Post by franklima on Nov 1, 2008 23:46:47 GMT -5
Just came across this....I took out all the reviews and notes not kinks related except for the list in the beggining so that you can what was included besides the Arthur review.
but here is the link if you want to see the entire article for yourself.
musicaluberfete.blogspot.com/2008/11/kinks-arthur-or-decline-and-fall-of.html
Harold_P's Musical Überfête
An indulgent blog about the finest records known to humanity. An excuse to foist my record collection upon everyone.
Blog Archive
▼ 2008 (16)
▼ November (5)
The White Stripes: Icky Thump (2007)
PJ Harvey: Uh Huh Her (2004)
The Kinks: Arthur (Or the Decline and Fall of the ...
Madder Rose: Bring It Down (1993)
Throwing Muses: University (1995)
► October (11)
Patti Smith: Easter (1978)
10,000 Maniacs: In My Tribe (1987)
Radiohead: Kid A (2000)
Cocteau Twins: Treasure (1984)
Johnny Cash: Sings the Ballads of the True West (1...
Nick Drake: Five Leaves Left (1969)
Belle & Sebastian: Tigermilk (1995)
The Fall: Grotesque (After the Gramme) (1980)
John Cale: Sabotage (Live) (1979)
Lydia Lunch: Queen of Siam (1979)
The Kinks: Arthur (Or the Decline and Fall of the British Empire) (1968)
#14
Arthur, We Love You
Some time ago, I introduced those in the dark to the skiffle combo The Egg. Helmed by power-crazed Mrs Halpine in South London, they remained outside the realm of popular consciousness from 1958-1976. Remember now? No? Well, perhaps you might care to pay more attention next time. I refuse to repeat myself at least more than five times.
Around the time The Kinks released this quintessential concept album, The Egg also produced their own impressive song cycle about Essex winkle-pickers and their struggle to survive through the great depression. Some might argue it was nowhere near as wonderful as this masterpiece, Arthur or The Decline and Fall of the British Empire but at least the title was less of a mouthful, released as Jellied Troubles on Uncle Wullie Records in 1959.
This LP, released a decade later in 1969, ranks as perhaps the finest moment from The Kinks, and represents the peak in the lyricism and pop craft of Ray Davies and the band. An extended concept album based around his real-life brother-in-law Arthur, a former RAF pilot who emigrated to Australia following his disillusionment with Britain, it is a sprawling musical adventure and a humanitarian take on the mood of the era it details.
The narrative for a television production was co-written by Julian Mitchell (Davies wanted Alan Bennett), and it is told from the perspective of a WWII soldier during the mass conscriptions. Although the concept album or rock opera is a loose genre and often there is no actual narrative to follow, this one works better despite perhaps the lack of a focussed approach in the writing.
However, there are singles and classics galore, beginning with the rock-out Victoria which is a flag-waving anthem with a bittersweet tang. With its bouncy bass line and groovy acoustic riff, this is a Kinks favourite, with its descending guitar line mirroring the rapturous lead vocals sung in that “daft” voice by Ray (he uses it as a satirical device here to far better effect).
The instrumentation involved is far grander than on all previous Kinks material, since the concept format allows them to play around with their music and how it is arranged. This tune blends a brief section on trumpet, establishing the subject matter of defending Queen and Country, between the sing-along chorus and rollicking verses. A brilliant start which hints at the ambition, experimentalism and subject matter to come.
Nowhere is this experimentation prevalent than on Yes Sir, No Sir, the furious antiestablishment pop tapestry which builds from a basic military drum roll and mellow acoustic riff into a diverse parade of creative vocal styles, clever drum-and-trumpet syncopations and scathing lyricism.
The tune is critical of the working classes being forced into conscription by the upper classes in charge, just as it had been throughout British history for centuries, and it is effectively built around the callow vocals of Dave Davies as an inexperienced solider. The middle section merges into an entirely different piece altogether, just as fast and enjoyable, but narrated from the perspective of the faceless men in charge: “Let them feel that there’s important to the cause… give the scum a gun and make the bugger fight, be sure to have deserters shot on sight.”
