The Kinks at the Palladium, NYC

On this date — June 2, 1978 — I saw my favorite band, the Kinks, at the Palladium.

It was a Friday night, and a bunch of us were celebrating at McSorley’s Old Ale House in the East Village. Some of us — me, Luke, Emmett — had already graduated from John Dewey High School the year before. Class of ’77. I had just finished my freshman year at NYU and was still living in Brooklyn. But a big chunk of our crew — Dave, Danny, Ellen, Jamie, John — had just graduated the week before (Class of ’78), so there was plenty to celebrate, and McSorley’s brown ale was flowing at industrial strength levels.

That night, the Kinks were playing two shows at the Palladium on 14th Street: an 8:00 show and an 11:30 show. I was a completely rabid Kinks fan and already had a ticket for the late show. The only other person I remember definitely having one was Ellen. It seems odd that she and I would be the only ones attending a Kinks concert, but if anyone else was there, they’ve vanished completely from my memory.

At some point around 11:00, Ellen and I peeled ourselves away from the chaos at McSorley’s and headed over to the Palladium. Ellen had made a giant banner out of a bedsheet that read: RAY DAVIES FOR PRESIDENT. The plan, naturally, was to hold it up during the show.

We found our seats in the back right side of the orchestra. The opening act was a completely forgettable band called Charlie, memorable only because they had two drummers.

But while Charlie’s music didn’t leave much of an impression, the opening set did become memorable for another reason.

All of that McSorley’s ale had begun staging a full-scale revolt inside Ellen’s stomach.

Without much warning, she suddenly unleashed a torrent of brown ale all over the Palladium floor, our seats, my left leg, and — tragically — the “Ray Davies for President” banner. Since the banner was white, and McSorley’s ale was very brown both going down and coming back up, the damage was, shall we say, visually dramatic.

Needless to say, the banner never made its concert debut. (It remained an excellent napkin, though.)

The Kinks were touring behind Misfits, which had only been released about two weeks earlier. I loved the previous album, Sleepwalker. Misfits wasn’t quite as strong, but it had some terrific tracks, especially the ultra-rocking “Live Life.”

Back at McSorley’s, we’d been debating what songs they might play. Ellen mentioned that she’d love to hear “Get Back in Line,” one of her favorite Kinks songs. I told her it seemed pretty unlikely. They almost never played it live.

The Kinks came out absolutely roaring. Ray Davies, looking snazzy in his dark suit and bowtie, was in great form, and the band sounded tight. They opened with three tracks from Sleepwalker - “Life on the Road,” “Sleepwalker,” and “Mr. Big Man” – and then moved into classics like “Waterloo Sunset,” “Lola,” and “Celluloid Heroes.” Midway through the show, surprisingly, they played “You Really Got Me,” which they usually saved for the finale.

And then came the moment.

I don’t remember Ray’s exact introduction, but it was something like: “Here’s one from Lola Versus Powerman and the Moneygoround…”

The second he said it, I thought: HOLY SHIT.

I turned toward Ellen, who had completely lost her mind, as Ray began singing the opening lines to “Get Back in Line.”

It was one of those perfect concert moments that burns itself permanently into your memory.

The rest of the set was packed with classics: “A Well Respected Man,” “Sunny Afternoon,” “Alcohol,” “Death of a Clown,” “All Day and All of the Night,” and finally “Live Life,” which absolutely exploded live. The Kinks had just added a new bass player, Jim Rodford, and he and Dave played well together, and on Live Life, it showed. 

What still amazes me is this: years later, I found the setlist from the earlier 8 PM show.

“Get Back in Line” wasn’t on it.

Most bands, if they’re going to do two shows in one night, tend to keep the same setlist for both. The list for both shows was nearly identical; maybe a song or two was played in a different order.  But the one song Ellen most wanted to hear — the song I told her they probably wouldn’t play — showed up in our show, and not in the early one.

Sometimes concert gods smile on you. Even if they destroy your banner first.