Near the corner of the intersection, in front of the synagogue, the boys watched the pigeon flap around, staccato blue-grey blurs and thin, hollow slaps on the street.
Girls across the street gathered in a bunch and held each other’s hand or their own mouths while the watched. The bird stopped for second, neck twisted, chest inflated -, and one boy stepped from the curb to nudge it with his foot.
The bird convulsed again and the boy leapt back and into the arms of his comrades. The girls screeched in small chorus.
A transitional period for the Kinks. I’m not sure if the Kinks are trying to play ska or sound vaguely “Caribbean” on this song, but they only succeed in sounding a bit whoozy - still, I have great fondness for this song, so much so that I used to try to play it with one my bands. We could never get the rhythm, and now listening with fresh ears, I’m not sure Mick Avory got it either. Nice piano by Nick Hopkins.