Moonbats Pay Trippy Tribute to '60s Era Kinks - by Anne Marie

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Expectations were running high Friday night as Natalie's Coal-Fired Pizza and Live Music filled to SRO and bartenders Jeremey + Jeremey shimmied to the '60s tunes that blasted from the bar speakers. But more than a handful of folks sported Moonbats t-shirts and only one dude wore a Kinks shirt. Hmmm. Table seating for this show sold out the same day it posted on the Natalie’s calendar which I’d never seen happen before, but now that I was here, I could tell this was due in large part to Mitch (in Moonbats t-shirt) and his party of thirty (30!!!) there to celebrate his 70th birthday. Women in floral high heel boots stood shoulder to shoulder with a group of young-at-heart septuagenarians, one of whom a bit tipsily confided to me that they had met Mitch and first seen The Moonbats play when they were here from Florida a few months back and had now ventured north on a special adventure to see the band play again and celebrate with Mitch.

Ricki C's cousin Robbie C.

Ricki C's cousin Robbie C.

You could tell the crowd was primed for a good time when the brief sound check received a raucous reception. Sixties cover band The Moonbats’ first ever Kinks show opened with You Really Got Me and went straight into Tired of Waiting for You.  I know they played Dedicated Follower of Fashion and I think it was next followed by Waterloo Sunset.  I was distracted around that time noticing that one of the servers was a Ricki C. doppelgänger and attempting (fairly unsuccessfully) to snap of photo of him for proof. Colin showed up in time for All Day & All of the Night, followed by Sunny Afternoon, Victoria (best Kinks song of the night for me), then ?? (uh-oh, I was either still jumping around from Victoria or ordering another drink here), David Watts and Lola as the big finale to the first set. I stayed for about five songs into the second set - none of which were Kinks songs - and the best of which, by far, was The Moonbats covering The Doors.  I’d definitely go see The Moonbats again: and if they ever do another Kinks tribute, I’d encourage them to go a bit deeper and pull Kinks songs for the second set as well.  Some Mother’s Son (I love my protest songs), Destroyer, Superman, Father Christmas, Set Me Free… I'm sure you all have your favorites.

Anne Marie covers the Wexner Center and other stuff for Pencilstorm.

How The Kinks Captured the Reason for the Season - by James A. Baumann

Holiday music is one of those things that is truly difficult to judge on its own merits. So much of the experience of hearing it is framed around setting and context. And, when you consider that much of the setting and context of holiday music – at least in today’s America – is based around the retail experience, well, it’s fighting an uphill battle from the get-go.

This concept first began to settle in my mind around 1990. If memory serves, that was the first Christmas that I worked at a family-owned flower shop, doing deliveries, handling shipments, and cleaning out the backroom. The money was good and needed. But it also meant weeks of driving on icy streets, frozen fingers and toes, and 12-hour-long working days; during most of which I was surrounded by Christmas music. 

When I was out in the delivery van I had free reign to listen to whatever I wanted. I made good use of the radio’s volume knob as well as the Sony Walkman and scattered tapes that sat on the passenger seat. But when I was in the store, I was at the mercy of what was playing.

The store was too small to splurge on a Muzak system, so the playlist was about three cassettes that would continually play through tinny speakers. From time to time someone would remember to switch them out, but when things were busy one tape would just play through again and again. It should be noted that this was also about the time that the world discovered that you could program dog barks to sound like “Jingle Bells.” It would have been like the music they play to break up hostage situations except I wasn’t allowed to leave.

Flash-forward to 2002 or 2003. I’m in the middle of my first day-to-day office job that would eventually be capped off by that corporate tradition of the lay-off. Before that, though, I also had to navigate the corporate tradition of office holiday decorations and – as most germane to this topic – the holiday-music-obsessed co-worker. Her name was Megan. She was smart, fun, nice, and really was about all one could ask for in an officemate save for the fact that, starting at Thanksgiving, her radio was locked-in to the Columbus radio station Sunny 95 and their all-Christmas music format. Headphones could only block so much. I quickly needed a coping mechanism.

I took my inspiration from Steve McQueen in “The Great Escape” who passed his time in isolation by bouncing a ball and counting the days with tally marks on the wall. I commandeered an erasable white board and began my own count of how many times particular songs were played. It quickly began to fill up with the more popular titles and rows of hash marks.

