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Sunday, Nov 22, 2009
Ray quickly set about convincing the band's managers that a rerecording was necessary, a request that was initially dismissed. After a good deal of groveling, however, manager Larry Page thought he had found a solution. Kassner Music, the Kinks' publishing company, had not yet signed over its mechanical reproduction rights to the Pye label. That meant that the group could refuse to grant mechanical rights until the song was rerecorded, and if Pye went ahead with its planned release date, it could face legal action. The label was furious about the threat, but it worked. The Kinks were granted permission to rerecord the song.
The band's managers had to loan them the money for the second recording session, about 200 pounds (perhaps $1,500 in today's money), as Dave Davies recalls in his autobiography, "Kink." The recording was done at London's IBC Studios in July 1964, once again with Talmy producing and Bobby Graham on drums. (By this point the Kinks had found a permanent drummer in Mick Avory, but Talmy insisted on Graham and relegated Avory to tambourine.) Arthur Greenslade joined the lineup on piano. Conditions were nerve-racking. There were to be no overdubs, as that would result in lowered sound quality, and the group had just three hours to get the recording right.
When the first take was over, Ray Davies still wasn't satisfied. Talmy reluctantly let him have a second try, but it was obvious that the producer, engineer and drummer were growing impatient. Davies felt as though he was being treated like a spoiled child being indulged by the adults. After all, he was an unproven songwriter with no hit records to his credit, so why should he receive any favors?
As Ray Davies recalls in his own autobiography, "X-Ray," "When Dave played the opening chords, Bobby Graham forgot the complicated introduction he had planned and just thumped one beat on the snare drum with as much power as he could muster, as if to say, 'OK, wimp, take that!'" The aggression resulted in just the primitive sound that was needed. Greenslade's repetitive piano riff took on a similarly nasty tone.
When it was time for the guitar solo, Ray yelled encouragement at Dave "and spoiled his concentration momentarily. He looked over at me with a dazed expression, as if he had done something wrong." Instead of blowing the solo, though, "His face broke into that arrogant sideways smile that I had learned to love and hate over the years. The little runt hadn't even heard me shout."
The blistering guitar sound on "You Really Got Me" remains the most intriguing element of the song. The unique sound was achieved with an inexpensive eight- or 10-watt amp called an Elpico, which Dave Davies bought at a radio shop for about six pounds. In "Kink," the guitarist recalls his first, nearly fatal experiment with the amp: After hooking his guitar into the Elpico, he plugged the Elpico into a 60-watt Linear amp, plugged that into a radiogram, then plugged that into a Vox AC 30. As soon as he turned on the main power, a surge of electricity sent Davies flying across the room. Luckily for rock 'n' roll fans, he tried again.
The next time, he again plugged his guitar into the Elpico, and then plugged the Elpico's output leads into the AC 30's inputs. The last step used to achieve just the right fuzzed-out sound is up for debate. Dave Davies claims he cut the speaker cone of the Elpico with a razor blade so the fabric contributed to the overall sound as it vibrated. As Ray Davies recalls it, his brother didn't just slit the amp, but stuck knitting needles into it, dubbing the contraption "the fart box." According to Ray Davies in "X-Ray," at an early gig, he, Dave and Pete Quaife all plugged into the amp, which was not loud enough for three guitars. The manager of the club pulled them offstage amid boos from the crowd, "but the green amp, attached by the umbilical cord of our guitars, continued to perform."
Once the second take of "You Really Got Me" was over, Ray Davies knew that he had a winner. Now it was time to record his vocals. Ray thought about how poor his voice had sounded on the first recording and was determined to sing clearly. He imagined himself writing the song in his parents' front room, where the large Davies family had enjoyed so many singalongs around the piano. Then he saw himself onstage singing to a girl in the front row. He began to sing to her, "Girl, you really got me now ..." Everything was working out at last. On the way home from the recording session, everyone bubbled with the excitement of knowing they had recorded a hit. Ray Davies "thought just how marvelous the experience had been and how lucky I was just to have got this far, to have one of my wishes come true ... I had just been born."
