Ray Davies versus the autobiography, part 2

Leave it to Ray Davies to take on an autobiography as a creative challenge.  Twice.

Rather than give his fans a chronological account of facts and anecdotes about his life, the former singer and songwriter of the Kinks has twice chosen a different approach.  Almost 20 years ago, he authored X-Ray, which can be described as a semi-fictional autobiography.  Late last year, he released Americana, which presents the British star's experience in the United States.  Of course, they are both great reads.

In Americana, Davies explains the influence US music and films had on his artistic development as a child in suburban London.  He goes on to describe the Kinks first US tour in 1965, on the heels of the British Invasion, and their comeback tour in the fall of 1969.  Comeback from what, you might ask, since the Kinks continued recording and releasing good music in the intervening years?

Davies' mind, now almost 70 years old, isn't quite so sharp on this point.  At various points in Americana, he writes he doesn't know why the Kinks were banned from performing in the US for four years in the late 1960s.  Near the end of the book, however, he indicates it was probably because of an issue with a concert promoter.

Davies goes on to describe how important the US music market was for the Kinks as the band continued evolving during the 1970s, switching labels and management and, by the 1980s, playing venues as large as Madison Square Garden.  He recalls forcing Bill Graham to keep his word when the Kinks took the stage in front of hundreds of thousands of people at the US Festival in San Bernardino in 1982.

Davies also writes with pride about being inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and playing at its inaugural concert at Cleveland Stadium in 1995 -- which turned out to be the final Kinks concert in the US.  Davies did return as a solo performer 10 years later, reading excerpts from his X-Ray autobiography and playing stripped-down versions of Kinks songs.  I was fortunate to catch him at the McCarter Theater in Princeton in 1997.

A significant part of Americana, however, centers around New Orleans.  Specifically, Davies writes much about his experiences in this unique US city, including the shooting which almost ended his life in January of 2004.  It's these passages about New Orleans, which break up the chronological order in which he presents his American experience, which are the most telling.  They're a ray of light into his mind and soul, with a poignancy about his life, the muse he followed, the ambitions he harbored, the relationships he valued, not stated elsewhere in his writings, but understood and appreciated by Davies' fans.  He also provides new insights into the unique lure of New Orleans.

Reading Americana had me thinking about the times I saw the Kinks in concert.  In late July of 1979, they played a great show at the Asbury Park Convention Hall, a venue for a 1977 performance Davies describes "like playing Southend-on-Sea at an English seaside resort.  Great audience; say no more.”

In July of 1987, the Kinks played one of the last concerts at the Capitol Theatre in Passaic, New Jersey, located in a part of town in which one or two old movie theaters screened pornography, which was also accessible from surrounding shops.  Davies introduced a new Kinks song, "Welcome to Sleazy Town," by alluding to these facts.

Having played at the Capitol Theatre at least five other times since 1972, I'm sure Davies was familiar with Passaic, where I also saw Elvis Costello, the Ramones, Patti Smith Group, the Who, Joe Jackson, the Clash, Pretenders, Adam and the Ants, Missing Persons, the Thompson Twins, REM and others.  British or American, it's questionable if anyone from these acts can write about their experiences on these shores like Ray Davies -- who has inspired many of them in the nearly 50 years since the Kinks first landed at Kennedy Airport.

Will Davies ever pen a conventional autobiography?  If so, would it be as interesting as X-Ray or Americana?  A definite maybe...you really got me...he's one to give the people what they want...not just a face in the crowd...but already a well respected man...one of the survivors...a 20th century man...killing time...hoping for better things...as his life goes on.

A businessman as an artist and scientist

When he was a graduate student at the University of Pennsylvania Wharton School, Herman Mihalich wrote a business plan for a microbrewery.  After graduating, he embarked on a successful career in the specialty chemicals industry.  Over the years, he observed the rise in popularity of craft beers and sometimes wondered: What would have happened if I implemented my business plan for a microbrewery?

Three years ago, Herman wrote a business plan for a small batch whiskey distillery.  He found a business partner, lined up a group of investors, and located a site in Bristol, Pennsylvania, to base the operation. Today, Dad's Hat Pennsylvania Rye Whiskey can be purchased in liquor stores and taverns.  

When I last saw Herman before this winter, he was an executive at the U.S. headquarters of a large global specialty chemicals company.  His Ivy League education, strong work ethic and direct approach to meeting challenges served him well.  His considerable skills and future potential had been recognized early in his career, and he spent five years at the company's Paris headquarters before returning to New Jersey to assume a series of increasingly important positions.

Herman seized an opportunity to join another major specialty chemicals company in an executive role in 2006. After three years, however, organizational changes there put him in a situation familiar to many middle-aged corporate executives in the U.S. today.  At a crossroad, he weighed his options and decided the time was right to pursue opening a craft whiskey distillery in Pennsylvania, the state where he was born and spent his childhood living above his family's tavern in Monessen.

"Making whiskey is part art and part science," Herman explained when I visited him at the Bristol distillery on a cold late January afternoon. "My experience as a chemical engineer has come in quite handy."

Herman and his business partner, John Cooper, roll up their sleeves to handle every aspect of their operation each week, from obtaining the raw ingredients, barrels and other supplies, to mixing and controlling the quality of each batch and marketing the bottles to distributors. In less than two years, the business became cash positive. Favorable reviews of the distillery's whiskey products have poured in from trade publications and other liquor experts.

Dad's Hat Pennsylvania Rye Whiskey is mostly sold in Pennsylvania, New Jersey and New York.  Herman is practicing his fluent French language skills, however, to try to expand the brand into the European country he lived in 20 years ago as a fledgling specialty chemicals industry executive.

On the Dad's Hat Pennsylvania Rye Whiskey web site and inside the Bristol distillery, there are vintage photos of Herman's parents and grandparents.  Perhaps it's indicative of the American spirit that the son of tavern owners can obtain a great education, work hard, see the world and return to his home state to open a business that supplies premium products to people like those in his family.