How did the new album come about?
I got shot when I was in New Orleans and when I was recovering Alex Chilton [lead singer of the Box Tops and Big Star] was there – he lent me his guitar, started bringing me shopping and even brought me the occasional six-pack, which was strange, considering he was a recovering alcoholic at the time – and he’d covered a few Kinks songs when he was in Big Star, and he asked if he could cover a couple of Kinks songs when he visited London. So we got together, I played acoustic guitar and he sang. That’s how it really started out.
Then Lucinda Williams [American rock, folk, blues and country music singer and songwriter], who I’d known for a long time, came to London to play and she did the same thing. So the idea for the album began to churn in my mind.
Have you avoided collaborations before?
Yes, definitely. I just thought Kinks records stood well enough on their own. But then I began to think – especially after hearing Lucinda do her version of a long way from home – there’s some use in this because it gives the songs a chance to breathe again and live outside The Kinks.
Does it somehow work better for the lesser known songs?
No. Alex did Till The End of The Day in a soul and swing cabaret-style, and he gave it a different groove. And, to be fair, all the artists have brought something new to the songs. And I like that.
Were you quite protective of your stuff and worried what people were going to do with it?
One thing I learnt was to let the songs breathe; it’s like letting your kids go. And I think they’re in the hands of very dedicated people. Everyone who was involved was very keen to do right by the songs.
Who are your top three modern songwriters?
I like a lot of people. I like Nick Cave. I like some of things Weller does – Paul’s still writing good stuff. I liked KT Tunstall when she came along. There’s a bunch of good people I like. I enjoy most rap music, but the only music I can’t cope with is boom-booming rap music. When I lived in New Orleans I lived right on a corner where they would deal drugs and I used to hear it coming out of the cars. I was scared to go out and say anything incase I got shot again. That music brings back those memories.
What’s your standpoint on the X-Factor and Simon Cowell’s increasing influence on popular music?
Modern culture in decline. People resist it but they watch it because there’s nothing else on. What worries me about Simon Cowell – I’ve got nothing against him whatsoever, except his haircut – and his brand of entertainment is that it reduces music to the lowest common denominator. Record companies – when they put bands together – fashion them for the mainstream, which kills the creativity and the uniqueness. It’s a high-profile programme, but it shouldn’t be representative of the music industry. I like smaller, quirkier bands because they have a true identity.
When there’s an exciting new band, like a Nirvana or an Oasis, then it strikes its own chord, and breaks through its own future. That’s when music in general becomes exciting and liberated. What X-Factor is doing is the opposite, it’s making it corporate, and I’m sorry for saying that, but that’s my belief.
Is that not what most people think?
If they are thinking that and accepting it and not seeking alternatives than that is what’s really worrying me.
What is the Ray Davies-prescribed antidote?
We live in a generation where all the big promoters are brought up by the big conglomerates, which means they dare not take the risk in promoting small bands. Which means there’s fewer outlets for young bands, especially in London. The problem is finding places where these bands can go and get started like they did in the punk days.
X-Factor’s live entertainment and that’s fine, but people have to accept that there’s other stuff out there. Better stuff.
What was the first gig you ever attended?
I remember it vividly. I was a toddler and I went to see Duane Eddy and Little Richard play at the Edmonton Odeon. Duane Eddy sounded just like his records. He was fantastic. And even as a 9-year-old I knew Little Richard was a fag.
Favourite English meal?
I don’t eat meat but I love a Sunday roast with nut cutlets. I’ve been a vegetarian since Nixon was in the Whitehouse.
Favourite sandwich?
When it’s done properly? Grilled cheese and tomato.
Favourite shop in London?
I really admire the standalone delicatessens. I’m anti-Tesco and you have to pay a bit more where I live in Hampstead, but if you can afford it it’s worth it.
Favourite city outside of London?
I do like New Orleans. I’m a fool to like it but I do. I can cycle everywhere. It’s flat. I like Manhattan too. And if I could find a neighbourhood somewhere off the centre of Paris, I might go and live there.
What draws you to places most?
The people. A good neighbourhood. I always try to promote being a good neighbour, and you don’t get that in London now.
What gets on your nerves about London now?
The buses. London was built for the horse and cart. The buses are much too big. Smaller buses are better.
I tell you a great city: Berlin. It was blown to pieces but they’ve rebuilt it and Berliners are proud of the old stuff. You can even find out where Hitler’s bunker was. Most nation’s would shy away from that but they are proud of there city. It’s a very young and vibrant city.
Favourite London pub?
I used to go and see punk bands in the King's Head in Islington. It used to be a death trap downstairs. What with the amount of people upstairs you could feel that the roof down below was about to collapse. One of the funniest gigs I ever saw was Jane County and the Electric Chairs playing there and people throwing chairs at him. He was a tranny.
Favourite place in London?
The road out.
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