Monday, 18 April 2016

Simon and Garfunkel "Bridge Over Troubled Water" (1970)




Simon and Garfunkel "Bridge Over Troubled Water" (1970)

Bridge Over Troubled Water/El Condor Pasa (If I Could)/Cecilia/Keep The Customer Satisfied/So Long Frank Lloyd Wright//The Boxer/Baby Driver/The Only Living Boy In New York/Why Don't You Write Me?/Bye Bye Love/Song For Asking

"Bye bye love, bye bye happiness, hello loneliness..."

It's the end...only the moment hasn't really been prepared for at all.

Ever since their third single as 'Tom and Jerry' way back in 1958, Simon and Garfunkel has been a franchise on borrowed time. It's not that the duo didn't respect or even love each other - but put two strong-willed musicians together from the age of five in the same room when their tastes natural pull in different directions was always going to end in disaster sooner or later. The one thing that brought Simon and Garfunkel back together again in the past, time after time, was success: the lure of a hit single together after years apart back in the doo-wop years and the sudden unexpected release of an overdubbed 'Sounds Of Silence'. Somehow, despite the fact that Simon and Garfunkel often found themselves tugging on different ends of the same musical note and had been trying to find a career apart from each other since they were seventeen, fate had always intervened to keep them together. That unexpected overdubbing hit with 'The Sound Of Silence', released at a time when Garfunkel had returned, disillusioned to his studies and Paul was an unknown folk singer struggling to make ends meet in London, set the pattern as a warning for much that would follow: don't split up, however much the other one annoys you, because apart musical careers are a struggle. However the huge overwhelming success of the 'Graduate' soundtrack in 1968 (while Simon and Garfunkel were a fair way through work on fourth album 'Bookends') changed the 'rules' though: while Simon and Garfunkel had ploughed on for ten years optimistically, trying to recapture the feeling when they were sixteen and just about entered the top 50 charts, suddenly they had more fame than they were comfortable with - and suddenly time apart looked like a good thing once more.

It didn't help that Paul wanted to branch out and be more political, to use their newfound fame for 'good' (his rabble-rousing 'Cuba Si Nixon No' being the only song of his Art ever refused to sing on), while Art wanted to branch out and use their newfound fame to promote obscure Medieval pieces of which he was highly fond ('Benedictus', the odd piece out in the S and G canon by several centuries, was nearly joined by a sequel 'Fueilles-O'). For a time 'Bridge' was set to include a twelfth song to even the side up, but neither partner could agree which song that ought to be - so in the end 'Bridge' became a short running 36 minute album. Personally I'd have gone with 'Cuba Si Nixon No' on the record - the single biggest row the pair had during their 1964-1970 period, but then I say that as a CSNY fan knowing that the Nixon-bashing 'Ohio' is a few months further down the line: Arty was 'right' in the sense that people would have spent so long debating that track that they'd have probably ignored the rest of the album too (and the sudden lurch back into Chuck Berry style rock and roll is as painful on tour as 'Why Don't You Write Me?'s reggae). Then again 'Feuilles-O', as included on the CD in bonus form (Arty still won't let 'Cuba' out officially...) or on 'Angel Clare' is about as boring as Simon and Garfunkel get too. Maybe this album is better off uneven, with just eleven songs. In a way though Paul got his wish: many fans (at least American fans around in 1969 ) first heard this album's songs as the soundtrack to the Simon and Garfunkel TV special 'Songs Of America' where, for instance, 'Bridge' is debuted to the shots of JFK's funeral train passing through America as people pay their last respects. Music takes a back-seat to politics on the documentary, which is as damning of Richard Nixon's first year in the White House and the continued Vietnam War as it dares on primetime TV and the existence of which stakes even more of a claim for this album summing up a 'generational shift', though actually not one song that made its way through to the end product could be called 'political' (the TV special, available on the 2011 deluxe edition of the album, is highly recommended by the way, though be warned that the 'new' DVD documentary 'The Harmony Game' and the  'Live 1969' CD disc that comes with it are a bit of a disappointment).

