Clips of live shows, some typical band-on-the-road footage, and some interviews with band members, but not enough of any of these to form the basis of a story.
The Kinks were pretty good to a point there until Ray Davies got rich and ditched the greasy stuff and started writing songs about preserving village greens.
It’s the kind of stuff that makes your blood boil. The kind of stuff that makes you wonder how some people can remember to breath when they’re this stupid.