And so begins the slow, sad denouement of the Kinks’ career. The band gives up their ambitions (and some would pompous pretensions) and begin a comfortable groove, or rut, of arena rock. Not that it is entirely terrible, there are few good tracks scattered here and there amongst these albums. It’s just the commercial aspirations are so blatant that title tracks such as Low Budget and Give The People What They Want practically become manifestos.

And they were semi-successful in that arena, although nowhere nearly as influential as they were in the sixties. Like many bands of the era, the Kinks succumbed to disco-fever in the late-70s with (Wish) I Could Fly Like Superman. It’s certainly no more embarrassing than the Rolling Stones’ Miss You or Paul McCartney’s Goodnight Tonight. Definitely a notch above the Grateful Dead’s Shakedown Street or Rod Stewart’s Do Ya Think I’m Sexy?

In the nascent days of MTV, when the cable channel had more airtime to fill than artists had video to show, the Kinks experienced a minor career boost with the video for Come Dancing. It was an odd time for MTV, as it was inadvertently making stars out of such surprising acts as Devo and Herbie Hancock.

Other songs took a while to find a home and see success, such as Living On A Thin Line, which didn’t do much in 1985, but appeared on The Sopranos a number of times decades later. They also managed to create one of the most successful rip-offs of an earlier song since All Day And All Of The Night with Destroyer which steals the riff from that song while giving the character of Lola a belated sequel.

Still lots of these years feel like trend-chasing. There probably would’ve been enough material for two hour-long playlists if all these albums were available on Spotify, especially the underappreciated UK Jive. By the nineties, the Kinks made one last attempt at relevance by trying to cash-in on the “Unplugged” craze with To The Bone, after which the terminal and tempestuous in-fighting finally broke the band apart. Although there have been plenty of rumors and threats of reunions recently; we’ll see what actually happens.

Now that Lola had resuscitated the Kinks’ career and the lifting of the union ban had allowed the band to return to America, Ray Davies decided to take advantage of the creative freedom afforded him; pushing past mere concept albums into full-blown rock operas.

For most Kinks fans, this era of their career is the most worthy of dismissal and derision.  But personally I’ve always like this stretch of albums. Particularly their first, and most ambitious, project “Preservation.”

A lot of the issues people have with this particular rock opera stem from the awkward way it was released.  In order to tell the full tale, Ray was going to need three LPs as well as a single and a couple of outtakes that didn’t quite fit.  Unfortunately, when the record company deadline hit, the band were only happy with about half of what they’d done. So they were forced to release the single-disc Preservation Act 1, featuring their most straightforward songs presented in an incorrect and unfinished order.  If that wasn’t confusing enough, a year later it was followed by Preservation Act 2, a double-album of the rest of the rock-opera, compromising of the more experimental and expository musical interludes and interrupted by faux-radio broadcasts and other snippets of spoken dialogue that did nothing to clarify the plot.Needless to say neither Act 1 or Act 2 were particularly successful, commercially or critically.  Although those who saw concerts during this tour, with all the songs in the correct order and with sets and costumes and props, say that the live show was far superior to the albums.  They certainly show the Kinks trying a variety of styles and genres in an attempt to differentiate the various characters who populated the narrative. There’s the clueless pastor extolling the virtues of Cricket and the hypocritical busybodies who see themselves as the Shepherds Of The Nation.  There’s even a lovely prelude with Morning Song.  I think a lot of the confusion stems from the fact that Ray is playing multiple characters (including Mr. Flash and Mr. Black) and whatever other talents he may possess, acting isn’t one of them.

Rather than being discouraged by the failure of Preservation, Ray kept on rolling. His next rock-opera, was based on a BBC teleplay that, unlike Arthur, was actually produced. Soap Opera tells a story that is half “Prince & The Pauper” and half “Trading Places” with an ending out of “Fight Club.” It’s the tale of some magical rock-star named The Starmaker who believes he can make anyone famous, so he trades places with some ordinary schlub; living his life, doing his boring office job, and sleeping with his wife. While this is only revealed in the TV movie and not the album itself – it turns out that The Starmaker is just a schizo-delusional alter ego of the average guy who is just trying to make himself feel better or more important. But the bulk of the album takes place within the confines of this boring, 9-to-5 existence, with tales of rush hour traffic, and happy hours after work. There’s even a whole song about the guy going on vacation and having a short affair. The strangest song, is just a complain by The Starmaker about his new wife’s horrible choice of interior decorating as exemplified by a painting of ducks in mid-flight. Even though Soap Opera was only one disc instead of three, it was still flop critically and commercially.

The final Kinks rock opera, Schoolboys In Disgrace, features their all-time worst album cover. It also attempts to be both a prequel to Preservation as well as a sequel to The Village Green Preservation Society (which is not a rock-opera). Still the desperate attempt to tie together their most beloved album with their most despised into one long, overarching narrative fails to hold water. Of the rock-opera albums, it is my least favorite. Still there are a few good songs on there.

No surprise this album was their fourth bust in a row. The Kinks had spent all of the goodwill they had built up at the beginning of the decade and were now saddled with trying to rebuild their career and re-energize their fan base once more.

The Kinks always seemed like the most British of the British Invasion bands. And there’s a good reason for that. After their first, short, disastrous tour of the US, the Musicians’ Union banned the Kinks from America for the entirety of their sixties heyday. Perhaps the Union was really concerned with all these immigrants coming and stealing American rock’n’roll jobs, or maybe they really did violate some sort of by-law. Certainly, the Beatles were too big to kick out, and bands like the Hollies were too innocuous. Besides there was always something about the Kinks that got under certain people’s skins. The Stones may have been “the most dangerous band” but the Kinks were something even worse… subversive. The name was not an innocent mistake or a calculated attempt to manufacture outrage; there was something kinky about this band. Especially for the time, they were far more comfortable to with playing with gender and sexual orientation than most folks were comfortable with until David Bowie and Elton John came along. So they were banned from the USA.