Springsteen’s “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” had to have been the tote board leader. Needless to say, I never again have to hear the Boss asking me if I’ve been good this year. Close behind was probably Paul McCartney’s “Wonderful Christmastime” which – particularly after it being drummed into your head for a month straight – comes dangerously close to undoing all goodwill he had ever built up with the Beatles. I’m sure I was inundated by the Mariah Carey song, though I swear I can’t think of a note of it right now.

I suppose a highlight would have been when David Bowie and Bing Crosby’s “Little Drummer Boy” would come up on the playlist, but mostly because it was as though David Lynch had been given control of the holiday for a moment.

All of this may lead one to think I am opposed to all holiday music. That is not true. Year after year, I would get misty during Darlene Love’s annual appearance on Letterman to sing  “Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home).” The Pretenders’ “2000 Miles” is stirring. Who doesn’t like John Lennon’s “Merry Xmas (War Is Over)?” “Fairytale of New York” remains a poetic short story with backing music. And, at the risk of sounding like a Pencilstorm suck-up, I will comfortably put Watershed’s “Still Love Christmas,” with its sleigh bells and Casio keyboards, in this neighborhood. 

This all brings me to The Kinks’ “Father Christmas,” my unquestioned favorite holiday song. There are several reasons for this, not the least of which is it rocks with the buzzsaw guitar and thunderstorm drums that kicks it off. Plus, there is the added benefit that, due to the face-value of its lyrical content, it rarely, if ever, makes it onto any piped-in holiday music set. It remains pure and unsullied in my mind.

One might deem me a Scrooge for loving a song that denies the existence of Santa within the first 20 words, but stick with it. The protagonist still revels in his childhood presents and, once he reaches adulthood, even takes the time to be a Salvation Army Santa in his neighborhood.

Granted, he is promptly mugged by a group of street urchins who profess their need for cold, hard cash versus typical playthings. But could a Kinks’ Christmas song have any other sentiment? 

This is Ray Davies’ England after the Village Green was paved over and Muswell Hill was flattened. Even still, he never looses the true spirit of the season. The threats and complaints of the kids are bookended between blissful memories of his childhood Christmas and then gentle, adult reminder that, even if you’re doing pretty good this year, there is someone out there who isn’t. 

Probably someone forced to listen to those dogs barking “Jingle Bells.” - James A. Baumann


THE KINKS – FATHER CHRISTMAS  (video below)

When I was small I believed in Santa Claus
Though I knew it was my dad
And I would hang up my stocking at Christmas
Open my presents and I'd be glad

But the last time I played Father Christmas
I stood outside a department store
A gang of kids came over and mugged me
And knocked my reindeer to the floor

They said
Father Christmas, give us some money
Don't mess around with those silly toys
We'll beat you up if you don't hand it over
We want your bread so don't make us annoyed
Give all the toys to the little rich boys

Don't give my brother a Steve Austin outfit
Don't give my sister a cuddly toy
We don't want a jigsaw or Monopoly money
We only want the real McCoy

Father Christmas, give us some money
We'll beat you up if you make us annoyed
Father Christmas, give us some money
Don't mess around with those silly toys

But give my daddy a job 'cause he needs one
He's got lots of mouths to feed
But if you've got one I'll have a machine gun
So I can scare all the kids on the street

Father Christmas, give us some money
We got no time for your silly toys
We'll beat you up if you don't hand it over
Give all the toys to the little rich boys

Have yourself a merry merry Christmas
Have yourself a good time
But remember the kids who got nothin'
While you're drinkin' down your wine

Father Christmas, give us some money
We got no time for your silly toys
Father Christmas, please hand it over
We'll beat you up so don't make us annoyed

Father Christmas, give us some money
We got no time for your silly toys
We'll beat you up if you don't hand it over
We want your bread so don't make us annoyed
Give all the toys to the little rich boys

The Kinks (Ray Davies) on German TV in 1977 "father Christmas"....Father Christmas, give us some money Don't mess around with those silly toys.

One of the best Christmas songs EVER !!! ******************************************************* When I was small I believed in Santa Claus Though I knew it was my dad And I would hang up my stocking at Christmas Open my presents and I'd be glad But the last time I played Father Christmas I stood outside a department store A gang of kids came over and mugged me And knocked my reindeer to the floor They said: Father Christmas, give us some money Don't mess around with those silly toys.


Ray Davies is the Best Songwriter Exhibit K - Colin G.

Click here for previous Ray Davies is the best story 

Life After Breakfast - Ray Davies

It's been a while since we checked in with our sporadic Sunday morning Ray Davies series, so let's jump back in with "Is There Life After Breakfast?" from Ray's first solo record, Other People's Lives.