That 'tug of war' between these two extremes (which you can judge for yourself in the modern age now you can now see a 1969 era S and G - well S anyway - doing 'Cuba' in concert on Youtube, while Arty re-recorded 'Feuilles-o' for his first solo album 'Angel Clare') crops up time and time again across this album. Sometimes 'Bridge' is soft and expressive, traditional and conservative, with some of the most easy listening of Simon and Garfunkel tracks: there's a reason so many middle-of-the-road bands cover 'El Condor Pasa' (and it's not to promote Pauk's first great world music discovery Los Incas!) while 'Cecilia' is the most 'poppy' Simon and Garfunkel ever yet and 'Song For The Asking' the most 'obvious' folk-rock tune the pair released. On the other hand 'Baby Driver' is juvenile yet daring in a way Simon and Garfunkel had never been (Paul's teenage days as Tico and the Triumphs on the other hand...), 'Keep The Customer Satisfied' almost single-handedly invents a new genre of sarcastic asides to audiences (The Kinks will turn this into a career path a few years into the decade) and 'Why Don't You Write Me?' near-enough invents white reggae. And then there's 'The Boxer', five stunning complex minutes of everything Simon and Garfunkel have been leading up to and a peak during the first album sessions so high none of the rest of the record could quite compete with it. Compared to the focussed 'Bookends' (on side one at least), all this see-sawing from one extreme to the other is enough to give you motion sickness, while 'bridge' is simultaneously the most daring LP ever to sell a zillion copies (well, it sold over three million copies in Britain alone and I'm not adding every country's figures up, so it's something like that!) and the blandest of the five studio Simon and Garfunkel LPs.

Both Simon and Garfunkel keep changing their minds over how final a 'goodbye' Bridge Over Troubled Water was meant to be: this wasn't a band who bad-mouthed each other in the papers every few minutes so as late as the eve of their first pair of solo albums in 1972/1973 the world was still hoping for a sequel (which ultimately never came, though the two came close in 1983). However, 'Bridge' feels like an ending, with an elegiac, things-will-never-0be-the-same theme that runs through almost all of it, with the exceptions two brazen attempts to turn back the clock and return to the band's 'teenage' years ('Cecilia' and 'Baby Driver', two songs that sound like Tom and Jerry or at least Tico and the Triumphs releases). There's Paul the songwriter, holed up in his room and unsure what he can write that he actually wants Art to sing alongside him without it sounding 'false'. So he looks into himself, writing 'The Boxer' as a semi-autobiographical/semi-fictional account of what might he might have been in some parallel world where 'The Sound Of Silence' never got its overdubs and the pair never stayed together: it's a tale of loneliness and cruelty that turns even Garfunkel's technicolour voice into monochrome and depending how you interpret the song suggests that Paul is at his worst when he's confronting the world alone. Then there's a song for Arty, Paul bidding goodbye to his architect friend without letting him know and writing 'So Long Frank Lloyd Wright' about his pal's favourite architect, even though the lines about 'harmonising till dawn' rather give the real subject matter away (not that Arty knew at the time: he's said to have been highly cross when he found out - 'Oh very good, everyone's laughing because the joke's on old Arty' - but actually it's a sweet goodbye, Paul telling his partner he understands his way of thinking too). Then there's the title track, all majestic sweeping strings and an olive branch of friendship, offering a promise that two such close people will do anything for the other, no matter what happens (Paul even gives it to Arty to sing, seemingly as a comment, though even Garfunkel fell so in love with the falsetto Paul used on the highly lovely demo - see the 'Paul Simon 1964-1993' box set - he wanted his partner to sing it like that).

