Ray Davies in NYC: "Americana" Discussion and Book Signing

Disclaimer: I wrote this after a long, tiring weekend and admit that I'm too tired to thoroughly edit this post. I do that enough at my job during the week. So this blog post will stand as is and I apologize for any misspellings, grammatical issues, or non-sensible fangirl ramblings that you, as the reader, may encounter.

Much of the past two days I spent debating how to approach writing about the Ray Davies book signing (for his book Americana, which I reviewed in my previous blog post) in New York City this past Friday. It's not a show or a performance of any kind and admittedly the "Talk" part was brief, so the event itself is nearly a non-event. Most of the hours were the actual signings by Mr. Davies for the hundreds of people who showed up, who each have their own individual tales of the experience. I will write a bit about the Talk Ray Davies had with DJ Pierre Robert, and I will offer an anecdote of my own interaction with this musical genius, but first I want to discuss what makes events like this special for me.

Enduring the wait. Photo by me.

I will always be a comparatively inexperienced fan just for the simple fact that I was born in 1988, nearing the end of the Kinks' career as band, before Ray and Dave Davies went separate ways. I didn't see the Kinks perform and perhaps I never will. (I'm not going to get into the reunion rumors/debate today.) In spite of my age, through my attendance of Ray Davies' solo shows, for me starting in 2008, and more recently Dave's shows, as well as the wonder of the Internet age, I have met and befriended numerous Kinks fans, young and old (or maybe I should say well-seasoned) who have accepted me as part of the cult. My generation has developed the term "fandom" to describe a group of people united by an interest in some area of pop culture. I am a member of the Kinks fandom, as my generation would say, and it is such an interesting and eclectic group of people.

Going to any Kinks-related event, such as a show, a convention, a signing, or what have you, is basically like a family reunion. Everyone knows everyone else and knows everyone else's business. You have your favorite aunt and a crazy uncle and people who are nearly like sisters and brothers. Just sitting down for a bit and observing, you hear people asking questions like "how are the kids?" and "what are you up to these days?" or "Oh, you know so-and-so too?". This signing was exactly the same. I arrived early, having met up with my closest Kinks-companion and headed to the Union Square Barnes and Noble several hours before the event. We arrived to find other well-known faces already waiting. All of my friends were there and all of the usual suspects. And it really does become like a big Thanksgiving dinner, of sorts. Everyone is hugging everyone as they arrive, hours are spent catching up with everyone else through the afternoon. People who don't entirely know you get introduced, you are recognized by others who have seen who at other shows or even from Facebook posts, and everyone starts telling their Kinks-related stories of past show and experiences.

It really helps to pass the time, for one, but really it just makes the even more fun. The event itself is so relatively short that the conversation and fan interaction leading up to it really becomes half of the event. So I spent my afternoon talking to other fans (when I wasn't nearly falling sleep, but that's another story) and showing some interested parties some of my artwork. Another friend, who is a Kinks fan but not a "fandom member," showed up and we discussed non-Kinks stuff (I know, but sometimes you need a change of topic), which also passed the time. He was a bit unsure of the enthusiasm of some Kinks fans, which admittedly to an outsider would seem a bit deranged and even at times I wonder how I ended up as part of this unusual family. But I fully embrace it and really I wouldn't give it up for anything. Plus the sing-alongs are great.

About an hour before the event was scheduled to begin, the rather friendly Barnes and Noble staff offered us the chance to write questions that could be asked to Mr. Davies. I declined the offer simply because my mind tends to go blank if I'm asked to come up with a good question immediately. If you gave me a few hours to think about it, I could probably come up with some killer questions to ask, but alas, I could not do it on-the-spot. The staff also informed us that we would be able to take as many pictures as we would like throughout the event (which did surprise me). My excitement grew and it was around this time that the fans near the front, where I sitting, began a round of sing-alongs. I recall "Sunny Afternoon," "Alcohol," and "Harry Rag" among the selected tunes. It was also during this time that I finally decided I was going to grow a pair and give Mr. Davies a print copy of one of my watercolor portraits of him when I was getting the book signed. This has been something I've long debated on, and though many other Kinks fans have encouraged me to show Ray my work (also easier said than done), my reserved nature, general shyness, and tendency to suffer from anxiety have long prevented me from doing such a thing. More about this print later.

