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I’m not one to criticise Ray Davies. God knows I’m not. I love The Kinks and have even been pretty impressed with the last couple of solo albums that he has put out. But I ask you, the opening lines from David Watts.

“I am a dull and simple lad

Cannot tell water from champagne…”

Cannot tell water from champagne? My arse. I don’t think simple covers it. It is hard to imagine anyone being any simpler than that, not able to tell the difference between water and champagne. Whether you are drinking the stuff, spraying it around after a Grand Prix or even bathing in it, it would take an extraordinary leap of faith to believe that somebody could fail to differentiate between a bottle of Moet and a bottle of Volvic.

Mind you, whilst he might be simple, I doubt he would be as dull as Ray Davies suggests. Anyone likely to fill up his hot water bottle with Bollinger, or to use Krug to clean his car is going to be pretty good entertainment value. And it’s probably just as well, as Davies points out, that he has never met the Queen. I suspect that he would be quite likely to decline the drink offered for the Royal Toast and take a swig from the Corgi’s bowl instead.

I think that if the lad aspiring to be David Watts had claimed not to be able to tell tap water from bottled water or vintage champagne from non-vintage then it would probably be a bit more believable. Although it probably wouldn’t be a very good song, which is why Ray Davies is a multi millionaire with a cupboard full of awards and I idle my days away in an office picking fault with his tunes when I should be writing stroppy letters to people instead.

Anyway, if you have read this far I expect you are wondering why I am reviewing a forty odd year old song. Surely he gets out more than that I can almost hear you saying. Well you would be surprised. However, it’s actually champagne I’m reviewing in this one, or to be precise Piper Heidsieck Vintage 1998. I had a bottle at the weekend and at forty quid a pop I thought I’d tell you all about it. This is how some wine merchant described it;

“This is an elegant vintage, classy and refined with its golden color and fine bubbles. The nose is bright with aromas of rose, apricots, and even a hint of candy: nougat and caramel. On the palate is a fresh but full Champagne, filled with notes of tobacco and leather. The finish is light, with a hint of herbal tea.”

Strangely enough, as a relatively dull and simple lad, I spotted none of those aromas. To me it tasted more like urine soaked sawdust collected from the corner of a cage containing gerbils with mange, brought home for the school holidays and then forgotten about until September because the people responsible decided they would rather play outside or watch Robinson Crusoe instead. So don’t bother with it. Just enjoy the slightly gratuitous accompanying photo.