Ah, you might be thinking, that's real friendship that is - what's all the fuss about? But then there's side two of the album. 'Keep The Customer Satisfied', a late addition to the album, sounds to me as if it was written as a 'plan B' if Paul couldn't get his political rant on the album - a slightly drunken, leering slap in the face to everyone buying Simon and Garfunkel records simply because they were 'popular' and 'nicer' than anything else released at the time; in retrospect it's surprising Garfunkel didn't walk away from this song too (in actual fact he sings it with gusto). Then there's the two 'letter' songs also written towards the end of the record when it was half-finished and Paul just needed Arty for some completion work - only to find to his horror that his friend's shooting a film! This too takes a bit of explaining: Mike Nichols. the director of The Graduate, told Simon and Garfunkel he'd bought up the rights to Joseph Heller's novel 'Catch 22' and asked if they'd like a part when he made the film in Mexico. Both men said yes automatically but, wary that he had an album he ought to be writing, Paul asked for a cameo part while Garfunkel - with time on his hands while the pair weren't on tour and Paul was writing - took a bigger part (he's very good too). In the end 'Catch 22' was a far more difficult 'shoot' than 'The Graduate' and Nichols had several different 'goes' at telling the story; somewhere down the line Paul heard in the mail both that his cameo role had been cut thanks to a changed ending and that the film was over-running so Arty might not be available for months yet. Paul, with a studio booked and waiting to go, was furious that his partner stuck with the film instead of the album while Arty, for his part, felt the matter was out of his hands and that if anything putting his face out there in a big budget film would help the album's profile (and might save them endless media interviews, something they both disliked doing). Though many people assume that Paul made all the albums on his own and then got Arty in for a couple of days to sing, it really wasn't like that - or at least never had been before. Part of the reason Simon and Garfunkel experienced so much tension was the long time they spent together making records, using the other as 'producer' while they recorded their parts, while Paul - an instinctive writer who sometimes struggled to sift through his best material - had traditionally been eager for his partner's suggestions (one of which was to add an extra verse to the title track, which turned from gentle ballad on Paul's demo into soaring epic in Arty's). Only half of 'Bridge' the record is a team effort and Simon and Garfunkel had never done anything before except as a team.

Both 'Why Don't You Write Me?' and 'The Only Living Boy In New York' represents Paul getting first impatient and then wistful over the fact that his boyhood pal has 'let him down' - the first one urging him to get in touch because 'it's lovely to hear you'; the second bidding one last fond farewell that's both touching and irredeemably final, addressing his old 'Tom and Jerry' partner by his old name 'Tom' and telling him that, despite his annoyance, Paul knows 'your part will go fine'. It's worth noting here, by the way, the 'importance' of both songs being written as letters: this was how Simon and Garfunkel communicated with each other all the time in the early days, when Art was a student and Paul was either making his own music or touring London. So far we only have one of these letters in the public domain (how great would it be to have a whole collection? Though knowing Simon and Garfunkel they tore each other's up, set fire to them - and then cellotaped them back together again!) but it comes at a rather revealing point in their creation: as Art Garfunkel's sleevenotes for their first LP 'Wednesday Morning 3AM', sharing Paul's admiration for his new partner's songs while coming complete with an easy familiarity top and bottom, with asides about album mixes ('I promised be down to mastering next week to fight for a harmonica on 'He Was My Brother' - making albums is a lot of fun!') and jokes ('No singing in the streets!' Arty tells his friend after opening up about his hopes for the record). It's as if Paul is trying to remember better days when he waited eagerly for those letters and how the two were always in communication no matter how far apart geographically they were. The cover of the pair's beloved Everly Brothers song 'Bye Bye Love', revived last minute from concert tapes of the band on the road across 1969, also points towards happier memories.

