20th Century Man: An Evening With Ray Davies
Ray Davies has always seemed to have an inferiority complex. Pursuing an almost indescribably up and down career with the Kinks and a series of ambitious but usually ill-fated solo projects, Davies boasts a jaw-dropping resumé of hit songs. And with the possible exception of Bob Dylan and Neil Young, he’s the one survivor of 60s rock who hasn’t sold out, betrayed, or otherwise fucked over his legacy.
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Pete Townshend essentially undermined the entire spirit of the Who’s music with his horrid Broadway musical Tommy and collected a mess of Tony Awards for his troubles; Paul McCartney helped his old bandmates fend off the bankruptcy attorneys with some singularly boring excavation work and some grave-robbing, ELO-wannabe collaborations with John Lennon; and what’s to be said about Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, and their Steel Wheelchairs tours? But somehow–whether as a result of bad career advice, questionable choices, or his own quirky personality–long-term mainstream acceptance has eluded Davies. His widely anticipated 1988 musical 80 Days (directed by Des McAnuff of Tommy infamy) about Jules Verne’s Around the World in 80 Days was coolly received on the west coast and disappeared. And though every video store I know stocks some of the most obscure, unbelievable shit you can imagine, just try finding Davies’s impressionistic film Return to Waterloo at your neighborhood Blockbuster. All this would be a lot easier to stomach had Davies ever been content with his seemingly permanent outsider status.
Surprisingly, the streamlined, edited, and more good-natured version of that concert, which Davies has brought to the Apollo Theater as a one-man-show-in-progress called 20th Century Man: An Evening With Ray Davies, is a terrifically entertaining and moving evening of music and theater. Though spotty in parts and rough around the edges, it could represent an exciting new direction that doesn’t involve either retirement or playing to a half-empty UIC Pavilion. Obviously more comfortable with the material, Davies proves a spellbinding storyteller as well as a first-rate song stylist. This evening of classic songs, overlooked oddities, and new loping narratives sprinkled among self-analyses, fond reminiscences of growing up in England, and witty tales of pop-star life suggests that Davies could conceivably be reincarnated as a brilliant troubadour on the theatrical circuit, a sort of macho Quentin Crisp with a guitar–if and only if he can come to terms with this role himself.
