{grate 3} If our grandparents grew up in the modern age and our
parents were raised in the postmodern age, what is the age of our generation?
The post-postmodern age? This lack of concrete identity in a world of
increasingly ambivalent ambiguity is the cross Ray Davies carries through his
second solo album, Working Man’s Cafe. Granted, the former Kinks front man —
yes, the same Brit band which undeservedly fell by the superstardom wayside
against the Beatles and the Who — is pushing senior citizen status, but don’t let
that stop you from thinking he’s any less concerned about these absurdist
times.

In fact, when it comes to yuppie rockers lambasting
latter-day culture (remember Neil Young two years ago?), Davies’ songwriting,
laced in doubt and confusion, may be the most honest of them all.

Assuming the voice of the everyman worker, Davies — whose
voice still has its world-weary traveler wail — confesses his fears and
observations to unnamed lovers through every modern angle: globalization
(“Vietnam Cowboys”), constant warfare (“Peace In Our Time”), and faith (“Hymn
For a New Age”). The guitars are angry and there’s barely a tune set under a
jogger’s pace, but Davies steers the album from blind politicization when it
would have been all too easy. “You’re Asking Me” comes as a clear indicator
that he wants nothing to do with changing the world anymore. He just wants to
survive.

For the few of you who proudly wear your Kinks fandom on
your sleeves, Cafe’s tracks — damn catchy, if not particularly memorable — come
off as minor but welcomed. Unlike other Invasion songwriters, Davies’ penchant
for crafting lyrical melodies didn’t burn out at midlife. Rather, after a
20-year hiatus (his first solo album appeared only last year), it’s more that
all this music has built up in his system and he’s too compelled to not play
it. By the final refrain of closer “The Real World,” it’s apparent that this
new burst of creativity is not only personal and faintly political, but also an
exorcism of the pop star’s demons.