Woke up yesterday with a peculiar earworm: The Kinks’ ‘Come Dancing’. It’s undeniably catchy, a pop-infused track that, while not their most profound work, undeniably broadened The Kinks’ fanbase, particularly in the early 1980s when it climbed the charts. As someone who caught the tail end of that wave, revisiting “Come Dancing” after two decades, I was struck by its sonic divergence from The Kinks’ classic sound. It’s distinctly an 80s creation, marked by that era’s signature keyboard riffs. Yet, beneath the surface, hints of ska and reggae rhythms pulse, evident in the beat and Ray Davies’ vocal delivery. Even the horns, intended to evoke the Big Band era, carry a distinct echo of bands like The Specials, intentionally blurring temporal lines.
The Kinks frontman Ray Davies sings about the relentless march of progress, symbolized by the replacement of cherished landmarks. The lyrics paint a picture of a changing landscape: a parking lot now stands where the supermarket once thrived, itself built upon the grounds of the beloved local palais de danse. This palais was the Saturday night haven for Davies’ elder sister in the 40s and 50s, a place where big bands played and romance blossomed on the dance floor. Each suitor, the song recounts, would eagerly ask her to “come dancing.”
In many ways, “Come Dancing” encapsulates the 1980s obsession with 1950s nostalgia. This wave permeated pop culture as the first baby boomers, hitting their 40s, sought to reconnect with their youth. Davies, at 38 during the song’s recording, was himself part of this demographic. This nostalgic yearning, interwoven with emerging British musical styles, is what makes “Come Dancing” so compelling. Repeated listens reveal layers of meaning, musicality, and message within this seemingly simple pop song.
At its heart, “Come Dancing” is steeped in nostalgia, primarily focusing on Ray Davies’ sister’s experiences as a young woman in the 1950s. It portrays a more innocent time, where young men courted with modest means, hoping for “a cuddle and a peck on the cheek.” It’s a lighthearted reminiscence, yet a deeper current runs beneath the surface, triggered by a poignant lyric:
The day they knocked down the palais
My sister stood and cried
The day they knocked down the palais
Part of my childhood died, just died
This raw emotion resonates with the concept of nostalgia as understood by Svetlana Boym, a leading scholar on the subject. Boym argued that nostalgia is not mere sentimentality but a genuine emotional response to loss and change, a form of psychological impact. Davies’ lyrics capture this sentiment perfectly. It’s easy to imagine his sister’s tears and his own sense of childhood fading as the palais, a symbol of a bygone era, was demolished.
The palais’ demise, however, was inevitable. It was a relic of a fading era. Big bands had given way to rock and roll. Ironically, Ray and his brother Dave Davies were at the forefront of this very musical revolution as founders of The Kinks, a band that helped usher in the new culture that eclipsed the one their older sister had known.
“Come Dancing” is, in fact, a tribute to Ray’s sister, René. In 1957, during a visit from Canada, where she lived with an abusive husband, René gifted Ray the Spanish guitar he longed for on his 13th birthday. Tragically, during that same visit, René, who had a heart condition, passed away from a heart attack on the dance floor of the Lyceum in London. This deeply personal tragedy adds another layer to the song’s nostalgic core. Decades later, René’s death remained a profound emotional touchstone for Davies. He himself acknowledged that “Come Dancing” was written to evoke the 50s, a conscious effort to reconnect The Kinks with their roots after their 70s stadium rock phase.
Nostalgia, as “Come Dancing” illustrates, is a complex tapestry of emotions and experiences. Davies, a key figure in the movement that displaced the big band era, was also profoundly shaped by his sister, a devotee of that very scene, who ultimately died on a dance floor. Decades later, the loss of the palais became intertwined with the loss of childhood itself. The Davies of his late 30s understood the nuances of this loss in a way the younger Davies couldn’t.
“Come Dancing,” despite its 80s production sheen, remains a poignant exploration of nostalgia, memory, and the ever-shifting tides of culture. Perhaps a contemporary reimagining, stripping away some of the dated keyboard sounds, could reveal the timeless emotional core of this Kinks classic and introduce it to yet another new generation.