As a result the Kinks became very insular and inward-focused. They recorded an album that became frequently cited as their high-water mark, The Kinks Are Village Green Preservation Society, an album chock-full of odes an older, quieter, quainter way of life. Make Britain great again (uh-oh!). While the album did their usual fair-to-middling sales, it has gone on to become their most critically lauded album. Personally I prefer Arthur slightly, but I can see why this album was seen as so remarkable at the time. Most post-Sgt Pepper concept album were about pushing boundaries and experimenting with psychedelics, so it was quite a shock to hear a rock band sing about such bucolic topics. Exactly how sincere or ironic the Kinks were on this album depends on which member of the band you asked, but it’s success encouraged main songwriter Ray Davies to go even farther on their next album.

That album would be Arthur (or The Decline and Fall of the British Empire). The album was initially written and recorded to accompany an unproduced teleplay about a family who is forced to repatriate from England to Australia and their trials and tribulations. A new bassist may have influenced the band, who have a larger harder, heavier edge on this record than the last one. Or maybe they were all getting bored with Ray’s concept Album shenanigans.

From here, Ray wrote a whole album about a topic that was really near and dear to his heart: his money. Given that the Kinks various managers and agents had screwed them over in a manner second only to Badfinger, Ray had a lot to say about the subject on Lola vs. Powerman and the MoneyGoRound, vol. 1. Oddly enough it was one of the few songs not about the Kinks’ financial situation that actually gave their career a second wind no one excepted from a song about a cross-dresser. Sure, it may not have aged that well, but for the time it was both progressive and provocative. And coming at the cusp of the whole glam rock scene, the track ended up replenishing the coffers that Ray was so preoccupied with. Not only were the Kinks back on the charts, but the Musicians’ Union finally lifted their ban, allowing the Kinks to (belatedly) conquer America. Although first they had to knock out the soundtrack to a BBC TV movie about the inner dialogue of an anthropomorphic penis (seriously!).

Becoming rich and famous again, immediately made Ray want to retreat to the rural hillside. Their next concept album Muswell Hillbillies is essentially the English equivalent of country music. Lots of acoustic guitars. Lots of songs about having a nervous breakdown from the stress of modern life. And the inevitability that this escape wouldn’t last.

It didn’t last. Soon the Kinks were becoming hardened road warriors. Their next album, Everybody’s In Show-Biz is yet again a concept album. This was a double album with one disc being a live record from their recent tour, and the other disc being a studio album about the rigors and hardships of touring. Keeping with Ray’s skewed priorities and perspective, there are like three or four songs about how bad the food is. Still the live half of the album shows how much fun the Kinks have playing in front of a large audience, and how big and theatrical their new show was. That had even added a horn section on tour. So of course, the Kinks were now going to go back to writing straightforward, arena rock classics, that the whole crowd can sing along with.

Right?

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, so it’s only appropriate that we get a little kinky…

The Kinks career can be roughly divided into four acts. In the first act, they are just another garage band caught up in the wave of of English bands imported to America in the wake of Beatlemania. While most of the bands of the “British Invasion” were little more than flashes in the pan (Gerry & The Pacemakers, the Buckinghams), some of them turned out to have lasting careers (like The Who or the Rolling Stones), while others turned out to be extremely talented and innovative (like The Zombies). The Kinks managed to do both things while never quite reaching the upper echelons of rock stardom.

Like most bands, the Kinks were initially a garage rock band. After a couple of false starts, the band really took off with their third single, the proto-punk classic You Really Got Me. It is a stable of garage rock bands everywhere, and includes one of the future guitar solos that I actually like. In an attempt to maintain their success, Their next single was All Day And All Of The Night, which managed the nifty trick of both copying the last song pretty closely and still being enjoyable on its own. While they could’ve kept mining this vein, Ray Davies and the band knew that this would be limited and looking at the Beatles continued growth decided to expand their sound. Sure, the would still be rockers like Till The End Of The Day, but they would also try their hands at ballads. Most of these songs would have lyrics of a traditional romantic nature.

But the Kinks had yet another card up their sleeve. While never as twee as someone like Herman’s Hermits, they did have an affinity for musical hall, which they deployed to mock the squares, the establishment, and “anybody over 30” as was popular at the time. While songs like A Well Respected Man or Dedicated Follower Of Fashion were pretty mean-spirited and simplistic, as Ray started writing from more of a first person point-of-view, these songs became a little more sympathetic and nuanced, starting with the lovable cad at the center of Sunny Afternoon until reaching its apex with Waterloo Sunset.

While The Kinks continued to grow and experiment, they (like most bands at the time) were primarily singles- and not album-based. But the undeniable influence of the Beatles, whose commitment to the long player format was seen as a challenge, spurred the Kinks on to make albums that were less filler-filled and more cohesive. Albums like Face To Face and Something Else hold up to most of their contemporaries at the time. They are also the last albums of this earlier, straight-forward period of the Kinks. Next week we will get into the Kink’s “Concept Album Phase” with the recording of their version of Sgt. Pepper’s or Pet Sounds or Forever Changes or Odyssey & Oracle.

Next week stop picking on the squares and start defending them. Next week the Kinks ARE The Village Green Preservation Society.