No wonder, then, that 'Bridge's overwhelming quality is it's wistful nostalgia for times past. It seems like the ending of something more than just a friendship too: released a mere three months after The Beatles' similar farewell-sort-of album 'Let It Be' (a 'by the way' story: Lennon was convinced that McCartney had written the title track to sound like 'Bridge' which was everywhere when the album came out, apparently forgetting that he himself had worked on the song several months before 'bridge' was released! They do have a similar sweeping grandiose 'feel' and feature the piano heavily, but there are no major similarities between the two). Released only mere weeks into a new decade, it just has that feeling of finality common to albums recorded in the middle ground between 'Woodstock' and 'Altamont'. There's a case to be made that, though not exactly hippies, Simon and Garfunkel summed up the 1960s spirit as well as anybody: theirs is a quiet intellectual revolution, less scary than the greasy rockers of the 1950s but a revolution nonetheless based on argument rather than anger, hope rather than horror and philosophy rather than filibustering: the 1968 track 'America' is perhaps the best example of it (there's also a telling moment in one of the last gigs the duo played while touring this album in Holland in 1969 where Paul complains that the gig's caretaker wouldn't let him get the sound right and shooed him out claiming 'his type' was just going to play noise anyway. 'Well' starts Paul with an argument straight out the mouths of 'The Who' : 'One day our generation will be old enough to not have to deal with people like him, while old people like him won't be around anymore anyway!') 'Bridge' is such a heavy seller, not just because of the title tracks' success and that of 'The Graduate', but because it does what all monster sellers do: it sums up its period of time so well it meant something to everyone who heard it at the time. 'Bridge' may be a song about always being there for someone, but it sounds fleeting somehow, almost desperate, as Garfunkel tries to soar higher and higher to prove his worth. A love, hard fought for, sums up 1970 well. 'The Boxer' acknowledges the storm-clouds gathering on the horizon (the difference between 'Crosby Stills and Nash' and 'Deja Vu' or 'Abbey Road' and 'Let It Be' if you like), while mirroring the 1960s instinct of never giving in or taking no for an answer. Later singles 'Cecilia' and 'Baby Driver' sum up the era's unique mixture of innocence and yet knowingness rather well too: you could have heard either song, at a stretch, on the radio a decade earlier but there's a 'wink' in the lyric and performance that suggest this is 'sex' rather than 'love' (the 1960s didn't invent sex, of course, but they were about the first decade to talk about it - and in the popular mainstream, like Simon and Garfunkel records, not just the cult figures of the day). Even 'Frank Lloyd Wright' spends half the song bidding both Simon and Garfunkel us 'so long', as if something very major is over and it's simultaneous praising of a long-dead Victorian architect and music ('I can't believe your song is gone so soon') is so 'Sgt Peppers' it practically comes in one of 'those' colourful suits while holding a tuba.

Like many albums so much of their day, though (including 'Sgt Peppers', plus Neil Young's 'Harvest', Oasis' 'Morning Glory' and The Who's Tommy' to name just the obvious AAA ones) 'Bridge' has never quite had the same resonance to future generations raiding their parents' record collections. 'Bridge' is obviously weaker than the two albums that came before it, lacking the obviously cohesion of 'Bookends' and the less obvious 'opposites' theme of 'Parsley Sage', while it contains more duff songs than those or earlier records 'Wednesday Morning 3 AM' and 'Sounds Of Silence' ('Baby Driver' is a terribly unfunny one-note joke, 'Why Don't You Write Me?' an ok song given a terrible uncommitted performance - Paul will spend most of his 'Rhymin' Simon' record in 1973 using 'real' Muscle Shoal musicians to say 'sorry' - and 'Song For The Asking' is a terrible anticlimax for such an important 'last message' song. Add these together with a badly recorded cover of 'Bye Bye Love' and it's clear that this 11 track album is badly down on minutes to be a true 'classic'). It may in fact be the weakest of all five Simon and Garfunkel studio albums, despite selling more copies single-handedly than all the others put together.

