The Classic Album series brings back must-have albums from the '60s and '70s that are as good now as they were when they were first released
Paul Williams, Rolling Stone JUNE 14, 1969
The Kinks "The Kinks Are the Village Green Preservation Society"
I certainly love the Kinks; it’s been fifteen months since I’ve had a new Kinks album in my house, and though I’ve been listening to them I’ve missed that pleasure. Bob played The Village Green Preservation Society for me when he bought a British copy, about a month ago, and I’ve played it twice since it arrived here this afternoon, and already the songs are slipping into my mind, each new hearing is a combined joy, of renewal and discovery. Such a joy, to make new friends! And each and every song Ray Davies has written is a different friend to me.
Ray makes statements, he says the sort of stuff that makes you delighted just to know that someone would say stuff like that. “As long as I gaze on Waterloo Sunset I won’t feel afraid.” “I’ll remember everything you said to me.” “There’s too much on my mind, and I can’t sleep at night thinking about it.” “There’s a crack up in the ceiling.” “I’m not content to be with you in the daytime.” “The world keeps going ’round.” “I’m on an island.” “You just can’t stop it, the world keeps going ’round.”
Oh, wonderful Kinks. They remind me of Erik Satie. “We are the Village Green Preservation Society.” The vocal is under-recorded, so you turn up the volume. The bass and drums sound so easy and sure. Everyone’s determined; no one’s in a hurry. “What more can we do?” Such very fine vocals. The tune, the rhythm, are more of a delight with each verse. Dave Davies’ lead lines are never wasted. It would be unbearable that the song’s over, but here’s another. “Walter, isn’t it a shame our little world has changed?” Now why is it Ray’s songs always sound like something else, a different something else with each song and sometimes with each hearing? Sure, he’s the world’s master plagiarist, but it’s more than that. It’s more a feeling that it’s all part of the same thing, it’s all music and isn’t it nice to run a cross this melody again? And it is, it’s never a repetition, it’s always some sort of opening. Ray Davies makes you realize how much there is all around us, waiting to be explored and explored again. Boredom? Every place you’ve been is a new frontier, now that you’re someone different.
It doesn’t matter what I say, I’m just happy to be writing about my boys. Ray, Dave, Pete and Mick: I’ve bought their every album as it’s been released, and that’s four years now and ten albums, every one satisfactory and worth far more than double your money back. “I’m the last of the steam-powered trains.” The song is completely itself, but you can’t overlook even on the first hearing the fact that it’s Howling Wolf’s “Smokestack Lightning.” And that makes me smile, good old Kinks, finally recording “Smokestack Lightning,” and a good job of it too. A little fancy kineticism in the break, harmonica and bass and lead buildup, just so you know all the old tricks are as relevant to their music as any new tricks they might enjoy could be. They even throw on a “‘Til the End of the Day” ending, and that’s not the second time they’ve done that. Might be the fifth.
Each Kinks song a friend. I really mean that. I can lie in my bed thinking about “Love Me Till the Sun Shines,” and I wonder when I’ll hear it again, happy at the thought of its existence. Hearing “Big Sky” on this new album, I know we’ll get along just fine. “I think of the big sky and nothing matters much to me.” This is true, an experience I’ve shared. “Big sky’s too big to sympathize; big sky’s too occupied, though he would like to try.” What a fine modification of Stephen Crane. And who but Ray Davies would share my interest in the theme of “The Open Boat”?
You can dance to the Kinks. Move your arms up and down as you walk across the room to get a glass of water. Bob your head. Get up and rhumba. I don’t know what a rhumba is, but it sounds right, and you know that’s all that matters.
Have you ever listened to The Live Kinks? It’s almost musique concrete. Never has an audience so unselfconsciously part of the experience. Maybe because nothing could come off of a Kinks record that wasn’t part of their unique world-system, or maybe there’s some sort of real bond between Kinks-lovers the world over. I mean it’s not just some rock group. It’s more like a taste for fine wines from a certain valley, a devotion to a particular breed of cocker spaniel. How many people are there who would feel good to know that “Waterloo Sunset”‘s Terry and Julie are Terrence Stamp and Julie Christie — that its, they inspired the names, by appearing together in Far from the Madding Crowd? How many would understand not feeling afraid, as long as you gaze on that sunset? We’re a select few, no doubt, so we may as well love each other and stick together.
Village Green Preservation Society is available on vinyl in the Store