Music Review: Ray Davies - Working Man's Cafe - Page 2

As a satirist, frankly, Davies is always sharper when the grudge is personal – like in “No One Listen,” a punchy diatribe against the bureaucratic process. It’s clearly drawn from Davies own 2004 experience after being shot by a mugger in New Orleans, the howl of frustration in his voice echoed by a snarly electric guitar.

The thoroughly charming “Morphine Song” is a music-hall-tinged bit of absurdist comedy which Davies wrote during an extended hospital recovery after the shooting. With its female back-up chorus and horn section, the sound harks back to Preservation – not only the Kinks’ mid-'70s rock operas of that name but also the jazz hall in New Orleans.

Despite its John Lennon-like title and Neil Young-ish arrangement, the track “Peace In Our Time” has nothing to do with the war in Iraq — no, it’s a domestic battleground Davies is complaining about: “the living room’s a wreck from all the rows / The atmosphere is stifled with aggression / Ultimatums, deadlines, and depression.” As usual, he manages to make himself out to be more sinned against than sinning. (Note to self: never break up with someone in person, just write a devastating rock song and your revenge will be complete.)

Relationship songs, in fact, constitute most of the album. (Pretty cool, being a rock star in your sixties and still writing songs about your tumultuous love affairs.) “You’re Asking Me” dances warily around some younger person asking Davies for advice – he could be addressing an adoring musical acolyte or a child, but I’m betting it’s a much-younger girlfriend. It’s a jumpy, edgy track, fighting off that Wise Old Man mantle that Davies clearly doesn’t aspire to; Davies almost seems to be channeling early David Bowie here, which is plenty ironic, given that Bowie started out modeling himself on the Kinks.

Like a mood poem, “In A Moment” tries to capture that tipping point when a love affair first goes sour. The genial loping rhythm of this track unfortunately undercuts any sense of loss; Davies scores better with “Imaginary Man,” a genuinely plaintive lament from a man who realizes that his own slippery sense of self leaves him incapable of living up to a lover’s expectations. A truly fresh insight on relationships – how often do we get that anymore? For this song alone, the whole album is worth buying.

Article Author: Holly Hughes

Holly A Hughes has been a rock 'n roll fan since February 9, 1964. She's heard it all, on vinyl, cassettes, 8-track tapes, CDs, and mp3 files. But so long as it's got a good beat, she'll dance to it.

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