The Band Ray Davies Said Made Themselves Legendary

In 2018, the seemingly impossible flickered into view: after decades of estrangement and public barbs, The Kinks appeared to be inching toward a reunion. Ray Davies even confirmed to Channel 4 News that he had returned to the studio with his brother Dave and original drummer Mick Avory.

For a band whose internal dynamic had long been synonymous with volatility, the development felt nothing short of extraordinary. The Davies brothers’ relationship—defined more by friction than harmony—had historically stood in the way of any sustained revival. Yet, for a brief moment, the idea of new material from one of Britain’s most influential rock groups seemed tangible.

What pushed that possibility into motion, however, was not purely nostalgia. It was, in part, a sense of competitive admiration directed at their contemporaries.

The Stones Blueprint: Precision, Chaos, and Control

While The Kinks wrestled with unresolved tensions, The Rolling Stones were thriving on their No Filter tour across the UK and Europe. Decades into their career, the band—fronted by Mick Jagger—continued to command critical acclaim and massive audiences, defying expectations tied to age and longevity.

“It won’t be well-organised like The Rolling Stones,” Ray Davies remarked. “You must praise The Rolling Stones for being great at publicity… Mick Jagger has done an incredible PR job, and it’s kind of inspiring to see them doing it. But The Kinks will probably be playing the local bar.”

Behind the swagger, the Stones’ success has long been underpinned by meticulous planning. Jagger, often described as operating with the mindset of a corporate executive, maintained a tight grip on the band’s public image and media strategy. Their machine-like efficiency extended deep into their touring infrastructure.

Longtime publicist Alan Edwards illustrated this intensity in a 2024 Saga interview:

“The [1982] tour was well received, but never mind the 19th nervous breakdown; I started to worry if the intense pressure might give me my first. The band members wanted a report under their door each morning, including reviews of the previous night and the schedule of media to be done that day. Some days, I found myself running alongside Mick on his morning jog, reading him the previous day’s press clippings.”

Yet, for all their precision, the Stones also understood the power of unpredictability. In 1981, they famously announced a run of shows by performing on a flatbed truck through New York City—an impromptu spectacle inspired by Charlie Watts’ memories of jazz musicians. The stunt left journalists scrambling.

“Journalists raced after the flatbed, yelling at us, complaining that we’d promised them interviews,” Ronnie Wood recalled. “And the more they yelled, the more we yelled back, ‘Fuck you!’”

Even controversy became part of their mythology. The video for “Undercover of the Night,” banned by MTV and the BBC for its violent imagery, only reinforced their reputation as untouchable provocateurs. Crucially, while chaos played out publicly, the band maintained strict control behind the scenes, allowing them to re-emerge with Steel Wheels in 1989 as though their internal struggles had barely interrupted momentum.

Why The Kinks Couldn’t Follow Through

For The Kinks, however, replicating that balance of discipline and spectacle proved elusive. The 2018 studio sessions hinted at progress, but the deeper fractures within the band remained unresolved.

By December 2020, Ray Davies offered only cautious optimism in The New York Times: “I’d like to work with Dave again, if he’ll work with me.” A month later, Dave echoed the uncertainty:

“We’ve been talking about it. I mean, there’s a lot of material and, you know, it could still happen…”

Those statements reflected a familiar pattern—hope tempered by hesitation. Unlike the Stones, who built a framework capable of containing egos and disagreements, the Kinks never fully established a system that could outlast their personal conflicts. Creative differences, once a source of brilliance, became barriers too entrenched to overcome.

By March 2023, Mick Avory delivered the clearest assessment yet, effectively closing the chapter on reunion speculation. “I don’t think it’s possible now; one thing, health-wise,” he said. “And I don’t think we could ever work it out because Dave wanted to do it one way, and Ray wanted to do it the other, which was quite normal thinking for them.”

In the end, The Kinks’ story underscores a truth that even the most legendary bands cannot escape: longevity in rock and roll is not just about talent or legacy, but about the ability to evolve relationships as much as sound. Where The Rolling Stones turned internal tension into a managed, almost institutional force, The Kinks remained tethered to a more fragile dynamic—one that produced brilliance, but resisted reconciliation.

The result is a legacy preserved rather than extended. And perhaps that, in its own way, is fitting: a band whose identity was built on tension ultimately leaves behind a catalogue that never needed resolution to remain essential.