Just before he arrived, I took a look around from my spot in the fourth row and I was simply amazed at the number of people who had turned up. I found out later that people were waiting on the third and second floors, and others had been turned away. I even heard that more people had shown up for this than for Pete Townshend's appearance last October; I don't know how true that is, but the number of people was truly staggering and warmed my heart a bit. At the same time, I'm not entirely surprised at the turn out. This was Mr. Davies' only US promotional event for this book, compared to the four or five appearances he made in the UK earlier this month; if you wanted a chance to get the book signed, this was it.

Ray with his Starbucks. Photo by me.

I'm going to skip ahead to Ray Davies actually appearing, because I'm sure I've bored you all enough by this point. Ray came out to great cheers and applause, as we would all expect and he sat down for his interview with Pierre Robert, looking in high spirits and sipping from a Barnes and Noble Cafe/Starbucks cup, which somehow I still find to be an amusing image for no real reason. I can't recall every detail from the talk, admittedly. Mr. Davies did a hilarious impression of Keith Richards at one point and there was a lot of the usual talk about why the Kinks were banned from the US and about Ray's shooting in New Orleans. I won't go into any of that because reading Americana will give you the details. Perhaps for this reason I found the discussion and much of the preceding US press about this book to be exasperating; the questions asked are clearly answered in the book. I would be more impressed if someone would ask Ray questions inspired by the book, rather than answered by it. Or perhaps more could be discussed about the book's structure or a detail that wasn't entirely expounded upon in the book. But what do I know? I was only a Literature major in college.

The painting I did of Ray. I gave him a print.

There were a few interesting fan questions, such as the origins of the song "Wonderboy," whether Mr. Davies had ever met Bob Marley (a bit out of left field, but it led to an interesting anecdote about Chris Blackwell), and what his favorite Cary Grant film was (I can't remember his answer now). Naturally he was asked about his younger brother Dave ("He's a punk!) and about the chances of a reunion, to which he responded with his standard answer: not likely at the moment and only if there was new music.

Although at this point the details of the talk have faded a bit from my mind, I can say that his responses were always interesting, calculated, and humorous. Listening to Ray speak or sing is truly to witness a great mind, as many Kinks fans know (and will tell you ad nauseum). A point that Pierre Robert brought up is that the Kinks are never truly lumped in with contemporaries of their time (The Rolling Stones, The Who, etc.) despite how many memorable songs and well-composed albums they had. They are and always were a cult band and honestly, while I wish Ray Davies and the band were given more recognition, I'd rather the Kinks remain a cult band. Perhaps it's a bit "hipsterish" to say, but I enjoy that the Kinks are still something of a dirty little secret amongst fans of that genre.

The interview part of the event was over rather quickly, less than fifty minutes, I'd say. Row by row of fans were called up for their turn to get the books signed. I had a copy for myself and a friend, as well as my print that I nervously handled, still wondering if I would actually be able to give it to him; I've rather unfortunately

Me not crying or vomiting while talking to Ray. Photo by D. Badessa.

put Mr. Davies on a rather high pedestal over the years and on past occasions where I've had the opportunity to interact with him, I've found myself struck dumb or slinking back with nerves.

As I got closer to the stage, I felt my anxiety getting the best of me, but once I finally got to Mr. Davies, I found myself almost miraculously able to speak. I gave him the print, explained that it was a copy of one of my watercolors, to which he said it was lovely and that I was "very good." So I accomplished at least that and I can now say that both Davies brothers own a piece of my artwork (although Dave Davies actually has an original rather than a print). I was lucky enough too that a friend with a very good camera was able to snap some pictures of me as I talked to Ray. Needless to say, it is going to be my desktop background for a very long time.

Afterwards, as Kinks fans often do, we journeyed elsewhere for food, drink, and conversation, and to revel in what we had all just experienced. It was a lovely time, as is to be expected. Many of us will be meeting again in just a few weeks to attend the Dave Davies' fall tour, enjoying the companionship of the cult and continuing to celebrate the genius of the Kinks.

