If life's for livin' then what's livin' for
It seems a life ago I made a break from The City
No more chipped and fading formstone facades
No more crushing crowds
No staggering drunkards serenades
No vibrant culture clashes
Working poor on after-dinner stoops comforting the crying Queen in glittery
platforms (a sob is a sob, and every man's shoulder brings comfort and peace)
No suits of lavender
Or chartreuse hair
Or Easter Parades
Cherry blossoms and smells of cake and sawdust
Sweet tang of sugar burning in the air
From millions to 70,000 is a only a cutting of extremes, of highs and lows. The dreams are the same - escape to a place that is different, a place that must be better, livelier, where dreams come true. A country man may think of The City as opportunity, a city girl may dream of the time when she can escape the confines of brick, concrete and steel. Happiness in escape, in change of air and opportunity. Listening to Muswell Hillbillies exposes the lie of The Grail, of redemption through escape. London boys hoping to escape the city of mechanization, uniformity, conformity - to be extraordinary in a world of ordinary. Where to escape? West Virginia? Oklahoma? The classic beach Holiday in Brighton fails - we can't even bring back memories now, the boardwalk a burnt ember, sparked on land and doused in the Atlantic. America - across the sea, land of opportunity - a country riff or slide guitar will take us there like James' Peach on the waves of belief.
Is there a better evocation of hopes and dreams, of shattered men with broken lives where no decision leads to a better outcome? These are the fathers of Sam Lowry, the children of Yank. Ray Davies sings without the hope of redemption or freedom except in the mind. It is the voice of determination, not desire, an almost blank acceptance that in this way lies madness. The recognition of this is the escape itself, knowing that the schizophrenia and degeneration are the way to deal with societies traps and games. In a 1972 Circus Magazine interview, Davies said, "Leaving Rosie Rooke behind is like leaving everything behind. She symbolized all that for me." The new evolution crushes the old dreams and hopes, replacing them with concrete convenience.
It fails in reverse as well - the country dreams of the city fall victim to barred windows and broken glass, the crushing uniformity that absorbs and swallows and the next generation dreams of "Country Roads." Escape is never possible, and Davies never sang of happy sanity. It's all a fool's game, and you have to enjoy the playing, not the role or the outcome.
No more chipped and fading formstone facades
No more crushing crowds
No staggering drunkards serenades
No vibrant culture clashes
Working poor on after-dinner stoops comforting the crying Queen in glittery
platforms (a sob is a sob, and every man's shoulder brings comfort and peace)
No suits of lavender
Or chartreuse hair
Or Easter Parades
Cherry blossoms and smells of cake and sawdust
Sweet tang of sugar burning in the air
From millions to 70,000 is a only a cutting of extremes, of highs and lows. The dreams are the same - escape to a place that is different, a place that must be better, livelier, where dreams come true. A country man may think of The City as opportunity, a city girl may dream of the time when she can escape the confines of brick, concrete and steel. Happiness in escape, in change of air and opportunity. Listening to Muswell Hillbillies exposes the lie of The Grail, of redemption through escape. London boys hoping to escape the city of mechanization, uniformity, conformity - to be extraordinary in a world of ordinary. Where to escape? West Virginia? Oklahoma? The classic beach Holiday in Brighton fails - we can't even bring back memories now, the boardwalk a burnt ember, sparked on land and doused in the Atlantic. America - across the sea, land of opportunity - a country riff or slide guitar will take us there like James' Peach on the waves of belief.
Is there a better evocation of hopes and dreams, of shattered men with broken lives where no decision leads to a better outcome? These are the fathers of Sam Lowry, the children of Yank. Ray Davies sings without the hope of redemption or freedom except in the mind. It is the voice of determination, not desire, an almost blank acceptance that in this way lies madness. The recognition of this is the escape itself, knowing that the schizophrenia and degeneration are the way to deal with societies traps and games. In a 1972 Circus Magazine interview, Davies said, "Leaving Rosie Rooke behind is like leaving everything behind. She symbolized all that for me." The new evolution crushes the old dreams and hopes, replacing them with concrete convenience.
It fails in reverse as well - the country dreams of the city fall victim to barred windows and broken glass, the crushing uniformity that absorbs and swallows and the next generation dreams of "Country Roads." Escape is never possible, and Davies never sang of happy sanity. It's all a fool's game, and you have to enjoy the playing, not the role or the outcome.
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