In my opinion, one of the factors that sets the great songwriters apart is being able to write songs that can make you laugh out loud. Writing ballads is easy.  In fact, it is so easy that in the history of rock and roll, only three bands have never written a decent "sad song." The first two are The Hives and AC/DC, who have avoided ballads by design. The third band is the Red Hot Chilli Peppers, who have somehow managed to avoid writing good songs in any tempo, mood or genre. Other than that, chances are that even the bar band around the corner can break out a decent tear- jerker written by their bass player sometime after his second divorce.

But to be funny, that is the next level. Or "The Chuck Berry Level" as those in the business call it. Reasonable people can disagree on whether Ray Davies is truly the best songwriter ever (he is) but I would suggest he is truly the funniest songwriter ever. Unless Weird Al counts.

I might be biased towards the song Life After Breakfast because I own a coffee shop and it has been my observation that as humans near the age of 70, meals become the primary source of pleasure. In fact, we become so excited for meal time, we just can't wait and start rushing everything. Breakfast is at 6:30 am, lunch at 11:15 am and dinner at 4:30 pm. After that I suppose it's just FOX News until bed with a bowl of ice cream around 8 pm. In the words of Mick 'n' Keith: what a drag it is getting old.

Song and lyrics below.

Uploaded by Giokebox on 2013-12-18.

Lift yourself out of the doldrums
Make yourself a cuppa tea
Drag your emotions out of the gutter
Don't wallow in self pity

When you wake up, all of a fluster
Thinking life has passed you by
Give yourself a kick up the backside
Jump out of bed and punch the sky

Is there life after breakfast
Full of possibilities
Is there life after breakfast?
Yes there is, after breakfast
So don't live in agony
Is there life after breakfast?
Yes there is, after breakfast

Cheer up son, put on the kettle
There's no point in being glum
Make your mind up, try to forget her
Boil the tea and I'll be mum

Is there life after breakfast?
Yes there is, after breakfast
So don't live in agony
Is there life after breakfast?
Yes there is, after breakfast

After breakfast
Life after breakfast
After breakfast

Just because all of the plumbing
Isn't all it used to be
Turn the tap, see, a little bit's coming
That must make you feel relieved

Don't turn into a total embarrassment
To your friends and family
Get out of bed, the whole day's ahead
So take the pills and drink your tea

Is there life after breakfast
Full of possibilities
Is there life after breakfast?
Yes there is, after breakfast
So don't be so depressive
Is there life after breakfast?
Yes there is, after breakfast



Read more: Ray Davies - Is There Life After Breakfast? Lyrics | MetroLyrics 

 

 

 

Ray Davies is the Best Songwriter: Exhibit I

We didn't forget about our semi-regular Sunday series systematically laying out the case why Ray Davies is the best songwriter ever in rock & roll, we just got busy. I put out a new tune, click here to listen, and with summer and gigs and the coffee shop and... anyway, let's get on with it.  Enjoy! - Colin G.

 

Click here for Ray Davies is the best songwriter exhibit H

 

The Kinks -  "Working at the Factory" written by Ray Davies

Sure, Think Visual isn't a masterpiece relative to other Kinks efforts, but as always, it has a number of gems scattered throughout. Considering this is TWENTY FIRST album released by The Kinks makes the it that much more impressive. Or put another way, has your favorite band released twenty- one records? That's what I thought. Get bent. Ray Davies is the best. 

The Kinks Working at the Factory

"Working At The Factory"
 

All my life, I've been a workin' man
When I was at school they said that's all you'll ever understand
No profession, I didn't figure in their plans
So they sent me down the factory to be a workin' man

All I lived for, all I lived for
All I lived for was to get out of the factory
Now I'm here seemingly free, but working at the factory

Then music came along and gave new life to me
And gave me hope back in 1963
The music came and set me free
From working at the factory

All I lived for, all I lived for
Was to get out of the factory
All I lived for, all I lived for
Was to get out of the factory

Never wanted to be like everybody else
But now there are so many like me sitting on the shelf
They sold us a dream but in reality
It was just another factory
I made the music, thought that it was mine
It made me free, but that was in another time
But then the corporations and the big combines
Turned musicians into factory workers on assembly lines

All we live for, all we live for
All we live for is to get out of the factory
We made the music to set ourselves free
From working at the factory

All my life I've put in a working day
Now it's sign the contract, get production on the way

Take the money, make the music pay
Working at the factory
All I lived for was to get out of the factory

Never wanted to be like everybody else
But now there are so many like me sitting on the shelf
They sold us a dream that in reality
Was just another factory

Working at the factory