Imported Americana: Ray Davies' Transatlantic Quandry

It's been ages since I've even bothered to post anything to this blog. I don't know if I will entirely resurrect it, but having just speedily gobbled down my hero Ray Davies' latest literary work, a second memoir, I feel inclined to share my thoughts in review form.  

WARNING: Spoiler alert, if you can call the details of someone's otherwise publicized life spoilers.

Davies' latest autobiography, Americana: The Kinks, the Riff, the Road: The Story, picks up where his last memoir, 1994's X-Ray: The Unofficial Autobiography, left off. Americana offers a look at Davies' determined reconquest of the American music market after the Kinks had experienced a four-year ban in the late '60s, perhaps the height of the band's career in some critics' eyes. Parallel to this narrative is a later experience in New Orleans, leading up to his most harrowing life event: a shooting by a mugger in 2004.

The structure of Davies' book is effective. He jumps through several periods of his life, but with an amazing flow that doesn't give the reader a sense of disjointed storytelling. He only vaguely retells the details of the exploits discussed in X-Ray for the sake of clarity and continuity without completely rehashing such tales and without boring dedicated fans who are (I'm sure like myself) very well acquainted with his first book. I particularly enjoyed a chapter in which we are painstakingly show the daily touring diary of 1977, which to some readers might seem daunting to read through, only to have it then retold in more minute detail in the second half the the chapter. It's a bit of brilliantly placed exhaustion and anxiety that allows the reader to feel as if they too experienced the tiring journey of touring that Davies' and the Kinks carried on with year after year in an attempt to avoid slipping away into rock 'n' roll limbo as some had predicted they would in the 1960s.

Unlike X-Ray, this book, in some ways, deals less with Davies' personal life. In the former memoir, for example, he shares enormous detail of his relationship with his first wife, Rasa; in Americana, he makes vague references to his second and third marriages and only a few more direct mentions of his infamous relationship with the Pretenders' Chrissy Hynde. Ray Davies has always been a relatively private figure, and unlike others in the general music or celebrity realm, he has maintained much us his privacy, staying out of tabloid papers and speaking cryptically or not at all concerning certain details of his past. You have to applaud him for that, especially now in the extreme age of celebrity gossip, all the more intrusive in the Internet age.

Within the book, the reader also finds a number of song lyrics used to complement whatever anecdote he is offering. Some are familiar favorites and hits, while others are unknown. The reader is left wondering if these songs are old or new, and if they will ever see the light of day.  Perhaps more than any other songwriter of the 20th and 21st century, Davies' catalogue is almost obscenely extensive and he admits in Americana, as well as many previous interviews, that songwriting is a natural drive for him. As fans, we can only hope that more of his songs will reach our ears in the years to come.

I was unsurprised at the conclusion of Americana, as it again mirrored much of X-Ray. He ends this book at his return from New Orleans after the shooting to London, taking this book as far as the year 2004 and no further. Similarly, X-Ray focused almost entirely on the Kinks' story in the '60s and only briefly touched, in vague passing, to later events. Americana mentions the production of his first solo album Other People's Lives, but only mentions a few songs from his second, Working Man's Café, and discusses none of his more recent accomplishments, including stints at Glastonbury, his role as curator for the 2011 Meltdown festival, or his performance at the 2012 London Olympic games. There isn't even a nod to his brother Dave's own life-threatening experience later in 2004 when he had a stroke.

With recently revived rumors of a Kinks reunion spreading through all corners of the media following the press surrounding this book as well as Dave's return to public performance this year, I wonder if Ray has deliberately delayed writing about events beyond 2004 in the hope that he'll have even more exciting stories to tell if these 50th Anniversary whispers culminate in something real. As a fan, I do hope that he has another book in him, as he has always had a number of projects keeping him busy. In other decade I'd love one more memoir to bring finality to Davies' story.


Americana: The Kinks, the Riff, the Road: The Story is now available in the UK and US as of October 1st.

