I am still always so amazed how songwriters can compact such power into such a simple format. “I’m Not Like Everybody Else,” a song released by the Kinks in 1966, is certainly one of those. Ray Davies creates here in three minutes or so perhaps the definitive early pop postmodern/punk statement, snarling at a world of expectations he wants nothing to do with.
I won’t take all that they hand me down,
And make out a smile, though I wear a frown,
And I won’t take it all lying down,
‘cause once I get started I go to town.
‘cause I’m not like everybody else,
I’m not like everybody else,
I’m not like everybody else,
I’m not like everybody else.
And I don’t want to ball about like everybody else,
And I don’t want to live my life like everybody else,
And I won’t say that I’ve been fine like everybody else,
‘cause I’m not like everybody else,
I’m not like everybody else.
But darling, you know that I love you true,
Do anything that you want me to,
Confess all my sins like you want me to,
There’s one thing that I will say to you,
I’m not like everybody else,
I’m not like everybody else.
I’m not like everybody else,
I’m not like everybody else
And I don’t want to ball about like everybody else,
And I don’t want to live my life like everybody else,
And I won’t say that I’ve been fine like everybody else,
‘cause I’m not like everybody else,
I’m not like everybody else.
Like everybody else,
Like everybody else,
Like everybody else,
Like everybody else.
If you all want me to settle down,
Slow up and stop all my running round,
Do everything like you want me to,
There’s one thing that I will say to you,
I’m not like everybody else,
I’m not like everybody else.
I’m not like everybody else,
I’m not like everybody else.
And I don’t want to ball about like everybody else,
And I don’t want to live my life like everybody else,
And I won’t say that I’ve been fine like everybody else,
‘cause I’m not like everybody else,
I’m not like everybody else.
Like everybody else (like everybody else),
Like everybody else (like everybody else),
Like everybody else (like everybody else),
Like everybody else.
The sentiments aren’t novel – there has always been the angry young man – but the way he so plainly states that he’s just not going to do what you want him to means so much more than leather-jacketed greaseball misfit Johnny Rebel crashing his motorcycle over some dumb chick. Davies’ doesn’t want what came before, doesn’t want what’s being offered by the in-crowd now, and is thinking the future doesn’t look all that hot either. He’s going to go it alone, whether you like it or not.
It’s funny to think that this song easily could have escaped notice at all. Ray Davies originally intended this song to go to the Animals, and you can absolutely hear that in the writing down to the last detail; this would have been a perfect companion piece to “It’s My Life” and “We Gotta Get Out Of This Place,” both hits for the Animals in 1965. But for whatever reasons, the band didn’t take the song, and the Kinks ended up recording it. The lead vocals were given to Kinks’ lead guitarist and real-punk-about-town Dave Davies and results plopped on the B-side of the grand “Sunny Afternoon.” That A-side, of course, was a huge worldwide smash and the two songs’ antiheroes – one a burnt-out hedonist, one a defiant loner – landed on many, many little turntables of kids like me. This gave me something to think about. These guys didn’t want to hold your hand, or please please you; they were quite prepared to walk, knowing there was going to be a cost to that as well.
So that B-side that could have gone to another band ended up becoming somewhat of the Kinks’ anthem, and that of their fans. But of course that very singular middle-finger statement changes somewhat over time, and you gain something more of a perspective. No one is all that detached or strong or unique or brave, and concessions are made, deals done, souls sold in small or big ways. No one can face down the world of expectations endlessly, and the temptation to stand with rather than apart is terribly, normally, predictably human.
Now, when Ray Davies turns his microphone towards a crowd with a slight smirk and has them all sing the chorus to “I’m Not Like Everybody Else,” their voices shouting in agreement, fists pumping in the air, the message is made terribly clear: no, look, you are all the same. There is something to the gesture that is very amusing but also serves to deflate and mock his own lyrics, himself, and his fans.
I don’t sing along when Ray does that. I just watch. It gives me something to think about.
© Copyright 2008- Marianne Spellman