"Wasting dreams I almost threw away”, that little song's nice, pure Ray, the most Kinks he’s sounded in years… except it doesn’t sound like the Kinks at all but like an old jazz/blues number that he didn’t care to translate into a baroque’n pop number, like he used to in the sixties. What’s missing here is precisely what was so special back in the day, his ability to mask the blues origins of his tunes to make them more… original. That’s the whole idea behind it in this Americana context, I guess, to show where it all came from and where it’s all leading to. But it makes me miss the pop element. What I like best is his almost defiant repeat of "do we ?" after "and we don't wanna walk into trouble do we?", meaning he'd still walk into trouble with a grin, if he knew he could then walk out of it like he used to. The man who used to sing Welcome to Sleazy Town is still there, somewhere, right around the corner.
This is the first song I really noticed on this album, and it's one of my favorites. I acknowledge the fact that @Fortuleo just made brilliantly clear, that it's a traditional blues/jazz rather than a pop translation of it; but I really like that it is so, both in context and in itself. It also reminded me of some of what I listened of Dylan's 21s century stuff, as @croquetlawns said (Moonlight on Love & Theft came to mind, if I'm not mixing up titles). The most American thing in this song may not so much be the music, though, than this "pull yourself by your bootstraps" mindset which is expressed in the lyrics. It's another thematic streak of Ray's creative journey, that always made me smile. Ray the cynical working-class observer could be expected to sneer at this as self-developmental rubbish, but he doesn't. Maybe because in the course of his life, he must have come to experiment the large part of truth that lies in this "positive thinking" attitude, more than the way it can be used to make people feel bad when they fail, or to erode social awareness with false individual hopes. It's a surprisingly bright side of Ray's personality, and I think it complements his picture in a very pleasant way. Edit: this also sends me back to my own privileged life, which allowed me to wallow in self-pity and melancholia for unduly long periods of time. Making fun of positive thinking is a luxury of well-off bourgeois from countries with a comfortable social security net. Anyway, I really like this song, I rank it as one of the really good surprises on this album.
"A Street Called Hope" Listening to this just now, it struck me that it's quite similar in structure to "Sunny Afternoon"...but it's most definitely not "Sunny Afternoon". It's just a pleasant but unremarkable jazz/blues number, lacking/avoiding the magic that would make it into a Kinks song. The sleeve and label of the vinyl lists this one as the opening track of Side C, but it's actually at the end of Side B - which is where it belongs. A bit of optimism/self-motivation following his big getaway, before the darkness of Side C takes over.
A Street Called Hope An intro of sliding chords resolving on a familiar descending blues line and Ray is off with his thoughts on a bright breezy stroll. Here he is literally performing that old black magic that is American by tradition and universal in its enjoyment. We hear Karen's Piano forte (instead of her vocal one) tinkling Jazzy lines and little barrelhouse rolls and her fills conjure images of a Songbird singing as Ray walks but this time we hear no flute!
A Street Called Hope - This style seems to suit Ray. Like Dylan, Nick Lowe and the like, an aging musician harks back to the basics- in this case cocktail jazz. An upbeat outlook and a jaunty tune. I can imagine Ray doing a whole record with this kind backing. Very nice.
"A Street Called Hope" and "The Empty Room" together seem like our hero pausing to take stock of his life. Anxious, alone and adrift now, he's broken off with his family, "Rory" and perhaps most importantly, his band. "I'm avoiding every dark side street" is an interesting line; it could be ironic in the sense that he's later going to go down that street and take a bullet. It may have a religious undertone as well, as a metaphor for sin; and the "hope" he sings of can be thought of as faith; and once you are saved you can leave anxiety behind, relax and look forward to a heavenly paradise in the future. In contrast, the "The Empty Room" presents an eastern point of view, using the empty room as a metaphor for a mind free of attachments, no longer haunted by memories of the past or anxiety for the future, with focus on the present "right in front of you". So in both these songs it seems he's trying on different religious and philosophical ideas to see if they can provide meaning and direction for his life. But he is unable to reconcile their contradictions and he remains lost; so he floats down the river, towards New Orleans and the abyss.