Ray Davies will appear at NYC's Union Square Barnes and Noble on October 25th at 7pm. You know I'll be there.

A Townshend of a Different Color

As Roger Daltrey tours America with Tommy, Townshend aims to branch out on his own. But we're not talking about Pete. His younger brother, Simon, is currently touring as the guitarist in Daltrey's band, giving fans a taste of what supposedly will become a Quadrophenia tour in 2012. Simon, who also tours with The Who alongside Pete, is not just riding on the coat-tails of his elder brother's success. In his own right he is an excellent musician, songwriter, and singer, and recently he used the current tour to promote his own material.

Simon Townshend appeared in a small lounge in New York City, Dominion, on September 22 to perform solo material without the help of Daltrey's band or his brother's discography. And yes, there were many rabid Who fans in attendance, but if the audience's reaction was anything to go by, Townshend has built up quite a following that shouldn't be credited to his being a rock sibling.

At the start of his set. The hot lounge forced him to lose the jacket, cap, and sunglasses quite early.

The performance itself was extremely casual. Treating the audience like old friends, he seemed relaxed and, having made a few mistakes with brand new material, was able to brush off the errors with a smile, laugh, and lighthearted obscenities. The audience didn't mind at all. Like old friends, they laughed along and provided shouts of support. Who needs a famous brother when you have such a large extended family of music lovers at your disposal?

Simon Townshend's set was a mix of new material – still obviously in their infancy as the guitarist struggled to remember how the some of the songs progressed – and old fan favorites. Having recently released an EP titled Something New, available on iTunes and for fans to purchase at the Tommy concerts, Townshend seems to have already converted some fans as they continually shouted “Looking in Looking Out” throughout the show. The EP track was obligingly performed later in the show. Older songs in his repertoire, such as “Comeback” and “Time the Healer” excited the lounge goers who shouted approval at their immediate recognition of the tunes. He certainly isn't an unknown talent.

In the moment with his playing.

As I spent much of the show observing his playing technique, Simon has obviously learned a thing or two from his brother. Okay, let's be honest, watching him play is nearly like watching Pete's rather iconic style of playing, especially when he strums with a flamenco-esque flair, but Simon has molded his playing to still seem completely unique to himself. And perhaps also reminiscent of Pete was Simon's apparent ability to put a great deal of genuine emotion into his lyrics, as he explained that his wife was the inspiration for one of his latest songs. Possibly the most daunting reminder of his brother's fame during show came from a presumably inebriated fan who enjoyed shouting “Captain Walker” between every song, as if to make sure Townshend didn't forget the path through which his fan-base had come to him. But if the heckling affected Townshend in any way, it didn't show. He was in good spirits throughout and thanked the audience for coming and made sure to push his EP and an expected studio album to arrive early next year.

Townshend's playing technique upclose and apparently personal.

For those only familiar with the more well-known side of the Townshend family, I suggest picking up a copy of simontownshendis, a compilation of Simon's work that should set you off in the right direction. And if you find yourself unable to disconnect from the “Pete connection” and wish to know Simon's feelings on being related to one of the most famous figures, if not noses, in rock history, check out the track “Highness.”

Re-Vinyl: LP Revival

Now that we're a decade into the 21st century, you'd think that we would have completely moved on from archaic forms of, well, anything. Films are on DVD, or downloaded; VHS is dead and laser-discs are the cinematic equivalent to mummies. Music is no different. CD's are becoming as desirable as cassettes were fifteen years ago, competing against digital formats and the iTunes powerhouse. Therefore, vinyl is utterly dead, right?

Not so much. According to this article, vinyl records have made a massive comeback in the past few years. But why? The same article gives a few suggestions: nostalgic value for older generations, the retro-cool factor for younger generations, and the personal connection the listener has with the music.

