Misfits The opening track and the title track. It tries to be a big epic statement, and it's certainly a good enough song, but I think it falls somewhat short of pantheon status. I guess I keep waiting for a killer Ray Davies hook that never quite materializes -- it's just a well-constructed, well-performed, big, sweeping ballad covering familiar lyrical territory about those on the outside. It works well to set the theme of the album, in which all the other songs are about square pegs to one extent or the other. But, like I said, it's still a fine song. To my ears the best bit is the bridge, "Look at all the losers and the mad-eyed gazers...", which approaches the grandeur the song as a whole doesn't quite attain. And Dave's guitar is satisfyingly crunchy as always, if a bit understated this time around.
"Misfits" the song sounds to me like a template for better future works. The main melody was re-done for "Don't Forget To Dance" which I prefer a lot. The arrangement was re-used on Phobia's "The Informer" which not only has a better melody, but also lacks that ghastly polysynth. Sometimes I think the only one who could make good use of those late 70'es poly synths was Tony Banks.
So I'm going to be the grumpy one here, but this song doesn't do much for me. Reading the words, I can see why it's a moving statement on paper, but it fails to move me. The music is just too generic to my ears. I'm afraid Avid @Endicott's comment is the most positive I may get about this song on a sunny day. Some personal context may explain my immunity to this tune's charms. My father is an amateur songwriter who allegedly wrote more than a thousand songs. He's 84 now, and he goes on writing those. There are quite a lot of his songs that I love, and a few that I think are really good. But when you write songs on a day to day basis, it goes without saying that formula is never far away. And my father is a self-taught guitar and piano player who never went past a few fundamental chords. The fact that he composes mostly on guitar and decided very early on that he couldn't do barre chords sets severe limits to his compositional palette, and his really vivid melodic imagination is kind of constrained by these technical boundaries. What I'm getting at is, one of his formulas is the "you" song, where he talks about himself in the second person, and meanders somehow aimlessly around the same few chords to paint a lucid and amused portrait of himself, with varying degrees of success. I believe this song makes me think about those half-baked tunes of my fathers, that I feel are among his least interesting. "Is there life after breakfast", on Ray's "Other People's Lives", brings on the same impression, only much more strongly because the music is so my dad (edit: on a bad uninspired day). A pity because the words seem rather funny. This whole paragraph has no interest whatsoever for anyone but me but I got rid of the idea and I feel better. Cheaper than therapy. Edit : I really like the bridge, though.
Misfits: The school year was close to ending. Most nights, I was doing homework or writing my journal in my bedroom, which had become my bat cave thanks to my trusty Soundesign three-in-one stereo console and Radio Shack Nova 40 headphones (the only good product they made!). How many hours would I spend sitting on my bed, album in hand, lyrics sheet and song credits handy, listening to yet another rock album that was either already a classic or would attain classic status almost immediately? It was a nightly ritual that went on for years, almost like a religious service. One of those nights listening to WMMR, I heard a plaintive ballad start up that I hadn't heard before. First line about sleeping in a field ... I knew that was Ray Davies' voice but didn't know the song. From that first line, I could hear every line, and every line registered. In some sense, this was my life. Somebody got me in ways that most people didn't. I was a smart kid but not hanging with the smart kids. Athletic, but not hanging with the jocks. Related to stoners because of our shared taste in music. Yet didn't really belong with them. I had a similar group of stranded friends, nerdy guys (always guys, we were still afraid of girls) who tended to do quite well in school but didn't feel compelled to pledge alliance to any once social group. High school felt like war sometimes, a constant struggle to be on top. We wanted no part of it. "Misfits" let me know, you're not insane. There's nothing wrong with you for wanting no part of this silliness. The moments I recall most from high school are those where we all let down our guard and enjoyed each other's company, regardless of our social caste. As teenagers, we let it happen all the time as we were so much more open back then. But the inevitable curtain would drop again, and we'd all have to play our prescribed parts. I sat there listening to that song, another school year ending, and thinking, "No one is ever going to define a point in my life so directly as this song is doing now." And that held true (despite many close calls in the near future, particularly with Paul Westerberg). The song itself was beautifully constructed, the slow build and fade outs. One of my favorite songs from the moment I heard it and still is now. And it drove me nuts that I couldn't find it in the record store! But I would eventually. The odd thing? Years later, I would become actively involved in staging my high-school reunions. Somehow, I became friends with one of the cheerleaders, probably the most beautiful girl in the entire school, who hit harder times as a young adult, a blown marriage, left with a kid, struggling to survive. But, boy, did she know everybody, thanks to those cheerleading days! For some reason, the class president walked away from the reunion process after the first 10-year reunion, leaving a void, and she picked up the torch. My organizational skills came in handy. With another friend, who was also part of that weird, off-center group of kids, we went on to stage the next few reunions (with one overdue because of the pandemic). The reunions have taught me that we all felt like misfits, and all had moments where we felt cast out, weird and not belonging anywhere. It was shocking to hear cheerleaders and jocks declare this, but in reality, they were in the heat of that popularity battle all the time and more than likely bore more scars than someone who walked away from the battle completely. I can't tell you how many illuminating conversations I've had with people I didn't really know (or in some cases like) back then who I could see now are just every-day people trying to make the best of their lives. It all circled around to "the misfits are everywhere" line in the song. I loved that line in the song, but it wouldn't start making sense until years later.