The anti-war sentiments continue on the breathtaking Some Mother’s Son, a moving lament with stirring string arrangements over a distant harpsichord and terrific harmonies from the band. Peter Quaife remains on bass and Mick Avory is on drums. From its soft beginning, it takes off into a rousing little piece with grander instrumentation, captivating to the last, especially at the final chorus: “Some mother’s son lies in a field, but to his mother he looks the same as when he went away, they put his picture on the wall… some mother’s memory remains.”
Despite the heavier material and subject matter, there are still Kinks standards such as the pure escapist pop of Drivin’ which pines for of quaint picnics in rural English idylls, the same non-existent places Davies imagined in The Village Green Preservation Society. There are moments of music-hall mania and rabid drum solo action to be found on rave-ups as bizarre and enjoyable as She’s Bought A Hat Like Princess Marina, and more straightforward little angry-young-man numbers like the repetitive but seething hot Nothing To Say.
Brainwashed is an irresistible rocker, another angrier piece which challenges the classic concern expressed by oodles of working class people, that of a predetermined life of mediocrity and stasis through economic circumstance. The centrepiece of the album is the psychedelic indulgence of Australia (clocking in at under 7 minutes) that is in turns hilarious, adventurous and stunning. With some harmonies purloined from The Beach Boys, Davies imagines a life of unspoilt freedom and free from the doldrums of English life, a place where he rather ironically notes: “Everyone walks around with a perpetual smile across their face!”
Shangri-La is the finest of Davies’ character studies about the “the little man who gets the train,” content with the basic life he has made for himself with no aspirations to greater things. With an affecting acoustic guitar opening he winds through evocative and sympathetic verses which trawl the depths of a normal life that might appear mocking were it not for the tumultuous chorus which has an almost religious convergence of guitar, harmonies and background piano.
Davies given his heart to this man; in almost every piece of music he composes he is hiding in there somewhere with a contented smirk. The third section is exceptional; a faster and more obstinate stream of hooks and melodies splintering off into hundreds of directions at once. Some quite unmatchable playing is on display here.
The rest of the original LP is also tremendous, whether it is the looser portrait of conscription Mr. Churchill Says, punctuated by an air-raid siren and a frantic second half that almost winds the listener, or the gentle acoustic piece Young and Innocent Days; one of the most intimate and beautiful acoustic numbers from Davies.
Arthur, the title track, is an incredible rave-up and excels itself in sounding like the most catchy and magnificent pop tune ever written. That might be a tad far-fetched, but the lead hook on electric guitar rips through the clap-along melody with such exuberance this LP might just take residence in your player for months to come. What a magnificent end to a remarkable concept album. I cannot think of a concept album finer than this.
The 2004 Castle Editions are the Kinks remasters to go for, since most of them are abounding with superfluous or brilliant bonus tracks. This LP is no exception, with such wonderful pieces as the powerful Dave Davies omission This Man He Weeps Tonight that could have fit on the original album with ease.
Plastic Man is also a minor pop gem from the golden era when the Kinks were sitting on a creative volcano. Note also the sublime fun of King Kong and the little country deviation of the jaunty Mr. Shoemaker’s Daughter which is a candidate for my favourite Dave Davies piece. Less impressive is Mindless Child of Motherhood, but we won’t spoil it.
There are some unneeded bonuses here that pad the LP to ridiculous length (pushing the 80:00 mark), the stereo versions of Drivin’ and She’s Bought A Hat Like Princess Marina, as well as three of the aforementioned bonus tracks. These are pointless but take that up with the record folks not me. You know where the program function is…
Arthur or the Decline and Fall of the British Empire) is an outstanding concept album recorded in a period of unfettered brilliance from the finest pop band to walk this earth. The work on this album helped pave the way for a generation of experimental popsters but few of them have bettered this Herculean effort. Few ever will. For fans of classic pop albums everywhere.