The Empty Room The Mystery Room Places where you are trapped inside a room of some description. A Streett Called Hope Less restricted, more Room for movement, able to move forward. "Avoiding every dark side street" Certainly has a sort of preemptive feeling in regards to the shooting, but also points backwards to the distractions that have somewhat made his path more disjointed than it may have been.... Then we have the album scenario of how the shooting went down, as he was lured by lust, then left on the street corner wishing the big guy had been there to guide and protect him. There's much more going on in this album than instantly meets the eye
‘A Street Called Hope’: A breezy shuffle, there’s multiple instances when it reminds me of something…before slipping away. “Outta here…” the way Ray sings that, I just can’t place it now. I cannot see any imprint of The Jayhawks on this particular track but, if they’re on it, it shows how well-rounded they are. Ray’s vocal is rather jaunty, a sharp contrast to the general mood of introspection and world weariness of the tracks we’ve listened to so far. edit: Dr. John! That’s the “outta here” voice
“A Street Called Hope”: As the other Avids have said, it’s a jaunty, jazzy, an almost 1940s type of song that accentuates the positive, kind of like “Look A Little On The Sunny Side of Life” on Everyone’s In Show Biz.
A Street Called Hope: Reaquainting myself to Vol II, a few weeks ago I listened to the album a couple of times in the car, and then this morning I listened on A Street... on headphones. Picking the subtleties back up did this track a world of good. In particular, the organ and guitar jel together beautifully and make a great foundation for Karen's piano and Ray's aged yet breezy vocal. This isn't an all star but it's perfectly pleasant. If Ray were to do a whole album of this sort of thing, I would definitely welcome it but I would hope he'd throw in a few more bells and whistles. I think that's my only issue with Street, I want a clarinet solo or something (just like "Heard That Beat Before" from the last album, actually). Listening to this on CD, you lose sight of this one being the last track on side B. That is fascinating, as I mentally associate this vibe of track much more strongly with the song that follows.
A Street Called Hope Really like the old school jazzy groove and melody that perfectly captures the figurative and literal walking down street vibe here complete with its semi walking bass line. While not exactly the same chords or intervals, this reminds me of Little Miss Queen Of Darkness with its staccato on the beat accents of the groove that likewise go and down and back around in terms of changes and melody. Note that the Jayhawks do not appear on this track, but it is the same musicians that recorded I've Heard That Beat Before from the previous album, so these two songs go together in my mind for the musical style connection the two tracks share in common as well as lyrical content and concept even though Ray choose to separate them on the different albums. Nice change of pace yet again here in the middle letting us know things are changing and right now all seems hopeful and good with a bright positive attitude that may or may sustain when put to the test.
A Street Called Hope Yes I thought of Sunny Side too but that one's soaked in bitter irony, which I don't find here. I like how it recalls some of his forays into this kind of tune before, but plays it straight (or as straight as he can play it) - I don't hear irony or sneering or detached amusement, it feels like he's truly enjoying a moment of unadulterated optimism. That goes very well with his "old" voice, and my only quibble is that he tries to stretch it a couple of times, and I want him to just sink into it and accept and explore it (like he does in a few places here as well). I love the idea of a guy in his seventies finally declaring that all his old anxiety was "fake" and resolving to live the rest of his life unshackled by fear, hate, and negativity.
A Street Called Hope A nice breezy old time jazz blues number, certainly in keeping with being in New Orleans. I've heard lots of songs like this, but can't really come up with a specific example at the moment. Nice sunny optimistic lyrics. Ray trying to accentuate the positive - but there does seem to be a little foreshadowing of the trouble up ahead, with his references to dark side streets and hate-filled alleyways. This works well, and serves its purpose in the context of the album, though it's not a track that I'd necessarily think about reaching for on its own.
A Street Called Hope This is one of the best tracks on the album. The music has a playful, upbeat jazz-meets-blues feel which makes me think of New Orleans and the music I associate that city with. To me, knowing what happened to Ray there, this adds a slightly ominous mood which blends well with the lyrics. The narrator is feeling optimistic walking on a street called hope and is aiming to not let fears and anxieties trouble him, but is also very well aware that there are darker and more dangerous streets nearby, making his optimism anything but secure. I think the metaphors are very effective in the lyrics and Ray's singing captures all the subtle nuances. A great song in every way.
