Do It Again

I wasn’t going to see Ray Davies when he came to town this time. I know that sounds nuts. But it’s been a long slog, more than three years since we turned on the cameras to start filming DO IT AGAIN and frankly, with the baby and the house and the regular job, I’ve been swamped. The PBS run has been wonderful. It has also required endless hours of extra work. Sorry, I’m whining. But I’m trying to explain why, after literally begging Ray to watch the film for more than a year and then meet with me – all for the purpose of creating a DVD I can share with you – I’ve sometimes found it hard to just sit in the crowd and cheer. Then, a few weeks ago, word came from London that Ray might be willing to meet and chat about potentially approving DO IT AGAIN for DVD release. (For those of you unfamiliar with the arcane world of music licensing, I need his thumbs-up.) As instructed, I over-nighted a DVD to him in New York. Then I slapped down $77 for a seat in the balcony of the Wilbur and waited. And waited. There were moments I almost felt encouraged. A fellow journalist told me that he asked Ray about the movie during an interview and was told that he had the DVD. But whether Ray watched it or not, we’ll never know.
Because gig night came and still no word from London on a meeting. It was frankly kind of depressing leaving the family at home on Thanksgiving Eve and heading into Boston on my own. I decided to bring a bag of DO IT AGAIN buttons and let folks know I’d be at Jacob Wirth’s before the show. Once there, I found a surprising number of people who had seen DO IT AGAIN and wanted to say hello. Then Frank Lima (aka Dan the Fan) texted me telling me he was over at the Rock Bottom. I headed over there and encountered some of the superfans, many of them on their fourth or fifth or eights gig of the short tour. I also ran into complete strangers who, again, had seen DO IT AGAIN and wanted to say nice things. I realized that this was probably the only night in which I might be a pseudo-celebrity. By now, my London contact had told me to try to hook on with Frank. Why not? Frank’s got Ray’s cell number on his phone. He had tickets for the front table. He’s also been kind about DO IT AGAIN, trying to get Ray’s attention about the film. We left it open how we might proceed post-concert.
The show? I was impressed. Ray played a wonderful version of “Waterloo Sunset” and “Nothin’ in the World Can Stop Me Worryin’ ‘Bout That Girl.” He seemed in wonderful spirits. The set with the choir surprised me. At times, Ray’s voice was overwhelmed by the many singers. But at other times – I think of “Shangri-La” – the choir added a depth and richness. I do wish Ray would have thrown at least a couple of “Workingman’s Café” songs into the mix, but you can’t play everything…
Then, the wait. Frank called as soon as the lights went down and told me to sit tight. Then, he disappeared. I hung with the superfans, first out front until it got too cold, then at the Rock Bottom. Frank wrote, told me he wasn’t in yet. I talked to TA. and Frank Reda and Michelle Pedretti (from Italy!). We each got a drink. Frank wrote again. This time, he had been able to get in but Ray was already taking off. He had to get the bus to Toronto.
It was all sort of depressing, though I’m not sure why. We made a movie which we’re proud of. It appears lots of folks have seen it. The film is going to continue to be on PBS stations – the Philadelphia Inquirer just called to arrange an interview in advance of our mid-December screenings. And I got to see Ray playing a killer set list and seemingly healthy and in good spirits. Sure, it’s disappointing that I can’t get the film out on DVD so you folks – the fans – can see it more easily. But the DVD/download issue is one of access, not revenue. I’ll never make money off DO IT AGAIN. I just want to share.
Which gets me to what happened two days later.
It was my birthday last week. I turned 41. So just after getting blown off my Ray, I get a package in the mail from western Massachusetts. The Muswell Hillbillies bought a 45 of “Do It Again” and each member of the band signed the sleeve. They also included a ticket to their Dec. 23 “farewell” show. (I honestly hope it isn’t farewell, which is why I put quote marks around the word.) I immediately went online and purchased a second ticket for Carlene. She should be there, too.
I don’t know what it was about that package. It was theoretically just a record. But if felt like more. It reminded me of when I was having trouble with Paul McCartney’s manager and Lila and I were walking to the beach on a summer morning and she said, “who cares about Paul McCartney. He’s in every movie.” At that moment, I could suddenly let Paul’s footage go.
Not that Ray’s off the hook. I still intend to nag and plead and work out something so I can get you all DVDs of DO IT AGAIN. But I care a lot more about a bunch of people I do know – my extended Kinks family – sending me a thoughtful gift on my birthday than a brilliant, eccentric, artistic stranger (and rock hero) blowing me off on a Wednesday night.

In the entertainment world, there are lots of times we’re told an event is “one night only” or “see it now while you still can.” I felt that way sitting in the audience as Brian Wilson performed “Smile” and, to a lesser extent, when Simon & Garfunkel hit the road again.

In reality, each of these moments could be re-experienced with little trouble. All you needed was a few days off from work, some wheels and tickets to the next show. That’s not the case with the Muswell Hillbillies, a band formed exclusively to play the 1971 Kinks record of the same name.

I feel pretty confident telling you that the group’s Aug. 1 gig at B.B. King’s in New York might be one of their last.

That’s because they’re not a normal band. They’re led by Dave Simons, a geezer like me, and his Kinks compatriots drummer Dave Sokol and guitarist Bill Howard. But they’re also made up of a group of kids from a high school, Hopkins Academy: Trumpeters Nate Aldrich and Chris Leveille, saxophonists Hayden Durand and Michael Leveille, and trombonist Emily Eagan. She’s 16.

In other words, this a band built to break-up. These kids gotta go to college!

Quick back-story of how I met the Hillbillies. Dave heard about “Do It Again.” He lives out in Western Massachusetts and told me about his kooky idea, to form a band to perform, in its entirety, “Muswell Hillbillies.”

I considered asking why. I love the songs “Muswell Hillbilly” and “20th Century Man,” on the record but something about the LP has always seemed too samey to me. “Muswell” certainly couldn’t stand up to my big five: “Face to Face,” “Something Else by the Kinks,” “The Kinks are the Village Green Preservation Society,” “Arthur (And the Decline and the Fall of the British Empire),” and “Lola Versus Powerman and the Moneygoround, Part One.”

But I did find Dave’s idea intriguing. Somehow, it seemed cosmically aligned with my bizarre mission. I also knew I had an important screening coming up at the Independent Film Festival Boston. I had hoped to find a band to play our after party. Dave’s price was right. Would the band be good? Dave e-mailed me a recording of his group playing “Waterloo Sunset.” It sounded decent, but I know it’s easy to manipulate a recording. I had to bring in the Hillbillies based on faith.

The good news is that there was really nothing to worry about. You’ve got the mustached Simons, in his ‘50s, serving as lead singer and Kinks ambassador. You’ve got Howard, his next door neighbor, channelling Dave Davies with his gritty, spot-on guitar work and then there’s Dave Skelly, a 2006 Hopkins graduate who plays multiple instruments and sings backup.

Considering how dysfunctional the Kinks proper are, I also kind of like the family connections, with Dave’s wife, Paula, singing backup and his son, Jack, playing bass.

But let’s get back to the point. The point is that I’ve seen these guys twice, at the Boston party and a few weeks later at the Iron Horse in Northampton. For me, they’ve brought an underappreciated record to life. They’ve also gotten much tighter than the first show. “Do It Again” – and please find me another band that covers that song – was a bit ragged in Boston. It came alive in Northampton. So did “Victoria” and “Waterloo Sunset” and Sokol’s vocal turn on “I’m Not Like Everybody Else.” Sitting there, I felt as if I were at a celebration, a concert and a family sing-along.

Don’t believe me? Head to B.B. King’s and hear for yourself.