Rating: 9/10
but here is the link if you want to see the entire article for yourself.
musicaluberfete.blogspot.com/2008/11/kinks-arthur-or-decline-and-fall-of.html
Harold_P's Musical Überfête
An indulgent blog about the finest records known to humanity. An excuse to foist my record collection upon everyone.
Blog Archive
▼ 2008 (16)
▼ November (5)
The White Stripes: Icky Thump (2007)
PJ Harvey: Uh Huh Her (2004)
The Kinks: Arthur (Or the Decline and Fall of the ...
Madder Rose: Bring It Down (1993)
Throwing Muses: University (1995)
► October (11)
Patti Smith: Easter (1978)
10,000 Maniacs: In My Tribe (1987)
Radiohead: Kid A (2000)
Cocteau Twins: Treasure (1984)
Johnny Cash: Sings the Ballads of the True West (1...
Nick Drake: Five Leaves Left (1969)
Belle & Sebastian: Tigermilk (1995)
The Fall: Grotesque (After the Gramme) (1980)
John Cale: Sabotage (Live) (1979)
Lydia Lunch: Queen of Siam (1979)
The Kinks: Arthur (Or the Decline and Fall of the British Empire) (1968)
#14
Arthur, We Love You
Some time ago, I introduced those in the dark to the skiffle combo The Egg. Helmed by power-crazed Mrs Halpine in South London, they remained outside the realm of popular consciousness from 1958-1976. Remember now? No? Well, perhaps you might care to pay more attention next time. I refuse to repeat myself at least more than five times.
Around the time The Kinks released this quintessential concept album, The Egg also produced their own impressive song cycle about Essex winkle-pickers and their struggle to survive through the great depression. Some might argue it was nowhere near as wonderful as this masterpiece, Arthur or The Decline and Fall of the British Empire but at least the title was less of a mouthful, released as Jellied Troubles on Uncle Wullie Records in 1959.
This LP, released a decade later in 1969, ranks as perhaps the finest moment from The Kinks, and represents the peak in the lyricism and pop craft of Ray Davies and the band. An extended concept album based around his real-life brother-in-law Arthur, a former RAF pilot who emigrated to Australia following his disillusionment with Britain, it is a sprawling musical adventure and a humanitarian take on the mood of the era it details.
The narrative for a television production was co-written by Julian Mitchell (Davies wanted Alan Bennett), and it is told from the perspective of a WWII soldier during the mass conscriptions. Although the concept album or rock opera is a loose genre and often there is no actual narrative to follow, this one works better despite perhaps the lack of a focussed approach in the writing.
However, there are singles and classics galore, beginning with the rock-out Victoria which is a flag-waving anthem with a bittersweet tang. With its bouncy bass line and groovy acoustic riff, this is a Kinks favourite, with its descending guitar line mirroring the rapturous lead vocals sung in that “daft” voice by Ray (he uses it as a satirical device here to far better effect).
The instrumentation involved is far grander than on all previous Kinks material, since the concept format allows them to play around with their music and how it is arranged. This tune blends a brief section on trumpet, establishing the subject matter of defending Queen and Country, between the sing-along chorus and rollicking verses. A brilliant start which hints at the ambition, experimentalism and subject matter to come.
Nowhere is this experimentation prevalent than on Yes Sir, No Sir, the furious antiestablishment pop tapestry which builds from a basic military drum roll and mellow acoustic riff into a diverse parade of creative vocal styles, clever drum-and-trumpet syncopations and scathing lyricism.
The tune is critical of the working classes being forced into conscription by the upper classes in charge, just as it had been throughout British history for centuries, and it is effectively built around the callow vocals of Dave Davies as an inexperienced solider. The middle section merges into an entirely different piece altogether, just as fast and enjoyable, but narrated from the perspective of the faceless men in charge: “Let them feel that there’s important to the cause… give the scum a gun and make the bugger fight, be sure to have deserters shot on sight.”