And yet like those examples above it's not so flimsy or so totally rooted to its time-zone that it can't offer fans a little something even now. It's easy to miss now we've heard similar songs done a million times over but three songs here break new ground: no one was recording reggae back in 1970 and yet that's what Paul (however unsuccessfully the first time) tries here. No one was doing world music either, with 'El Condor Pasa' setting the tone not only for his later solo career but many other careers to come (and everyone who thinks world music only started with 'Graceland' haven't heard enough Paul Simon solo records). And still, to this day, nobody's quite put together a song like 'Keep The Customer Satisfied', a noisy un-tuneful song with great blaring horns drowning out a sarcastic lyric about how things have to be commercial to sell these days (oddly, though never a single, the song has become one of the album's most heard tracks in the modern day, mainly played by edgy DJs who want to make a comment without being thrown off the air! As 'quiet revolutionaries' Simon and Garfunkel are perfect for such a stance, which might be why they were played so often to so many different audiences, hiding their subversion just enough to be mainstream without losing their 'cool'!) Then there's 'The Boxer'. Five minutes of some of the deepest, densest, brilliant songwriting ever put together, delivered note-perfectly during a painstakingly long recording process that was worth going the extra mile. Why this song got so sharply outsold by 'Bridge Over Troubled Water' (which is also lovely and exquisitely performed, but clearly not in the same league as a song) at a time when Simon and Garfunkel could have recorded an album of knock-knock jokes and still had a big seller is beyond me. Plus this album's oft-overlooked song, 'The Only Living Boy In New York', which thematically should be the last track here: a sad and moving tribute song written to the narrator's oldest friend, touching on over a decade's worth of highs and lows, now desperately lonely and bored, while desperate to put things right but fearing that they might never be. These two songs may well be the best things Simon and Garfunkel ever recorded, together or apart and these alone give the album a middling rating, bumped up a little by the sheer perfection of Garfunkel's stunning vocal performances on both 'Bridge' and 'Lloyd Wright', plus Paul's on 'New York' and the last great joint Simon and Garfunkel vocal on 'The Boxer', where every nuance is synchronised, every last note in it's perfect place. You can learn a lot about how to make a record by listening to this album, which has long been a favourite with engineers (take another bow Roy Halee!) - assuming you skip the last three songs on the record anyway - it's the songs, oddly enough, that don't always impress. A number one record? Deservedly! UK number one for 33 weeks and the best-selling album of both the years 1970 and 1971 when 'Parsley Sage' only peaked at #13 for a week? Don't be silly! If the album needed anything, it was a longer break in the middle so Paul could elbow the weaker songs and write a couple more definitive ones that wouldn't break the duo up or leave them resorting to covering centuries-old Madrigals. If only Arty, had, you know, disappeared to go shoot a film or something!...

If ever a song existed to show off a singer's range it's 'Bridge Over Troubled Water'. Starting slow and humble, much like Paul's rather sweet gospelly demo (the highlight of the 'Paul Simon 1964-1993' box and heavily inspired by one of his favourite doo-wop records from 1958, The Swan Silvertones' 'Mary Don't You Weep' - Paul later gave composer Claude Jeter a cheque out of guilt, but as so often happens in these things it's a single line at most that's cribbed, not a whole song), it takes a long time to get moving until something changes around the three minute mark. The first quiet verse is clearly the sound of one partner to another, promising to put things right as best the narrator can - the sort of thing heard in lots of previous songs if never quite this goose-pimplingly sincere. Paul, urged to write a third verse by Arty much later to offer this chorus-less song a 'pay-off', was clearly in a quite different frame of mind when he wrote the last verse though. This is suddenly a generational song, the duo who've kept America and half the planet safe and sane across the past decade offering a knowing last goodbye, urging a 'silver girl' to 'shine' now 'all your dreams are on their way' (I've never quite bought an 'underground' interpretation, common at the time of release, that the 'silver girl' was a drug addict having a heroin rush; Paul's starting point was said to be his new girlfriend Peggy getting self-conscious about her first grey-hairs though the song is clearly deeper than it's starting point). Though Paul later admitted to not actually liking this verse, which he felt was rushed and failed to fit the rest of the song, it's actually one of the best things he ever wrote, uplifting and exactly what a shaken world needed to hear in the first few months of a new decade following troubles (there's a reason our first introduction to this song is the soundtrack to a funeral train: though the song starts as the purest love song Simon and Garfunkel ever recorded, by the end it's an anthem for better times for everybody).

