For a legend, Ray Davies is awfully down-to-earth and approachable. Especially when it comes to conversation.

Sure, there are the requisite reflections of his band, The Kinks, and the musical giants, some now dead, who came up with him in the 60s. But he also jokes, often and well, about the music business, cell phones and what's been missing from rock 'n' roll, since Chuck Berry invented it in the '50s.

And, since he's been doing it since 1964, the art of touring.

"It's changed quite a bit since those days," said Davies, whose polite, effete, slightly-weary voice, often disarms the listener for a good gag. "You have so much more to do now. Between locating your bags, checking texts and phone calls, answering e-mails, you're always occupied with something. It's exhausting. The good news is, with all those distractions, well, you get jet lag, but you're not even aware of it. Even better? All the electronic stuff gets so boring, that after a while you have no trouble falling asleep." 

Fans should experience no such urges when Davies takes the stage at The Wellmont Theatre on Friday. Because precious few performers have songbooks as finely-etched, colorful and varied as his.

Starting in 1964, with the gut-crunching, proto-punk of "You Really Got Me," The Kinks were, arguably, the most exciting and aggressive band of their day.

Not long after, though, their leader did something singular and unprecedented in those days of loud and topical tunes. Sure, he and his band (featuring brother Dave on lead guitar) could rock as frenetically as contemporaries, The Rolling Stones, The Yardbirds and The Beatles. But by 1966, Davies turned his eye to subjects that no one else in his peer group felt worthy of exploration.

As Lennon, Jagger and Townshend, sang about the heated issues of the day (war, student revolt, Lysergic mind-expansion), Davies took another, very different tack, writing about timeless things, little things, English things. The scrub woman who's bought a pricey hat, so she can look like a princess. The bankrupt playboy, who doesn't know what to do with himself on a sunny afternoon. There were songs about cigarettes and tea, songs about the imperiled Village Green. And a ballad about the sun setting over Waterloo Train Station, that, in recent years, seems to have become the unofficial British National Anthem. 

So beloved by other songwriters are these tunes, that earlier this year saw "See My Friends," a tribute of sorts, where 'friends' like Springsteen and Lucinda Williams covered their favorites. 

"I'm slowly starting to work on Volume II of 'Friends'," said Davies. "Ron Sexsmith has recently recorded my song, 'Misfits,' for it. The problem is, everybody wants to do the really famous ones. And there are some awfully good ones that need covering, like (1970's), 'Get Back Into Line.'"

When The Kinks and other stalwart soldiers of The British Invasion began, so many of them were influenced by '50s artists like Chuck Berry and Little Richard. It's what seemed to make these artists roll as much as rock. I mention this to Davies and wonder how he views today's bands and, despite their good writing, what might be missing from their feel.

"I blame a certain amount of it on the home studio," he said. "A lot of guys are making albums themselves without the other people around to create chemistry and a good groove. I call that home recording, 'Bed-Sit Music.' It's sort of sterile. Also, when bands do record together, they use a 'click-track.' It really keeps the music from swinging in the way that Chuck Berry records did. Lately, I've been doing some recording with (original Kinks drummer) Mick Avory. The way he swings around the track! It makes all the difference. Rock 'n' roll is, first and foremost, body music. People forget that sometimes."

Davies stresses the importance of the groove, when he mentions a family reunion he went to a few weeks before, back home in England.

"Two of my older sisters were there, as well as lots of their kids. My nephew played deejay and turned the whole thing into a disco and everybody was dancing and having a wonderful time. It hit me again, that music, rock, or urban dance music, is about the physical. It needs to be simple and to groove. You build it from the ground up and then you really have something."

Davies mentions he will be on tour with his band ("featuring Ian Gibbons who started playing with The Kinks in '79") for a few dates following his gig at The Wellmont. Then, talk turns to Swinging London, mid-60s. I ask if it's true Mitch Mitchell, who ended up playing with Jimi Hendrix, nearly joined Ray's legendary group back in the day. Dry English humor to the fore, he sets that particular record straight.

"Well, he did, nearly. This is what happened. During a gig, Mick and Dave had an awful fight, with Dave insulting Mick's drumming. At which point, Mick unscrewed a cymbal and flung it at Dave's head. Dave went down and there was blood everywhere. Mick, thinking he'd killed Dave, ran out of the theatre and went into hiding. That's when Mitch Mitchell turned up at my flat. He offered his services, asked if we needed a drummer. Mostly because he'd heard that our drummer was nowhere to be found. And that there was a warrant out for his arrest."

And while I'm laughing uncontrollably, Davies with the timing of a great English Music Hall comedian, thanks me for calling. 

"God Bless," he said.

And then he is gone.

Info: Ray Davies and band will be at The Wellmont Theatre, 5 Seymour St., Montclair, on Nov.18. Tickets are $40, $60 and $80. For more information call (973) 783-9500.