Oh, What Can It Mean? RIP Davy Jones

Davy Jones.

As others have always pointed out, he wasn’t impish, charming, “Circus Boy” Mickey Dolenz, the guy who everyone wanted to be friends with and who sang “I’m a Believer” in that unmistakable Mickey voice. He wasn’t the cool, laconic, hep, cap-wearing Michael Nesmith, the one who wrote the great “Circle Sky,” and who palled with Frank Zappa, the one who is considered an innovator of MTV (though the show itself should be seen as an innovator as well). And he wasn’t sensitive folkie Peter Tork. 

He was Davy. The one all the girls screamed for. The one Marcia Brady went ga-ga over and lived out every girl’s dream by actually going to the prom with him (“Girl. Look what you’ve done to me!”) The British one. The short one. The ex jockey, the ex Artful Dodger -- the song and dance man who wasn’t quite as hip as the rest of the fellows. And yet, in his own way, he was just as hip.

The Monkees needed Davy Jones. The show, inspired by Richard Lester and most especially A Hard Day’s Night and Help! about a group of friends/pop band (it ran from 1966-1968) was co-created by none other than Five Easy Pieces director Bob Rafelson, who quite clearly and quite cheekily, knew what he was doing. And in spite of its initial detractors -- detractors I can’t believe exist today (think of all the prefabricated boy groups – who sing terrible material and can’t even play an instrument! The Monkees could actually play and write their own songs…) it’s a piece of history that produced some of the greatest pop songs of that time: “I’m Not Your Steppin’ Stone,” “Daydream Believer,” “Valeri" (one of my favorite songs Davy sang),” “A Little Bit Me (A Little Bit You),” “Last Train to Clarksville,” “Cuddly Toy,” “Pleasant Valley Sunday,” “I’m A Believer,” “Star Collector,” "Mary, Mary” and more and more and more.

No, they were not Jimi Hendrix or the The Rolling Stones or The Beatles. No. They were for kids. Sort of. Perhaps secretly for adults. They were subversive -- and could have been a lot more had they gotten extra control. They knew what was down. But again, as a kid. You just knew how special they were -- you felt that extra something to those songs and crazy stories. When they ran on re-runs on Nickelodeon, my sister and I became almost manically obsessed with them. They provided a lot of happiness and escape from what we considered the dullsville of our time. The pop songs! The clothes! The shenanigans! Why couldn’t we turn on a radio and hear “Randy Scouse Git”? 

The older I got and the more I researched, the more I realized how much they managed to transcend mere bubblegum and turn it into something more, something mysterious  -- and how much they tried. I realized many adults did respect The Monkees, as they should have. Dig just a few of the songwriters and compositions they worked with -- Neil Diamond, Gerry Goffin and Carole King, Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart, John Stewart and the great Harry Nilsson. That genius Jack Nitzsche even provided backing music for the band.

And then there was their masterpiece (or, chaos-ter-piece) Head (directed by Rafelson and co-written by Jack Nicholson). See, back then, if you had a novelty band, and you still had to sing and play your instruments, you still had to prove yourself. And The Monkees had some balls when they made that 1968 counterculture movie -- a movie that opens with the band running (I'm thinking from girls, but who knows when it comes to this picture...your mind runs away with the band itself) through a quite serious, official ribbon cutting on a bridge only to have Mickey jump off that bridge in form of suicide/surrender (you think N Sync would have done that? Or make an anti war movie for that matter?). It’s a funny, shrewd deconstruction of Monkees mania. And it's often so gorgeous. After the plunge into a watery death/swim, complete with mermaids, one of their most hauntingly beautiful songs kicks in -- the exquisite, psychedelic  “Porpoise Song.” This is one of my favorite musical moments in all of film. How can you dismiss The Monkees after this sublime sequence and song? I have no idea what Jean-Luc Godard thinks of the picture or the TV show or the band, but I want to believe he reveres them.

As the LA Times reported from Bob Rafelson: “It's a sad day for me. Of all the films I've made that have received attention from the Academy Awards, or Cannes [Film Festival] or the New York Film Critics Awards, nothing ever pleased me more than hearing a [radio] announcer say 'Here's Davy Jones singing "Daydream Believer." ' 

But Davy wasn’t all “Daydream Believer.” He also sang, in Head, Harry Nillson’s magnificent “Daddy’s Song.” He does Nillson proud. It’s pure song and dance Davy. Joyful, nostalgic, a little insane -- perhaps without him even realizing it -- and then just downright poignant. Mickey and Mike were always my favorites, but I adore Davy. And the more I comb through his clips, I feel like I was taking him for granted. He makes me so happy. He always did. Oh, Davy. “Look what you’ve done to me!”

As Jones asks in "Daydream Believer" -- "What number is this, Chip?" Oh, the number. His last number. He was only 66. The the same year the show began. A great year for music. And a great memory for many -- and for many of different generations. Rest in Peace, Mr. Jones. You knew how happy we could be.

Comments

[robbie]

thanks . super !

[Stacia]

Simply wonderful.

I love The Monkees, and I was incredibly sad to hear about Davy. He was too young.

I always believed Davy knew he was a touch off-kilter, a little bit insane as you put it. Nowadays a prefab boy band would cultivate it into scripted wackiness, but maybe I'm just being cynical.

[Miss Lisa]

That was lovely. Thanks for taking the time to put into words what was special about Jones and the entire Monkees concept.