The anti-war sentiments continue on the breathtaking Some Mother’s Son, a moving lament with stirring string arrangements over a distant harpsichord and terrific harmonies from the band. Peter Quaife remains on bass and Mick Avory is on drums. From its soft beginning, it takes off into a rousing little piece with grander instrumentation, captivating to the last, especially at the final chorus: “Some mother’s son lies in a field, but to his mother he looks the same as when he went away, they put his picture on the wall… some mother’s memory remains.”
Despite the heavier material and subject matter, there are still Kinks standards such as the pure escapist pop of Drivin’ which pines for of quaint picnics in rural English idylls, the same non-existent places Davies imagined in The Village Green Preservation Society. There are moments of music-hall mania and rabid drum solo action to be found on rave-ups as bizarre and enjoyable as She’s Bought A Hat Like Princess Marina, and more straightforward little angry-young-man numbers like the repetitive but seething hot Nothing To Say.
Brainwashed is an irresistible rocker, another angrier piece which challenges the classic concern expressed by oodles of working class people, that of a predetermined life of mediocrity and stasis through economic circumstance. The centrepiece of the album is the psychedelic indulgence of Australia (clocking in at under 7 minutes) that is in turns hilarious, adventurous and stunning. With some harmonies purloined from The Beach Boys, Davies imagines a life of unspoilt freedom and free from the doldrums of English life, a place where he rather ironically notes: “Everyone walks around with a perpetual smile across their face!”
Shangri-La is the finest of Davies’ character studies about the “the little man who gets the train,” content with the basic life he has made for himself with no aspirations to greater things. With an affecting acoustic guitar opening he winds through evocative and sympathetic verses which trawl the depths of a normal life that might appear mocking were it not for the tumultuous chorus which has an almost religious convergence of guitar, harmonies and background piano.
Davies given his heart to this man; in almost every piece of music he composes he is hiding in there somewhere with a contented smirk. The third section is exceptional; a faster and more obstinate stream of hooks and melodies splintering off into hundreds of directions at once. Some quite unmatchable playing is on display here.
The rest of the original LP is also tremendous, whether it is the looser portrait of conscription Mr. Churchill Says, punctuated by an air-raid siren and a frantic second half that almost winds the listener, or the gentle acoustic piece Young and Innocent Days; one of the most intimate and beautiful acoustic numbers from Davies.
Arthur, the title track, is an incredible rave-up and excels itself in sounding like the most catchy and magnificent pop tune ever written. That might be a tad far-fetched, but the lead hook on electric guitar rips through the clap-along melody with such exuberance this LP might just take residence in your player for months to come. What a magnificent end to a remarkable concept album. I cannot think of a concept album finer than this.
The 2004 Castle Editions are the Kinks remasters to go for, since most of them are abounding with superfluous or brilliant bonus tracks. This LP is no exception, with such wonderful pieces as the powerful Dave Davies omission This Man He Weeps Tonight that could have fit on the original album with ease.
Plastic Man is also a minor pop gem from the golden era when the Kinks were sitting on a creative volcano. Note also the sublime fun of King Kong and the little country deviation of the jaunty Mr. Shoemaker’s Daughter which is a candidate for my favourite Dave Davies piece. Less impressive is Mindless Child of Motherhood, but we won’t spoil it.
There are some unneeded bonuses here that pad the LP to ridiculous length (pushing the 80:00 mark), the stereo versions of Drivin’ and She’s Bought A Hat Like Princess Marina, as well as three of the aforementioned bonus tracks. These are pointless but take that up with the record folks not me. You know where the program function is…
Arthur or the Decline and Fall of the British Empire) is an outstanding concept album recorded in a period of unfettered brilliance from the finest pop band to walk this earth. The work on this album helped pave the way for a generation of experimental popsters but few of them have bettered this Herculean effort. Few ever will. For fans of classic pop albums everywhere.
Rating: 9/10