The Empty Room. In a room called desolation That resembles a Tomb It's here we find our hero The subject of this tune He gets up from the table He walks across the room He looks out of the window At the clouds of gloom He turns and sees a mirror Reflecting someone he once knew He feels his nose and mouth and whispers Who are you? No memories to haunt him No ghost to exorcise No pictures on the table To bring sentimental tears to his eyes The past belongs to those possessions Obligations and the ties Forced on him so long ago Now he's waving them goodbye And he doesn't feel pathetic He's not such a loser after all That empty room can't torture him, 'cos he's dispossessed it all Everybody needs an empty room Nostalgic memories, they'll drive you to doom Lose all of those attachments Start again, and very soon You'll find yourself just thinking Of the life in front of you Be happy and contented In that empty room Everybody needs an empty room Those nostalgic memories They'll drive you to doom Lose all of those attachments Start again, and very soon You'll find yourself just thinking Of the life in front of you Be happy and contented In that empty room Written by: Ray Davies Published by: DavRay Music Ltd./Sony ATV Music Publishing Here we go straight to some New Orleans style blues/jazz... It's interesting to me thinking about it that a lot of New Orleans music seems to blend blues and jazz to the point of being barely distinguishable from each other. This is a really interesting lyric, because it seems like it is based on someone else, and more significantly it seems like someone else that Ray wishes he was, or could be... Unless I'm misreading him, or taking his songs too literally as part of who he is, it seems like Ray is filled with sentimentality, and if he is not, then his writing is even more remarkable. It feels like he may even be suggesting that his roaming through the US was perhaps triggered by a need to get the history out of his mind. When you live somewhere all your life, and have a series of particularly negative incidents, then all across the place where you live will be reminders of those things that stir up sentimental feelings ... whether positive or negative. The idea of flying to another country where they don't exist is somewhat like removing a series of triggers. Addicts recovering from their addiction fullwell know that hanging out with certain people, going to certain places, even hearing certain music can work as a trigger to send them back on that journey they need to escape.... and in many ways we all have thoughts and memories best evaded due to the negative impact they have on us. and unless I'm missing something that seems to be the angle of the song. This guy has a room with no trinkets to work as reminders of missteps, hurts. All the sentimentality has been erased to prevent it from keeping him locked in a past that may not be so fruitful to moving forward. But on the other hand we open with the lines A room called desolation... that resembles a tomb... So it seems like it certainly isn't all beer and skittles. He looks out his window and sees nothing but gloom.... is this a reference to the UK? the weather? the state of the world? He looks in the mirror and doesn't recognise himself anymore... even feeling his face as if to check that it is really him. I really don't know, but it almost, again seems like Ray could be referring to himself. Estranged from his brother to some degree around the time of the writing here. Seemingly unable to hold a relationship? It seems doubtful that when Ray moved to the US that he would have brought all his "stuff'" with him... is he examining himself here, via the idea of this mystery hero who has removed all sentimentality from his sight, in order to move forward? The tilt of the song is removing all the stuff that keeps your mind thinking about the past, in order for you to move forward. Now although not all the memories are generally bad, and we can look on our bits and pieces and smile about the time .... and what that meant to us, but we aren't necessarily trapped by that... yet if the majority of the stuff brings us negative reflections and pain? well that's another matter.... Is this Ray suggesting that part of his movement to the US was to escape the ghosts that haunt him? Sure he was inspired by things in the US via movies and music as a kid, but it isn't like we move to countries to live because we saw a cool movie from there when we were pups.... generally speaking.... Was Ray moving towards a childhood dream, or running away from an adult nightmare? Is that why he is walking down a street called hope? Is that why he is trying to define The Real World? Is that why he is suggesting he will get there? The run of sentimentality, following the interaction with the maneater, seems to perhaps point in that direction .... but is obviously just speculation on my part. An interesting series of songs that seem to change the angle of this journey considerably.
The Empty Room At first I was mistaken into thinking the opening stanzas were from a hospital room post shooting. This songs vocal doesn't mesh as well with its musical backing as yesterday's number did and somewhere along the line i get a slowed Gallon Of Gas vibe which i don't even wish to be sentimental about sped up! I don't see why one has to jettison all these possessions and nostalgic reminders unless they are all solely negative and even so starting with a totally empty room is a bit bleak as you have to look from scratch for things that mean something to you instead of the gradual replacement of one thing for another which is more normal and certainly less extreme. So no i don't think everybody needs an empty room however our protagonist does and wishes to spell us out that warning given his issues ya know!
A Street Called Hope This is a pleasant jazz shuffle which, like others, had me thinking of the late Dylan albums - especially Love and Theft. In the context of the album, I find it a nice change of pace. The Empty Room Continuing on the jazzy theme, here Ray does a good job of crooning. This is the opposite of the shouty Ray of the eighties. I'm not sure what Ray is referring to in the lyrics apart from the wish or need to rule a line under the past and start with a clean slate. The full lyrics are printed at the start of Chapter 1 of Ray's book in which he talks about his move to New Orleans. The clue to the song could be at the end of the chapter when Ray says he was trying to write a song called The Art of Moving On which had the first line "I must remember never to say I remember." Ray says "My problem was that I kept remembering - and it wasn't all good. I stared up at the fan in the ceiling going around and around like a wheel, which put me in a hypnotic state. Time and place didn't seem to matter." So maybe this is just Ray's song about trying to write a different song.
The Empty Room - Ray settles in with the jazz and blues again, this time with a vamp feel. He makes the case for letting go of nostalgia with a nostalgic sounding tune. Very appropriate coming from Ray. As I age, I find more and more nostalgia for the music and movies of my youth, old photographs and memories of friends and family. At the same time, I can see wanting a clean slate to put bad memories behind you.
