You know when you hear a burst of a song on the TV and then you have to go and play it in full? I was watching an episode of the PBS series The Vietnam War yesterday- it's half term, watching hour long episodes about the Vietnam War in the afternoon is what half terms are made for- and the episode in question was focusing on the first half on 1968 (in brief- the Tet Offensive, perceptions of who won and who lost the Tet Offensive, the execution of a VC suspect in the street by an ARVN general, problems piling up for Lyndon Johnson, the assassination of Martin Luther King, increasing anti- war rallies and protests, the assassination of Bobby Kennedy). At one point, as students fought with the police after occupying Colombia University in New York, this song played for maybe twenty seconds.
I'm Not Like Everybody Else was the B-side (the B- side!) to Sunny Afternoon, written by Ray Davies but sung by brother Dave, a snarly, defiant act of non- conformity, a celebration of outsider status. Dave's guitar sounds wonderful, crunchy and fuzzy, and the song is a superb three minutes twenty three seconds of 1966 bottled. The A- side isn't bad either...
Sunny Afternoon shows Ray's music hall roots, the descending piano part straight from the pre- rock 'n' roll era, the lyrics all superstar ennui and complaints about paying tax (Ray's writing in character but he himself is in there too I think).
I watched a documentary about The Kinks a while ago. Their singles from 1964- 1968, songs like You Really Got Me, All Day And All Of The Night, Tired Of Waiting For You, Set Me Free, See My Friends, Sunny Afternoon, Dead End Street, Waterloo Sunset and Days are as good as anybody else's from the period, if not better. In the documentary they spent a lot of time focussing on The Village Green Appreciation Society, released in 1969, an album I've not really ever clicked with. It's funny (funny peculiar) that even in the heat of the mid- to- late 60s with all that forward momentum that music was providing Ray Davies was pining for a world that for him vanished, lamenting the loss of the London of his childhood and writing nostalgic songs about village greens and steam trains.