The Kinks - "State of Confusion" (1983) - Arista Records
Hello Friends,
The Kinks have, in our opinion, never done a bad record.
Sure, they can't all be Something Else, but in general, even mediocre Kinks is still better than pretty much everything else.
1983's State of Confusion definitely falls along the more mediocre side of the spectrum, but its still a very, very good listen.
The biggest complaint is probably that it suffers from sounding slightly dated. I mean they released stuff in the 60's that could pass for a song from this year or last, but there's no mistaking this album is from the early 80's.
Ray Davies is in fine form throughout the record. The album kicks off with three solid, fists-in-the-air rockers, "State of Confusion", "Definite Maybe" and "Labour of Love" all with plenty of Davies' tongue-in-cheek cynicism right from the get go.
Songs like the heartbreaking "Property" (about sifting through your stuff after a bad breakup) and the surprisingly-sweet "Heart of Gold" can almost pass for Pretenders' songs (Davies was dating Chrissie Hynde at the time.)
Side Two is home to a nice ballad, "Don't Forget to Dance"; a couple of more decent rockers, "Young Conservatives" & "Cliches of the World (B-Movie); and the record ends with the Dave Davies-sung 12-bar screecher, "Bernadette".
The album's standout track is, of course, "Come Dancing", which would oddly enough become one of the band's biggest hits! (It would reach # 6 on the Billboard Charts, their highest since 1965's "Tired of Waiting for You".) The song got a lot of radio play in the 80's and is, at its core, a heart-breaking remembrance of a young Ray Davies, who would lie awake in bed on Saturday nights, waiting for his older sister to come home from the local dance hall where the "big bands used to play". To young Davies, every one of these late Saturday nights represented an epic tale of young lovers acting out with reckless abandon, unattainable fun, broken hearts, shattered dreams, disappointments and bright-eyed hope for what was to come. The song reeks of nostalgia, but not without a hint of cynicism. In typical Ray Davies' fashion, the dance hall closed down years ago; it became a bowling alley for a little while, then a supermarket. Now, its a parking lot.
Guess they paved paradise.
RATING: 4 days they knocked down the pally out of 5
The Kinks have, in our opinion, never done a bad record.
Sure, they can't all be Something Else, but in general, even mediocre Kinks is still better than pretty much everything else.
1983's State of Confusion definitely falls along the more mediocre side of the spectrum, but its still a very, very good listen.
The biggest complaint is probably that it suffers from sounding slightly dated. I mean they released stuff in the 60's that could pass for a song from this year or last, but there's no mistaking this album is from the early 80's.
Ray Davies is in fine form throughout the record. The album kicks off with three solid, fists-in-the-air rockers, "State of Confusion", "Definite Maybe" and "Labour of Love" all with plenty of Davies' tongue-in-cheek cynicism right from the get go.
Songs like the heartbreaking "Property" (about sifting through your stuff after a bad breakup) and the surprisingly-sweet "Heart of Gold" can almost pass for Pretenders' songs (Davies was dating Chrissie Hynde at the time.)
Side Two is home to a nice ballad, "Don't Forget to Dance"; a couple of more decent rockers, "Young Conservatives" & "Cliches of the World (B-Movie); and the record ends with the Dave Davies-sung 12-bar screecher, "Bernadette".
The album's standout track is, of course, "Come Dancing", which would oddly enough become one of the band's biggest hits! (It would reach # 6 on the Billboard Charts, their highest since 1965's "Tired of Waiting for You".) The song got a lot of radio play in the 80's and is, at its core, a heart-breaking remembrance of a young Ray Davies, who would lie awake in bed on Saturday nights, waiting for his older sister to come home from the local dance hall where the "big bands used to play". To young Davies, every one of these late Saturday nights represented an epic tale of young lovers acting out with reckless abandon, unattainable fun, broken hearts, shattered dreams, disappointments and bright-eyed hope for what was to come. The song reeks of nostalgia, but not without a hint of cynicism. In typical Ray Davies' fashion, the dance hall closed down years ago; it became a bowling alley for a little while, then a supermarket. Now, its a parking lot.
Guess they paved paradise.
RATING: 4 days they knocked down the pally out of 5