I wonder how many people decided to become musicians due to this show. In my generation the Rolling Stones and Beatles may have inspired most pop musicians, but The Monkees made it look like pure fun, so they had a big influence too. And yes, the songs were great. I have a tear in my eye for you, Davy Jones.

[Farmer Waltz]

'Valerie' is also my favorite. Great post.

media-waltz.com

[ken beegle]

Beautifully said. "Headquarters" was the first album I ever bought.

[katiebird]

Thank you for this. 1966 was a great year for music. And in the spring of 1967 when my family moved from San Francisco to Kansas, we sang Monkee songs all the way.

I'm sorry to see Davy go.

[wwolfe]

Thank you for the lovely, insightful post. The film clip was the perfect companion piece - "Time has passed and so have I." Too true.

[Bruce Bromley]

I'm am very happy that Roger Ebert pointed me in your direction. This is an excellent remembrance on Davy Jones. Thank You.

[Matthew]

Masterfully put, Kim.

I had the pleasure of attending a local screening of "Head" with Davy Jones attending, singing a few songs for the delighted audience along with a pretty extensive Q&A. He admitted to the crowd that he had watched the movie the previous night, and he "still didn't get it". He also stated that he wouldn't be insulted if people got up and left if they didn't like it.

Nobody left. They might have been puzzled to no end, but they couldn't get enough of the film. Or Davy. Or the memories engendered by him, the music, and the zany, madcap delight their (and Rafelson/Schneider's) show brought to the fans.

I count it a blessing that I was able to catch The Monkees on their 2011 tour. Not only was it a 2+ hour show that brought the hits and delved deep into the back catalog, but entertained with video projections featuring scenes from Head, the "33 1/3" television special, the TV show, even commercials they cut in the 60s for sponsors like Kellogs, Kodak, etc. It was magic in both sight and sound, and Davy was (as always) a masterful showman.

As saddened as I am by Davy's death, I hope that at the very least it will spur a reassessment of The Monkees, both in their music and their pop-culture impact beyond the "Pre-Fab Four" moniker.

[Jennifer Mizban]

Wonderful piece on a wonderfully talented and beautiful man. Thank you.

[Jerilyn Nighy]

This is akin to when we lost Jim Henson. This one hurts hard.

[jj doe]

Well put. Their first album came out when I was 17. I bought it for my GF. My wife said she was 13 when the show started. It was the perfect age for them, and she liked them for a long time.
I quickly grew out of their sound, and heading to San Francisco.
Who came out when I was 13? The Beatles, who I still listen to. It's not fair to compare them - they each had their moment in time. They were more popular than they deserved, and better than we thought they were.
It's good to read about Davy and his life - as an antidote to the media canonization of Whitney Houston!

[Nondisposable Johnny]

Thanks Kim...Yesterday was the first time in 30 plus years Daydream Believer couldn't put a smile on my face...that Rafelson quote just brought it back.

[Nuala Kelly]

I have lost a piece of my childhood with Davy's passing. I loved Valeri too. Thoughtful piece and very insightful.

[Nurse Kat]

I saw Mickey and Davy in person performing in the musical "Tom Sawyer" at the Music Circus in Sacramento, in 70's. (There were Monkee reruns on TV, and I had no idea that the reruns were 10 years old! I was only 9 or so) To my delight and terror, Davy Jones was in the swimming pool at my hotel when I went to swim! I was so freaked out, I couldn't go in!! And Mickey was there too!! And they ate dinner at a table next to mine that night in the hotel restaurant. I was in heaven! RIP Davy Jones...

[Pat Rigley]

Well done. You wield a mean keyboard. Anyone under sixty that mentions John Stewart (and gets the context correct) is okay in my book.

[Lina Lamont]

The intersection between the Monkees and Godard might very well be found in this film:
http://www.bampfa.berkeley.edu/film/FN17754

[Christine Oster]

Very nice tribute to a wonderful talent and decent human being! He will most certainly be missed!

<3 <3 <3

[Judy Anghelescu]

Thank you for this insightful article and including unique pictures. I attended too many Monkees concerts to count and had the pleasure of spending time with this incredibly nice, generous, and talented man. He gave everything his all and took his time doing so. Not an insincere word ever said. I will miss him in this world.

[NolaBossyMonkey]

I am very happy to have happened onto your blog (via FB) today. A well done remembrance on dear Davy.

I have never seen the movie Head, so loved your last link to "Daddy's Song". It would not have surprised me in the least to have seen this performance in the final episode of The Prisoner.

[Kanjo]

Wonderful post and a fitting tribute. Still remember the look I got from the store clerk when buying the Arista Greatest Hits package back in 1976 at the local record store.

[Sandra Durow]

Aww... I will miss Davy. I've always loved The Monkees. They got me through some tough times in the late '60s. Great video at the end that I've never have seen. "Time has passed and so have I." Very poignant. Thanks for posting.

[DougJ]

Great post.

[Jaime]

Well done, Miz Morgan. You always write like a dream, but this one may well win you a throne on Web Log Parnassus...

[Todd Restler]

Great job Kim, that's a wonderful tribute. I linked here from The Sheila Variations and am quite happy I did. Whenever I hear a Monkees song I can’t help but think of Teri Garr in After Hours, in one of my all time favorite cameos.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zixXd76t5NI