Indeed ! In many ways, the adult world is so much softer than high school. It's been a real relief to get out of youth and start having normal relationships with people. Teenagers are scary. I know, I've got one at home, and 2 more waiting for their turn in due time.
Misfits: I hope I’m not going to hear that this is one of the songs deemed unworthy for Sleepwalker, culled and, perhaps as an afterthought, picked up and placed as the opener here. I assume not as, after all, it is the title track. Everyone has written brilliantly this morning and I’m quite moved by your thoughts. As @Fortuleo has noted, this is the third lp in a row that begins with a note of pensiveness so I don’t have any issue with this being the lead-off track. And it’s a brilliant one. It does seem vaguely familiar to me so I am wondering if it may have gotten FM radio play?
Misfits: not sure what the Hoff folks think of the guy, but this song really reminds me of Jackson Browne. The introspection, some of the text painting, the steady building melody and the adroitly played backing track (as Fortuleo highlighted, that opening acousting guitar is a delight) that wouldn't feel out of place performed by the Mellow Mafia... and to be clear, I mean this as a compliment. I'm glad Ray isn't Jackson Browne, but it's awesome that he can just pull that rabbit out of his hat. ... Pre-post edit (don't you love it when you realize something before you hit "reply"? I wish I could do that at work more often): This reminds me of Jackson Browne because the melody and verse chords are very reminiscent of "The Pretender". I don't hold that sort of thing against Ray (What has been will be again, and what has been done will be done again, there is nothing new under the sun) but it cheapens this one a little bit for me. Ugh, I feel conflicted now...
Yes, I purchased a vintage Modern Jazz Quintet album from 1966 in mono for my departing fellow employee. I think it was the first time I actually bought a vinyl record there in twenty odd years (I'm a CD guy). I felt like such a hipster!
Stellar version! Thanks for posting this and all of the other live versions you’ve been posting throughout the thread.
Yes, I thought the same thing, intended to put it to paper and then forgot as I read through the posts.
What does Bono have to do w/this? This is a Kinks thread, not a U2 one Also, I would also invoke the Sanity Clause, but as we learned from studying "Father Christmas", that there ain't no Sanity Clause!
Thank you, Avid Ajsmith. Again, I think it could have been taped by the Kinks themselves to pop in various TV shows like the Beatles did in 1965.
Today is laundry day and I've been reading all these great and groovy things from my fellow Avids about the title track from Misvfits, erm, Misfits, while waiting for loads of laundry to wash and dry. It did get plenty of radio play back in the day, especially on WBCN. I also like the song a lot, especially the acoustic guitar, which sounds like a Spanish guitar to me. The lyrics are also great and they can apply equally to Ray & the Kinks' history, as our Headmaster has so eloquently stated and our own circumstances. I too had a hard time in high school and have refused to go to any reunions, despite the fact that one of them was literally down the street, which makes Avid fspringer's account amazing and surprising. The only thing that I have a question about is if some Avids think that it wasn't a good choice to open the album, what would be the better choice?
Having reached Father Christmas I was going to photograph my 1977 UK Record Collector Reviews of the Kinks singles and post them here however technical issues now prevent this so.... Arista 97 Sleepwalker/Full Moon (March '77) Another change of contract brought the Kinks to Arista at the end of 1976. Early the following year came "Sleepwalker", their best album in years, previewed by this title track. The single updated the power of their early hits, and presented Ray Davies as a vampire rather than a social commentator. But despite radio and TV airplay, it didn't sell.
Thought triggered by above post: does anyone know if RCA (the nameless ones) tried to re-up their contract with Ray? Or were they indifferent to Ray being wooed by Clive Davis?
Arista 114 Jukebox Music/Sleepless Night (June '77) Another track from "Sleepwalker", "Jukebox Music" was fun but not essential listening, and it was probably released more in hope than expectation. The tragicomic "Life Goes On" might have been a more adventurous choice for a single.
Arista 153 Father Christmas/Prince Of The Punks (December '77) This seasonal release was issued in a cartoon picture sleeve, and presented two songs that have never reappeared on album. On the A-side, Santa gets mugged by greedy children; on the flip, Ray spotlights a middle-class phony pretending to be a working-class punk. Many critics assumed the song was aimed at Tom Robinson, who had been having a lengthy argument with Ray through the pages of the press.
I think that by 1976, both parties were tired of each other, RCA not getting the "Lola" hit machine & Ray not getting the financial backing for some of his ideas such as the video project based on Showbiz. I think RCA's attitude was "See ya and don't let the door hit you."
I'm in two minds, and will likely consider that when we get done... I may even change my mind about that still.
‘There Ain’t No Sanity Claus’ was also used as the title of a punk bands attempt at an original Xmas anthem; to wit, The Damned in 1980. It’s good but it ain’t no ‘Father Christmas’!
