wonder why Am I part of nature’s scheme or just a man in a machine? Burning oil and turning wheels Living in denial chasing the dream Running faster and faster but running out of steam Living the illusion accelerating past The world in a blur but we’re finishing fast so I fly on the wings of fantasy …” I sneezed.
My life was in danger; for all I know I was already dead. Now the songs I’d been trying to put together kept going around in my head as if to torment me, and they took me back to where this mess began. It had all happened in what seemed like a flicker of a moment, and suddenly here I was, just stuck here with drip feeds and wires sticking out of me. I was safe—for the time being, at least. And the morphine was good…. 1 THE EMPTY ROOM “In a room called desolation that resembles a tomb It’s here we find our hero, the subject of this tune He gets up from the table he walks across the room He looks out of the window at the clouds of gloom He turns and sees a mirror reflecting someone he once knew He feels his nose and mouth and whispers who are you?
Paul. When I was kid and played guitar with my brother Dave we often sang a song called “Big River” by one of our heroes, Johnny Cash, who claimed in the song to have met a woman accidently in a bar in St. Paul. That coincidence settled it for me; even though in Mr. Cash’s song “Big River” he ended up crying floods of tears for “that” woman, I was still not deterred. I hoped that I would survive. But who was I kidding? I didn’t need anyone to cause my downfall—I was more than capable of causing it myself.
Americana - The Kinks, The Road and The Perfect Riff by Ray Davies