Arty, of course, is perfect for the song: for many albums now Paul has been 'exploiting' his partner's 'acting' abilities and the way he can make any emotion sound sincere if he 'believes' it enough (see 'For Emily Wherever I May Find Her' especially). His performance is breath-taking, turning from simple to epic in a heartbeat and yet making every change totally note-perfect. Few singers could have managed such a feat and in many ways 'Bridge' sounds like the best 'goodbye present' Garfunkel could ever have had, Paul enjoying the knowledge that this might be the last chance he gets to write to his partner's strengths for some time so he might as well use them (something he admitted later to partly regretting: this is the only Simon and Garfunkel song that gives him nothing to do till the halfway point when the harmonies come in and when things were tough on that ;last 1969 tour he added later how bitterly he felt that Arty got all the applause and not him, it's chief creator; funnily enough Arty turned this song, written so much to his strengths, down on first hearing as he liked Paul's falsetto demo so much). Then again, this is a collaboration perhaps more than any other Simon and Garfunkel song since 'Scarborough Fair', with a good song made highly memorable through the suggestions of others. Interestingly, it was the softer first verse that Arty found the most difficult: having nailed the wailing at the end in near-enough one take, he spent days trying to get the mellow vibe of the first verse just right, eventually retreating to a nearby church in his lunchbreak to 'tap into' the right source (fitting really, given Paul's original Gospel inspiration for the track, almost all of which has been removed for the final version). Together with Larry Knechtel's impressive arrangement of Paul's originally rather sketchy melody (and for which the pianist arguably deserved a co-credit) everything about 'Bridge' sounds tailor-made to draw an audience in gradually, hitting them with different hooks and sudden changes across what's actually quite a lengthy (4:55) song for such an ever-popular single with near-constant radio airplay. Few albums start with quite such a bang as this one and released at a time when the world nearly a song like this it was all but guaranteed to do well. However there remains something ever so slightly 'pre-ordained' and calculating about this song that prevents from entering the true top-rank of Simon and Garfunkel classics like 'The Boxer' 'America' and even 'He Was My Brother' and 'Patterns', lesser known though those songs might be.

If 'Bridge' was a fond farewell, then 'El Condor Pasa' points to something 'new'. The first real attempt by Paul to break out of the straightjacket of western pop, it was inspired (some would say nicked) by Daniel Alomia Robles' Peruvian orchestral work more commonly titled 'Zarzuela El Condor Pasa' (zarzuela meaning 'musical play') based around the oldest folk tunes of the country: the bit Paul liked the most was the 'parade tune' and he met up back stage with performers Los Incas to ask if he could get into contact with the writer to arrange a cover version one day; they rather shamefacedly told him that whoever 'really' wrote the tune was probably centuries dead and his name un-recorded. Un-deterred, Los Incas' manager and 'arranger' Jorge Milchberg got wind of what Paul was up to an offered to 'arrange' it for him - altering two notes (possibly the opening two) in order to legally 'prove' he had earned the copyright. Paul, aware of all these sorts of copyright games from his years spent working with the Brill songwriting teams, probably knew what was going on but allowed him to get away with it to keep the song, though he got into trouble anyway when Robles' son filed a copyright suit arguing his father had copyrighted the melody first back in 1933; despite the case, which was settled out of court, the two became firm friends over their shared fondness for promoting world music).  You can see why the track would have appealed so much to Paul: it's a very Simon and Garfunkel mixture of the sad and the happy all in one, with an upbeat near-dancing tempo performed on instruments that sound as if they're bearing down all the weight of the world, begun with some ear-catching strumming that's also an S and G trademark. Though the pair effectively 'steal' the Los Incas recording of this track, without adding a note except their harmonies, it's arguably a good move and provides the pair a whole new range of dynamics to play with that must have sounded overhwlemingly new and exotic back in 1970. What doesn't fit quite so well are the new lyrics that Paul wrote around a translation of the original name ('If I Could'), which comes across as rather too simple and nursery-rhyme-ish for a track that has such a depth of backing. Simon and Garfunkel trade vocals for once, rather than singing together or separately, but neither sound entirely comfortable rhyming words like 'snail' and 'nail' and 'street' and 'feet'. Curiously, Simon hands by far the song's better lyric - the second verse (this is a second straight song in a row without anything you'd count as a 'chorus') - to his partner who tells us that 'a man tied to the ground gives the world it's saddest sound'. A song about freedom, in all its shapes and forms, it's a shame that the strained atmosphere of the vocal sessions shows itself so much in the recording, with one of the worst recorded vocals of the pair's years together. Released as the last ever Simon and Garfunkel single (barring 'My Little Town' and some unsanctioned post Bridge cash-ins like 'America' and 'For Emily'), it sadly sums up the differences that were splitting the duo up rather than the similarities that had kept them together for so long.

