4 May 2010
Here’s a terrific guest live review from our own Jeff Elbel :
Ray Davies and The 88
The Riviera Theatre, Chicago, IL
March 13, 2010
(by Jeff Elbel) March 13, 2010 was a night for old fire and new flame in Chicago (insert obligatory reference to Mrs. O’Leary’s cow here), when erstwhile Kinks frontman Ray Davies brought Los Angeles-based acolytes The 88 to the Riviera Theatre.
Davies the Storyteller began the main event accompanied by guitarist Billy Shanley . Standards including 1965’s “Where Have All the Good Times Gone” seemed timelier than ever. Davies described the decline of the British empire as a cautionary tale before playing “Victoria,” during which Shanley flaunted his rock and roll chops on acoustic guitar. “20th Century Man” became an acutely schizophrenic blues number as Shanley danced between understated rhythm and gritty electric slide guitar.
An engaging raconteur, Davies mimicked a snarky David Letterman and fey Paul Shaffer before playing “In a Moment” from 2007’s under-appreciated solo LP
Working Man’s Café . “You should check it out,” Davies suggested to a room brimming with people likely able to sing every note of it. “It’s a sleeper. It’ll have its day.” Davies became a greasy New Orleans tough during his story preceding “The Tourist,” which was interrupted by a cheeky, curmudgeonly rant about Abba’s induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Davies later sang a verse of “Dedicated Follower of Fashion” in the guise of Johnny Cash circa “I Walk the Line.”
A mini-set of songs featured in recent films included the brooding “Nothin’ in the World Can Stop Me Worryin’ ‘Bout That Girl” from 1965’s
Kinda Kinks. Davies described the song as a teenaged expression of naked tension. “She broke my heart,” he confessed, “but now I cannot even remember her name.” During the melancholy “Postcard from London” from the recent Kinks
Choral Collection , Shanley’s chiming guitar took the place of the album’s angelic choir.
Before launching a raucous singalong of “Apeman,” Davies addressed the Kinks’ apparent demise. “Actually, I haven’t left the Kinks,” he said coyly. “I’m still waiting for that phone call.” The applause was immediate and thunderous, but perhaps tempered by the knowledge that it would be easiest if Davies picked up the phone himself.
Things really got exciting when Ray welcomed The 88 back onto the stage. Judging by numbers including “Love is the Thing” and “Not Enough” from the band’s opening set, it was obvious that
Keith Slettedahl and company were devotees with deep roots into the Kinks catalog. The band tore into “You Really Got Me,” and decades fell away as Davies left his stool behind, shimmying to the beat. Slettedahl shook with electricity as he attacked
Dave Davies ’ snarling dog guitar solo.
Adam Merrin pounded his red piano with obvious glee during “David Watts,” and Slettedahl took a verse alongside his hero Davies with transparent pride. It seemed that The 88 were engaged not only to serve arena standards like the grinding “Low Budget,” but also had an influence in selecting deeper cuts. “This is a song for the end times,” announced Davies when introducing “Dead End Street,” buoyed by the snap and swing of 88 drummer
Anthony Zimmitti . Bassist
Todd O’Keefe dug into
Pete Quaife ’s jaunty bass line and gave a throaty howl for the chorus.
Davies left the stage as the band riffed on, but returned with lager in hand. He signed autographs at the rim of the stage before introducing “another piece of improvisational theater I wrote on the way here this evening.” The band played “Lola” with gusto, and Davies knocked people out one last time, a 65 year old man in drainpipe pants who, despite having been shot in the leg in 2004, still finished his show with a youthful scissor kick.
– Jeff Elbel
[Man, I wish I’d seen this show. “Dead End Street,” full band???—ed.]