To me, this is the most important and enjoyable part of listening to vinyl. As a listener, you're more aware of the music when you have to place a needle on the surface, careful not to scratch the delicate grooves. You have to play attention to know when to flip the record, or change to the second record. Paying attention is necessary when listening to a good album. I know I have been guilty in the past of mindlessly listening to amazing music and not absorbing it the way the artists intended, which I believe is the major curse of the digital age. I've placed my headphones over my ears, the jack inserted into my iPod, set on shuffle, only to realize an hour or so later as I stare bleary-eyed at my laptop that I can't even remember what I had just been listening to. Vinyl doesn't allow it as easily. The second you start playing an LP, you are much more determined to pay attention to the tracks and the placement of the needle, at the very least with the intent not to damage the disc from neglect.

Why do I even collect vinyl? I developed the habit thanks to my father, who was smart enough to never get rid of his collection from his youth. Many of my friends haven't been so lucky, and have mentioned that their parents had abandoned their collections years ago. But thankfully my father's records live on, and at a young age, for whatever reason, I was fascinated. At the age of seven I knew how to use our old, now sadly deceased Technics turntable and I became proficient at repeating "King Tut" off  A Wild and Crazy Guy. And as I grew older and developed a more refined taste and understanding for my father's music, I wanted to expand upon the collection he had begun, and fill in the gaps with my own interests. As a result, my dad's three or four Pink Floyd albums have become eight or nine, his four Who records now stand a dozen or more strong, and every Kinks record in my household exists only because I sought them out (and that number is more than thirty, not including 45s). So my reasons for desiring vinyl stem from my relationship with my father and the connection we share with good music.

Of course, my reason is not that of everyone. Having frequented the Brooklyn Flea and several record shops in Greenwich Village, NYC, I can tell you that vinyl collectors are everywhere. Unfortunately, there is a small number of people who collect for the sheer necessity of maintaining their hipster chic lifestyles. Retro is in, and having vinyl records and a travel-case turntable look great in instagram photos off of one's iPhone, posted on Facebook for the world to see. There are budding musicians who buy vinyl to keep up a certain amount of audio-credibility amongst their peers. Although, there is good reason according to a musician friend of mine who says the clarity and quality is superior in vinyl records than current MP3 formats, which compress the music too much. Admittedly too many concerts and long periods of time wearing headphones have ruining my ability to picking up such subtleties, but I don't doubt his claim. But for the most part, I believe the majority of collectors do it for the pure love of the format and a love of music.

The cyclic fashion world has also allowed for vinyl to survive. As I said, retro is always "in," and vinyl records appear in trendy graphic designs on t-shirts (again, for those hipster fashionistas). They are also recycled for centerpieces in your home or even jewelry. A quick search on Google reveals hundreds of projects one can take on to recycle unplayable or non-collectible records into anything from clocks, purses, and bowls, to coasters, bracelets, and even book covers. And perhaps we should be proud of this record recycling, especially with green living slowly on the rise. Rather than expanding landfills with useless discs, the vinyl is metamorphosis-ed into something usable and artistic, even if the music imprinted in the grooves is lost forever. And on a further artistic note, vinyl record sleeves preserve the art of the album cover, which was once almost as much a selling point as the music contained within. The limited picture size of CD's and digital downloads cannot match the beauty of a twelve-by-twelve image. Sometimes size does matter.

Will the rise in record sales, the increase of new and old record vendors, and the interest in relatively old format continue? I certainly don't have the qualifications to guess. I can only hope so, because I still have records to find.

Celebrating the Life of George Harrison

When I go to concerts, I've always ever gone to see an actual "favorite artist" live, never imitations and tributes. But last night I made an exception to go to a special tribute show, of sorts, at B. B. King's Bar and Grill in NYC. It was a celebration of the life of George Harrison, who was and still is my favorite Beatle (because, let's face it, everyone has a favorite Beatle). I also made this exception because the band performing in this tribute is one of my personal favorite live NY bands, about whom you've heard me discuss before on this blog: The Godfrey Townsend Band.

The show was part live narration by Joshua Greene, author of Here Comes the Sun: The Spiritual and Musical Journey of George Harrison, with musical interludes of Harrison's most beloved tunes as performed by the band. There were also lovely clips shown of Harrison, discussing the power of spirituality in his life and music.

