Davy, The Monkees, and Me

Today, we lost a great entertainer, and a great human being -- Davy Jones. I find that I am much more upset than I thought I would be. While trying to figure out why I was so upset about a seemingly "no longer relevant" musician dying, I realized that The Monkees had much more significance to me than I really understood:


I don't believe that I had any proper introduction to The Monkees until about 1995 (7 years old) when we gave my Dad the newly released Rhino "Greatest Hits" album. By this time I was a massive Beatles fan, so The Monkees 60's sound was familiar and welcomed. At this point I had no idea that a television program existed. When I first heard that tape, I was blown away by all of the material, but particularly by I'm Not Your Stepping Stone, and Daydream Believer. By listening to that album it was easy to figure (incorrectly) that The Monkees were basically Mickey Dolenz and Davy Jones with some other guys helping them out. Needless to say, this album was in pretty standard rotation (along with "Born in the USA" and Rockpile's "Seconds of Pleasure") in my dad's jeep for years to come.

My next Monkee memories come from 1997 when they released a new album "Justus," the television program returned to tv, and they embarked on a tour. I had no idea that they put out a record, but I can clearly remember sitting in my grandmother's living room and listening to my cousin and mother discussing that The Monkees were playing a concert in the area. Sadly we did not go (this would have been my last chance to see my now favorite Monkee, Mike Nesmith, play with the band). Around this same time, I began watching the television program. The magnificent thing about The Monkees is that it appeals to many age groups over many years. Watching the show as a child, it did not seem dated (this turned out to be a slightly funny problem for a friend of mine). Of course watching it now seems dated, but it is so fun that it really doesn't matter. I really liked Davy because he acted and talked "funny."

The Monkees run on television did not last very long. Like many other flash in the pan revivals, The Monkees fell out of favor. I did not meet anyone my age that liked The Monkees until the next year. By this time, I had moved from NJ to Pa and did not have a lot of friends. I was lucky enough to become friends with William White, who I spend a good portion of my childhood playing guns with. William had a CD copy of the same Greatest Hits album (the cd contained more tracks). We used to sit in his basement and listen to that cd over and over again. I was getting a little older and the songs were starting to develop both a deeper meaning, and a connection to my memory. In 2000, I bought a record player and began to scour every thrift store in the area for records. During this time (mind you, this is before I could just jump online and download what I wanted) I was able to get most of the Monkee records. All of a sudden, the flood gates opened and I was hit with all of these songs that I hadn't heard since the television program was airing (Your Aunty Grizelda for instance).

In 2003, I moved back to New Jersey and enrolled in a High School where again, I didn't know anybody. My sophomore year, I met a girl whose favorite band was The Monkees. As these things go, being at the awkward age I was, I developed a crush on her and decided that the best thing I could do was to smugly tell her that The Monkees didn't play their own instruments (this is mostly not true). I guess it pissed her off, but in the long run I think it got our friendship rolling, so I can't complain. Also during my high school years, I spent hours in my basement trying to figure out how to play Daydream Believer on the piano. I figured it out, but have forgotten it by this point. Maybe I will try to relearn it.

By the time I went to college, I found myself deeply moved by the songs sung by Davy Jones. The Monkees seemed to reserve the deeper/romantic/unrequited love songs (I Wanna Be Free, Shades of Gray....) for Davy to sing. I had made some pretty big mistakes and this music was very comforting.

In 2009 I bought the complete Monkees series on dvd (first time I had watched the show in over 10 years). It was a lovely treat to see Mickey, Davy, Peter, and Mike fooling around on my television set. In 2011 I was lucky enough to see The Monkees sans Mike Nesmith perform in Atlantic City. I bought two tickets and, oddly enough, every person I asked to go either declined or didn't answer at all. I finally convinced my mom (who originally said no) to go with me. My mom (who bought the tape for my dad) is really responsible for getting me into The Monkees. She said that it is one of the best concerts she has ever been to -- I agree.

The Monkees are magical. They are the perfect blend, of talent, humor, and sincerity. Today, when watching the show I most enjoy Mike's character (also I am trying very hard to get my band to cover "Listen to the Band."). Nonetheless, Davy Jones commitment to love and happiness strikes a chord with me. I don't think that he was very much different off screen. When I saw The Monkees perform live, Davy seemed to have a very genuine smile. He sang, did a soft shoe routine, and told stories to the crowd and REALLY seemed delighted to be on stage with his friend's bringing joy to the crowd the very same way that they did in the 1960's. I am thankful for the small part that Davy and The Monkees have played in my life. I'm sure there is much more to come.