His brother, Ray, is the beatgroup equivalent of Matthew Parris, dreary little tales of Waterloo Sunset and fashion and City gentry and oh, for fucks sake, the village green preservation society and Dave, the younger, funkier brother and the best nusician in the Kinks, was always overwhelmed. These are his two singles. Dylanesque, brash and enthusiastic, there is not a pretentious line in either.
Ray was recently at Glastonbury, accompanied by a choir, would you believe, though not a very good one, egging-up his dismal pudding, fucking about, lazing, really, on a sunny afternoon. Waste of space, like, those sixties, man.
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