'Cecilia' too is all about performance rather than song, though Paul has since admitted that it's starting point was something a lot deeper than the 'wronged teenage lover' of the finished lyric. The track started not as a lyric anyway but as a 'rhythm', another change in writing style that will later lead to an entire album written this way (Paul's sublime 1990 solo 'Rhythm Of The Saints'), as the phrase 'I'm down on my knees begging you please' came to Paul at a party and he urged everyone else around him to bang along. Paul was quickly joined by his fellow party guests including his younger brother (and near-double) Eddie (who strums the guitar while Paul bangs a piano bench) and Arty, who fished out a tape recorder to make sure he captured the sound for posterity. The trio then later played around with the tape machine's 'reverb' button, creating a criss-crossing stream of gloriously exciting noise, as rhythms come shooting left and right across the entire song. Coming up with the name 'Cecilia' to fit the rhythm (btw a very pretty name - as I'm sure any Cecilias reading this will agree 8>) ) scholarly Paul got stuck for a while with a music-related postmodern lyric regarding St Cecilia, patron saint of music in the Catholic world, before deciding to keep the lyric as simple as the rhythm that had inspired it (Paul will return to this thought years later when starting work on the 'Rhythm Of The Saints' record where the only Saint mentioned is 'St Cecilia' on 'The Coast'). The lyric we get is undeniably silly (what teenagers 'get up to wash their face?' in the middle of 'making love up in my bedroom?!') perhaps because Paul has painted himself into a corner with how short the natural melody put to his rhythms has to be ('der der der dum, der der der dum' is hardly enough space to offer us poetry, even when you're a poet as inspired as Paul Simon!) In the end though the lyric hardly matters: this is a song written as light relief between the 'heavy' stuff and seems to have been written more to be fun to sing than anything (lots of hard consonants like Bs and Ds and long held 'ee's) and Simon and Garfunkel sound like they're having a ball, enjoying this return to the simpler days of their youth on perhaps their last fully unified track alongside 'The Boxer'. A word of praise too for poor engineer Roy Halee, who must have been devastated when his favourite 'pupils' handed him a messy, largely unlistenable collection of random echoey noises and asked him to put it in the middle of the immaculate-sounding album he was currently making. Somehow, though, 'Cecilia' still sounds like it 'belongs' on this album, despite changing the mood greatly after two ballads, with Roy awarded with his picture on the cover when this track was released as the third single from this album and the penultimate one the duo would release from their 'first career' together. Infectious, like a bad rash, yet impossible to dislike.