The show started off a bit rocky, as some inebriated audience members frequently announced their displeasure that the show was not 100% music by shouting rudely in between Greene's narration. "Play some music!" and "God forbid you play a song!" were common interruptions, to the annoyance of the rest of the crowd who were enjoying the show. Finally, GTB bassist John Montagna took the mic and sternly, but politely, reminded the audience that if they were incapable of reading, the bill did advertise that there would be narration as well as music, and to please keep their mouths shut so that everyone else could enjoy; he was greeted with an enthusiastic applause from the rest of the crowd and the remainder of the show carried on without a hitch. There were corny jokes and interesting facts about Harrison that I personally found intellectually stimulated. For instance, we were told that it took the Royal Mail seven trucks to deliver Harrison's fan mail to him on his 21st birthday. What a great little tidbit and view into the Beatlemania craze!

Apologies to all for my poor cell phone quality picture.

The band performed many of Harrison's most memorable songs from his days in the Beatles as well as his solo career. In particular I enjoyed "Give Me Love (Give Me Peace On Earth)" and of course, Godfrey Townsend's searing guitar work on "While My Guitar Gently Weeps," as he is always so apt at Eric Clapton's style. After Joshua Greene's presentation ended, the band carried on a bit longer with more of Harrison's early Beatle hits and even the Cream classic "Badge," famously co-written by Harrison.  "What do you do about the man who steals your wife?" the band asks the crowd. "You write songs with him! That'll show him!"

The band was in top form and the show itself was a beautiful tribute to a wonderful artist and human being. For anyone who is interested in the Godfrey Townsend Band, they will be performing at B. B. King's again on April 1st for the 10th Annual Eric Clapton Birthday Celebration. I urge everyone to check the show out.

Literary Lyrical

The bands I tend to fall in love with are bands that have lyrics that tell stories through their lyrics. That's why I really admire songwriters like Pete Townshend, Ray Davies, and Roger Waters; their lyrics open up the imagination and create vivid imagery in my mind every time I play one of their albums. Perhaps that's why I'm also attracted to concept albums and the like.

But I also appreciate the songwriter who acknowledges the power of storytelling, not just in music, but in actual literary history. In college, I majored in Literature, and being a music lover, I was prone to making literary connections to the music I listened to.

Here are some of my favorite "literary" songs, that either reference or acknowledge literature:

• "Paperback Writer" by The Beatles -- Okay, this first one is just a song about being an author and writing novels. How can you not love the narrator's desperation to get his work published? This is a classic, people.
• "Don't Stand So Close to Me" by The Police -- For the line "He starts to shake and cough / Just like the old man in / That book by Nabokov." This is a reference to Lolita, in case you haven't bothered to look that up by now.
• "Misty Mountain Hop" by Led Zeppelin -- I'm not afraid to admit that I'm a bit of a Tolkien nerd. I love this trippy interpretation of The Hobbit. Of course, Zeppelin fans will know that this is not the only time Robert Plant has referenced Tolkien's work in song. "Ramble On" is the next obvious choice, and there is still debate on whether or not "Stairway to Heaven" contains any allusions.
• "Sympathy for the Devil" by the Rolling Stones -- This is another contested literary allusion, but many people believe the subject for this bass-driven tune were inspired by The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov, which is an amazing novel along the lines of Goethe's Faust. Care for a little philosophical debate on the motives of Satan?
• Black Magic: All Mysteries Revealed by Year Long Disaster -- I had to follow that last song with this album by a still relatively unknown, but great contemporary band. This second album is also loosely based on Bulgakov's novel. "Sparrow Hill" is my favorite track off this album, and I think captures the mood of the novel best.
• "Where Are They Now?" by The Kinks -- This song is especially close to my heart because the literary references made in this song were partly the subject of my senior thesis in college. Here Ray Davies references the great authors of the "Angry Young Man" genre, popular in the 1950s and immortalized in film adaptations in the early '60s. "Where are all the angry young men now? / Barstow and Osborne, Waterhouse and Sillitoe / Where on earth did they all go?". Think of these authors as early rockers who couldn't afford a guitar. Recommended reading: Saturday Night and Sunday Morning by Alan Sillitoe.
• Animals by Pink Floyd -- Here's another album with a popular literary influence. Roger Waters takes the animal metaphors of George Orwell's Animal Farm and updates them with his concerns for politics, capitalism, and a lack of empathy in society. This album was released just before the Thatcher years in England.
• "Tales of Brave Ulysses" by Cream -- Cream's music is always a bit of an Odyssey, but this song transforms Homer's epic poem into a psychedelic hit. Want to trip out without taking dropping acid and listening to Cream? Try reading James Joyce's Ulysses sober; this Homeric tale will mess your head up just as much. (It's been two years since I read it in college and my brain still hurts.)
• "Empty Glass" by Pete Townshend -- In a 1980 Rolling Stone interview, Townshend explains that his spiritual song was based on the work of Hafiz, a Persian Sufi poet who "used to talk about God's love being wine, and that we learn to be intoxicated and that the heart is like an empty cup." Interested in Sufi poetry? Rumi is another popular poet.

