James Sandberg read that The Kinks are my favorite band and he wanted to know why.

That's a question I want to answer because it makes me come face to face (excuse me for dropping a Kinks album title into this) with the nature of my longtime love of The Kinks. 

It's a kind of worship that has been tested at times during the last 20 or so years through dodgy albums, meeting Kinks leader Ray Davies, a solo album I didn't really like (Other People's Lives) and competition from other enigmatic sources such as The Byrds or, especially, Love.

But I was reminded of The Kinks' greatness by hearing Picture Book. This is a six compact disc set that spans the band's career and is completed by demos and never heard versions of some well known songs. The first half is wonderful, but the second is the reminder that Davies can still produce some endearing songs and consequently might be more important. There is still a human heart at work.

That humanity is why I loved The Kinks in the first place. They erred frequently in a way that was so endearing. Rock gods don't slip on banana peels but The Kinks seemed to do it all the time. As well, The Kinks songs could make you laugh. I can't hear Dedicated Follower Of Fashion or Sunny Afternoon or Well Respected Man without smiling. By contrast, I can't listen to Dead End Street without feeling some kind of empathy or I'm Not Like Everybody Else without identification. A later song such as Better Things or The Real World (from Ray's solo album, Working Man's Cafe) tells me that that heart is still in the right place.

Ray and his brother Dave fought frequently and their public feuding has become a source of Kinks lore. While it created a rivalry that made the band both strong and headstrong that was one more reason to love them.  A family thing, anyone who has ever battled with a brother, or sister, understands.

The band drank, had nervous breakdowns, it battled with itself and others, it was banned in North America, it enjoyed enormous success and then, when it was making some of its best but most idiosyncratic music, enormous failure. The Kinks took on the role of the underdog and determinedly became an enormous success again, though at a cost. People left the group, the music became more tailored to the impersonal arena, Ray seemed to grow more opportunistic and cynical.

The Kinks became a campaign. God save The Kinks. Obviously, they weren't equipped  to save themselves. Somebody, the fans or God, had to do it.  Suggesting that The Kinks were constant screw ups made them seem all the more fallible, which deepened their humanity, which made me like them even more. Here was a group I could feel close to. I could laugh with them, enjoy the wit and intelligence, be touched by the poignancy of God's Children or See My Friends or Days, and relish the character of a band that let its Englishness show, raised questions about the importance of progress at the expense of old fashioned values, and defied trends. 

I also appreciated the showmanship. Davies is an entertainer who knows his audience and isn't afraid of it. That's an important plus. Many people who fancy themselves entertainers don't have confidence in their audience. They might profess to love the fans but they still don't trust them and so will pull back.

There was a moment in a Kinks concert where Ray pulled out a Heineken, shook it up and threatened to spray the front row, but didn't,  the tease. Conversely, Van Halen had just appeared a few weeks ago in a much larger venue and with a much larger show. Singer David Lee Roth declared there's a little Van Halen in all of us but when a few fans tried to touch him, sort of becoming one with Van Halen and thereby proving the point, and grabbed at the ribbons on his boots, he recoiled and scolded them. If I remember correctly, he yelled, "I'm going to climb down there and fuck your girlfriend."

Right. A few weeks later, Ray was delighting fans with a mere bottle of beer. Slapping fans hands, letting them grip him by the ankles then wiggling playfully away. These were small but telling gestures.

The Kinks didn't follow trends. They could have and likely would have been finished as soon as the trend had passed. Instead, they lived the words of I'm Not Like Everybody Else. This might have been to their detriment as The Kinks' career never recovered once their hits stopped and they aren't spoken of with the same reverence of The Who. Yet, there were those who followed The Kinks loyally whatever path they chose and that loyalty enabled the band to make a comeback. 

Arena-rock never really suited The Kinks but the band seized  its opportunity to make up for lost time, and who could blame it? Similarly, who could deny Ray Davies the belated praise that was poured on him? It led him astray temporarily but Working Man's Cafe suggests a return to form and there is talk of a reunion with Ray, Dave, Peter Quaife and Mick Avory. It's doubtful those original four will ever record another Waterloo Sunset but thank you for the Days nonetheless.