"I might even end up a rock-"n"-roll god."

This DVD could be said to have an odd mixture of highlights from the band's career, some songs of which might not appeal to those who are not 'dedicated followers' of The Kinks, so to speak. However, for someone who doesn't want to sit through the hit parade and would like to judge The Kinks based on their true nature, this DVD is an inspiring insight into their wit, agendas, their ups and their downs (taking nearly four decades into account), at the centre of which was Ray Davies, a fragile soul, who narrates from his heart in this documentary. A man who would redefine how many thought of music, whose life unquestionably had an impact on what some critics now call the best songwriting career in the history of English pop music - 'a national treasure,' the Sunday Times claimed.

A rock-"n"-roll god. Undoubtedly the godfather of heavy metal. 15th July 1973. The aspiring artist, the valiant vocalist, the deathly depressive, Raymond Douglas Davies had resorted to something his fans would never have suspected.

"Face torture and death," Ray had once advised. Face? This man had nearly self-inflicted torture and death. However, on that day, he had successfully proven to everyone how sensitive and fragile he really was. Ray Davies was not immortal; he was just an ordinary man endeavouring to supersede the likes of Chuck Berry and Little Richard. Ray was truly a rock star on the surface, but the splintered soul suppressed within, the mortal "Max", was perhaps what drove him to write such thought-provoking songs about quintessentially British society.

Ray Davies, his face stony, his eyes wide with a foreboding glare, his frame rocking indecisively, "Take them whenever you feel depressed," he recalled from the doctor"s surgery. Ray contemplated that he felt down every five minutes and, logically, would need to configure his dosage accordingly.

A glossy sheet of tears coated his dilated pupils, proceeding to snake down his rose-coloured cheeks and between the cracks in his skin. He thrust out a quivering hand towards the box, failing to grasp it as the atmosphere shifted and inverted. His fellow Kinks had been thrashing at the door for over an hour, a band of ghostly silhouettes. The cacophony of an ambulance outside juxtaposed with the satanic chortle of Max. Heartbeats. Sirens. Darkness. Death.

Death. Ray was a sophisticated man. Death was inarguably a theme he had understood, yet he had avoided it in the witty lyrics of his flamboyant songs. Then again, Ray had never composed songs about his fascinating life; he had always preferred to conceal his face behind the mask of a social study. There had indeed been many "days in the life of", including the Dedicated Follower of Fashion, Mr Reporter, the working-class man who lazed on a Sunny Afternoon and even an organisation known as The Village Green Preservation Society, dedicated to the conservation of nostalgic village greens, close-knit communities and comic-strip characters such as Desperate Dan.

A blinding light at the end of a tunnel, flashing memories of a village green before him. "I miss the village green, the church, the clock, the steeple, I miss the village green and all the simple people, I miss the morning dew, fresh air and Sunday school." His own characters had spoken to him as if with personalities of their own. Mr Flash bloodied the knife of a promising successor. Preservation was his objective. Preservation had preserved his life ... and Max was asleep at the time.

Preservation was the title of an unsuccessful dual-release Kinks album, of which Act 1 was released in 1973; Act 2, in "74 six months later. It seemed that so many Kinks LPs had failed to chart since the row of top-ten hits in the sixties. On the other hand, the charts were never vital to an established fan base, who believed their favourite band had done something revolutionary for the world of music. Ray Davies had surpassed his charming concept album idea by elevating one step further. He had ingeniously imagined the prospect of a musical soap opera with a plot and cast of characters that progressed along with the albums. Not even manic depression and a near-death experience could prevent Ray from conjuring up novel ideas. Pete Townsend of The Who, who had their fair share of hits in the sixties, said of Ray, "He is probably my favourite songwriter of all time."

Yet Ray"s fight with fame had been a hard struggle. A lot of Ray"s songs detailed of his wish to just run away from all the glory. Sitting in My Hotel, for example, features a straining voice squeezing out the lyrics, "If my friends could see me now in a chauffeur-driven jam jar, they would laugh. They would be saying that it"s not really me; they would all be asking who I"m trying to be."