Now go listen to those songs, but don't forget to pick up a book once in a while too.

What's for tea, darling?

One thing I enjoy doing is creating fun playlists that tie songs together with common threads that are a little more fun than "Dance Music" or "Stuff to Listen to While I Exercise."

For instance, I am an avid tea drinker. I was raised on tea, thanks to the influence of my grandfather, whose parents immigrated to the US from Scotland in the 1920s. As I grew older and developed my love for what is usually termed "classic rock" I became enamored with British bands and came to discover many songs that were about tea, or at least mentioned tea in the passing. And so I have created a rather lengthy playlist of such songs. But rather than bore you with the entire list, here are just 5 great songs about or mentioning tea, for your enjoyment.

1. "Have a Cuppa Tea" | The Kinks -- I thought I would begin with the obvious choice. This Kinks classic, from the 1972 album  Muswell Hillbillies, boasts of the benefits of drinking tea, from its apparent cure-all magic to its power to unite people despite class or political differences. This bouncy song includes the clever chorus of "Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah Rosie Lea." To the unknowing listener, this may seem an odd interuption in a song about tea, until one realizes that the name Rosie Lea is actually cockney-rhyming slang for tea. Tea is a topic mentioned in many a Kinks tune; another great song is "Afternoon Tea" from Something Else By the Kinks.
2. "Tea & Theatre" | The Who -- A more recent track from a great old band, this song from the 2006 album Endless Wire is a bit of a tear jerker. Its a song of memory and loss and a search for comfort, which happens, in some part, to come in the form of a good old cup of tea. This is the first Who track to feature the drink in its title, but not the first mention of it in song. Just one example is on 1971 Who's Next; the song "Going Mobile" featured Townshend singing "make the toast and tea." How English.
3.  "Tea for One" | Led Zeppelin -- There's no mention of tea in this song's lyrics whatsoever, but who doesn't love a 9.5 minute Zeppelin rocker? Jimmy Page's guitar work on this track is phenomenal on this bluesy number, and John Bonham's slow, clear drumming is sure to hypnotize the listener. Presence is worth the buy just for this song alone.
4. "Lost in the Supermarket" | The Clash -- The London Calling album is a collection of many amazing songs, and this is perhaps my second favorite track. Our tea track here comes from the second verse, in which the narrator claims that he "save[s] coupons from packets of tea." Not only does this line speak of immense "Englishness" but also of class politics. You're not saving coupons unless you need to save a bit of dough on your groceries. This song is a great nostolgic classic which looks at class politics and superficialiaty.
5. "I'll Be Late for Tea" | Blossom Toes -- I honestly never heard of this band or knew of this song until I happened upon it from a cd included with an issue of Mojo magazine. And I still don't know anything about the band other than this song, but I must say, I quite enjoy it. Featured on the band's album We Are Ever So Clean, it's a trippy song with lyrics that don't make much sense and border on a dream-like state of consciousness, but it's also very up beat and very sixties.

So start building up a nice tea playlist of your own to play in the mid afternoon as you relax with a nice cuppa and perhaps a scone.

But beware the evils of tea: