I suppose it comes from cutting musical teeth in Punk's aftermath, but I've always had a problem with the, erm...'concept album'. In fact, as a rule, the mere mention of the term usually brings about a reaction similar to Christopher Walken's pest controller in "Mouse Hunt."
Frankly, even The Who's "Tommy" (arguably The Daddy of them all) always brought me out in spots, and I'm writing this as an otherwise huge Who fan. With the exception of "Pinball Wizard", I'd be delighted if it never darkened my doorstep again. As for the glut of sub-Tolkein twaddle, free jazz odysseys and beard that choked the early 1970s, I've only this to say: RE-ACTIVATE THE GULAGS!!
So now I've got that off my chest, I'm about to demand you fall in love with, er, a concept album. But wait! Stop laughing! Before someone disappears for the blindfold and marksman, this really IS worth your while. It's called "Arthur (Or The Decline And Fall Of The British Empire)", it's by THE KINKS and it's magic.
Thing is, "Arthur" does just what it says on the tin and while Britain's role in world affairs (and it's effect on the man in the street) may seem like an unwieldy choice for a 'suite' of 12 songs, in Ray Davies' capable hands it's beautifully realised.
Broadly relating the story of an ordinary bloke called (yeah) Arthur and his family, the album's timescale begins with the joyous anthem "Victoria" (later faithfully covered by The Fall) as the 20th Century dawns and ends with our hero sitting in his two-up two-down palace( the "Shangri-La" of the song title included here) and covers the two World Wars, the uneasy '20s and even more precarious '30s between and Arthut wondering what it was all for.Something we can all relate to.
Granada TV originally instigated the project as a collaboration between Ray Davies and playwright Julian Mitchell in January 1969, but after the TV screenplay and songs were both duly completed, Granada pulled out, leaving "Arthur" to suffer an ignoble fate with critics and public alike on its' release - sans visual counterpart - in December 1969.
Which seems amazing now, because either as a narrative or just a great set of songs, "Arthur" makes perfect sense. Indeed, sonically, The Kinks are firing on all cylinders here. The digitally remastered version allows you to realise what a fine rhythm section Mick Avory and John Dalton were, while the prickly interplay (and delicious harmonies) between the Davies brothers is never less than outstanding.
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"Victoria" and "Drivin'" - a sort of 1930s escapist version of "Sunny Afternoon" - are perhaps THE two great unheralded Kinks singles, while the militaristic "Yes Sir, No Sir" and poignant Somme story "Some Mother's Son" form a killer emotional one-two.
"Brainwashed" revisits the economic, riffmungous Kinks of "You Really Got Me", yet "Australia" floats even further out into the seven seas of psychedelia than you'd expect from Muswell Hill's finest, cultivating a groove not dissimilar to "Sympathy For The Devil" with crashing drums, piano and stabs of brass.
The only real disappointment is the proto-Mockney music hall of "She' s Bought A Hat Like Princess Marina", which may reflect post-war joie de vivre, but really only succeeds in bettering The Stones' "Cool, Calm & Collected" and that was never much cop anyway.
But even this does little to blunt the impact of "Arthur"s second half, which also includes "Shangri-La" - alternately brittle acoustic celebration of our hero's dreary little suburban paradise and furious fanfare - and the terrific triumvirate that close the proceedings as Arthur and his children look back on the fifty years. "Young And Innocent Days", seen through Arthur's own wistful memories is especially yearning and stately.
So, while "Arthur" may delve into a past full of disillusion, thirty years later it;s a passionate history lesson still beating with a healthy pop pulse. Instead of dismissing it as a bad "Tommy" imitator, embrace it for what it really is: fifty turbulent years and one unsung hero (out of millons in the same boat) condensed into a dozen fabulously vivid vignettes.
And there's not a double-necked guitar in sight!
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