Ray Davies had never hoped for a life of fame and fortune, and there had always been doubts about how he would cope in later life. "You"ve got tough hands, little David," his father had expressed about a young Dave, "you"ll be alright. But I"m worried about Ray because he"s got really soft hands."

On the 21st June 1944, little did the world know that a radical British rock star was about to be born in Muswell Hill, North London. It would only be a matter of years before his superior band christened the stage with something unique, something kinky and indescribable it had never had before.

Ray and his younger brother, Dave, were members of the massive Davies family and were the youngest of eight children, whose ages spanned almost thirty years. Additionally, six of the children were female, two of whom lived away from the family home. The two brothers spent most of their childhood apart, as Dave lived with a sister called Renée and Ray lived sometimes with another sister, Rosy, and her husband, Arthur; other days, in his family home. Consequently, Arthur provided Ray with inspiration for an album named Arthur, or the Decline and Fall of the British Empire in 1969 - a concept LP following Arthur"s emigration to Australia.

In their portentous teenage years, Ray and Dave were magnificently musical people. They would often get the adrenaline rushing through their blood vessels by playing skiffle and rock-"n"-roll. Through The Kinks" career, this adrenaline never disappeared. Ray had encouraged the fans to throw paper plates at him during concerts and was frequently balancing a pint of beer on his head when performing the song Alcohol. Wherever The Kinks went, there was a guaranteed riot among the crowds; Ray solved this by dancing on top of the piano, rendering people frozen with amusement. However, this hadn"t prevented The Kinks" ban from the United States, though the Americans had originally loved them for the harsh riff of the 1964 break into fame You Really Got Me, created by slicing the amplifier with a pen-knife.

Recognising such kinky, eccentric moments like this, it is a depressing shame that everyone has heard of great bands like The Who, The Beatles and The Rolling Stones, but The Kinks are no longer as widely known. The legacy of The Kinks, though, still survives in some hearts and they continue to achieve.

For example, in the year of 1990, Ray Davies was elected to the Rock-"n"-Roll Hall of Fame. He has since fathered a child, Natalie Rae Hynde, with Chrissie Hynde of The Pretenders, the third partner after wives Yvonne and Rasa, who had left him in 1973 with his two previous children, partly the reason that caused him to attempt suicide. He had also proceeded to write his semi-fictional autobiography X-Ray cleverly subtitled the "unauthorised autobiography". Then, he was awarded CBE at the 2003 Queen"s New Year"s Eve Honours List for his "services to music".

Only days after these events, in New Orleans" French Quarter, Ray was with his girlfriend when a thief stole her purse. Ray, attempting to recover his girlfriend"s property, was shot in the leg. While the police focused their efforts, he was in the Medical Center of Louisiana making a rapid recuperation from a near-lethal wound infection.

Afterwards, on the 22nd June 2004, Ray went on to win the Mojo Songwriter Award, beating the groundbreaking artists Nick Drake, Paul Weller, Elvis Costello and Paul McCartney in the British field of nominees. He apparently won the award because of "his ability to produce classic material consistently".

These awards were demonstrations of Ray"s song-writing brilliance, but what of his present-day personality? On a weblog, an interviewer revealed the following:

"Mr Davies proved to be a gracious, charming, soft-spoken gentleman, who escorted me backstage and pointed out where the microphone on my tape recorder was (it was upside-down, I was a little nervous) without the slightest hint of condescension. But a randy rock-"n"-roller still lurks beneath the veneer of the "well respected gentleman". When we embraced after the interview, I felt his hand firmly and affectionately take hold of my left cheek. And I"m not talking about the one on my face."

By now, I am sure that Ray has fulfilled his goal, even though he has said, "If had to do my life over, I would change every single thing I have done." I guess that it would be without his imaginary enemy, Max, who apparently halted The Kinks" world domination whenever they had success. But I don"t think Ray would be the same without Max.

Truth be told, much of The Kinks" repertoire is overlooked or underrated, but the influence and novelty he held on British music was undeniable. Yet I know The Kinks" legacy lives on with the current generation through people like me who adore them, and the unforgettable band"s spirt shall hopefully continue until the end of time. Rock on, Kinks, rock on!