As @Steve62 just said (as I was typing what follows), The Empty room is the title of the first chapter in the Americana book. The complete lyrics are quoted first, and then the chapter's all about Ray going to New Orleans and finding new "characters" to write freshly about. No "writing about englishness" anymore he says (in essence), he could let go of the old characters because he found new ones that were just as inspiring. And then he caps things up saying "I was in my creative “Empty Room,” and I was only going to fill it with things I actually needed, not things that were there just to be collected. There would be no more surplus in my life. I felt confident I had found the place that could be my spiritual home." Not quite what I thought it was about, I must admit. Like @All Down The Line, I thought the room was a reference to his post shooting days at the hospital. The table ? It could've been the operating table, from which he would "get up" mentally to assess his own situation. But whatever the meaning, it’s a song that can’t be separated from what we all know about Ray Davies, the man and the songwriter. A man who was nostalgic before even being old enough, nostalgic for his childhood, for times he hadn't known himself and for things he hadn't lived yet, nostalgic in advance for a present that he could never frame and keep intact. Where were they now, the good Days or Moments ? When he sings about being “contented” in his empty room, well, that’s the most un-Ray thing I’ve ever heard. So much so that it’s all about him, of course : the guy known for never being “content” about anything and whose room is always full, because he can’t help but empathize with… the world, which probably makes him one of the most egoist persons ever, for those closest to him at least. Before that he sings this line: "No pictures on the table To bring sentimental tears to his eyes". Maybe I get it wrong, but it would mean that "sentimental tears" are not a good thing in his mind, because they're not profound but superficial stuff. Can he let go of (or even free himself from) that kind of impairing sentimentality ? Interestingly enough, he already criticized this kind of "fake" or shallow sentimentality in his collection of 1968 pictures songs. But we love sentimental Ray, don't we ? I do. So it's a weird feeling hearing him declaring that he doesn't want to be that guy anymore. Musically, it's another pure New Orleans styled trad jazz tune, no Jayhawks in sight (or hearing distance), I said yesterday that this type of cabaret jazz isn’t my favorite cup of Ray Davies tea. I love it when he appropriates styles and makes them his own, less so when he does them so proficiently and “professionally”. But it’s hard to deny that it’s a good track. And I agree with the Dylan comparison made yesterday by some of my esteemed Thread colleagues and friends. Ray may live in his songs, but here (and in most of the Americana project), he’s writing in musical styles that predate his own influence (like Bob has been doing this whole century), probably to liberate himself from his own imprint. I guess that’s what the empty room’s all about. Fortunately (?), despite all his best efforts, "home" will come back to haunt him again tomorrow, in the form of an old familiar "friend song".
‘The Empty Room’: We’re in the stretch of the record that seems like it’s abandoned the “band” aspect of the storyline and is very personal to Ray. (Which Ray confirms in the interview posted by @ajsmith upthread.) The lyrics, I suppose, are more interesting to me than the gloomy, rather darkly ponderous, music. We’re in a section of the album that I, to be honest, find boring. And, as a stage musical, might be falling asleep.
OT but the latest Kinks at my house are a soon to be delivered UK 7" single from 1964 that you all know and love complete with a forwarding invoice........ Secondly I appreciate all the Avids recently wishing me the best of health luck and to take care however late on Sunday night I had a 3kg speaker complete a 180° tumble from a desk and land on my foot, fortunately an ice pack arrested things from turning black in colour!
That haunting, enigmatic line will be heard at the end of tomorrow's song, and I find its vagueness and uncertainty of meaning very appealing in that context.
“The Empty Room”: Ray and Brian Wilson have written songs about being in rooms, but while Brian writes about being in a room as being comforting and a refuge from the outside world, Ray uses the concept of the room for different reasons, none of them seem comforting at all. It seems that Ray wants to clean out his bad memories like a colonoscopy of the mind and start afresh. Anyway, another blues/jazz hybrid song that plods along agreeably. I did get to read Ray’s interview in the latest issue of Uncut and it seems that he wants to concentrate on theatrical projects in the future, especially on Preservation, rather than any recording projects in the future, which is a shame. Also, his comment about going to marketing for an Arista and beyond Journey project seems to me to be shorthand for “fuggetaboutit”. Finally, get well wishes to Avid All Down the Line in recovering from his speaker accident. Hope he gets hopping again in no time. What were you listening to that would cause the speaker to fall, Hackneyed Diamonds or Muswell Hillbillies? As Albert King used to say, if it wasn’t for bad luck, you would have no luck at all .