I'm less sure about 'Keep The Customer Satisfied', a last minute recording that's even more of an experiment. Paul the writer sounds weary on this one, having just returned home from a backbreaking tour whilst knowing he has more songs to write for an album and he feels deeply uninspired. In a way it's a neat full-circle to 'Homeward Bound' (written by Paul alone in, erm, Widnes of all places on the very eve of the band's big success with 'Sound Of Silence'), with the narrator pleased to get home but longing for some of the anonymity he once enjoyed. Paul has occasionally written sour lyrics (the 'Still Crazy After All These Years' album in 1975 is full of them), but this must be his grouchiest: 'Everywhere I go I get slandered, libelled, hear words I never heard in the Bible - and I'm oh so tired!') The problem is that Simon and Garfunkel are in effect blaming 'us' for their troubles, the customers for whom less than their peak isn't good enough and where even the peaks lead to the public clamouring for more - and I don't know about you but being blamed by songwriters from afar always makes me uncomfortable. I'd rather Paul and Arty be happy, even if that means a year off between recordings - their run of form up till 1970 is satisfying enough as it is. In a way 'Customer' is a microcosm of the album: the lyrics are awful, by Paul's high standards, but the melody is rather good and you wish the pair had spent more time developing the track so that what it was saying was as good and powerful as the way that it sounds. The blaring horn parts, which gradually get more and more shrill and out of control, are also very strong while Simon and Garfunkel do the best they can considering that, actually, they're shouting at us without any of their usual finesse and textures. As a one-off exploring Paul's fractured psyche it's ok, but it's no match for previous in-depth discussions a la 'Patterns' or even the jokes a la 'At The Zoo' and I'm confused why it's this track that's traditionally been so popular from the album considering its non-single status. Maybe it's because this song was heard first as the flipside to 'Bridge', which given this track's rant about using every trick in the book to keep listeners listening seems rather apt.

'So Long Frank Lloyd Wright' is one of those occasional songs that only 'works' if you have enough emotional investment in the people creating it to understand why it's here. Heard on its own, separated from the 'story' of Simon and Garfunkel, it's another bland song about an architect we never really get to know through the lyrics written mainly on one note (until the middle eight adds a couple more) and played to such a dreary tempo and over such a schmaltzy orchestral backing track that, heard on the album back to back with 'The Boxer', you begin to wonder where the duo's usual good taste has gone. However, in context as a second 'goodbye' song from Paul to Arty, it makes more sense. Paul wants to write about his friend without resorting to using his name in song or making it too obvious, so he does the next best thing and writes to Arty using the nom de plume of one of his biggest heroes, the 'inventor' of modern architecture Lloyd Wright, who spent his career designing the template for most modern office buildings, making sculptures and incorporating stained glass into existing buildings. However more than a few architecture fans have been left scratching their heads over this song as, bar the name, there's no mention of architecture here (Paul admitted later that, despite Arty mentioning his name a lot over the years, he didn't really know who Lloyd Wright was or do any research for the song). The elephant in the Lloyd Wright-designed room is the lyrics about the music. 'I can't believe your song is gone so soon - I barely learned the tune' sighs Arty (effectively singing about himself) before, more warmly, reminding us of the duo's good years: 'All the nights we'd harmonise till dawn - I'd never laughed so long'. This sequel to the better known 'Old Friends' is far superior, a genuine song of warmth about two old friends who genuinely care for each other, with Paul sounding heartfelt as he offers up the best tribute he can to his partner: that he's still an inspiration, even apart ('When I run dry I stop a while and think of you'). However you can tell that relations between the two were also quite difficult during the making of this album: unbeknown to Garfunkel, away filming 'Catch 22', Paul and Roy Halee added a sarcastic 'So long already Arty!...' as the singer goes on perhaps a fraction too long over this song's exceptionally long fade (if you turn up loud you can just about hear the track come to an uncomfortable clunk on a sudden last note that seems to take the flute player by surprise suggesting we weren't originally meant to hear this much of it). If you ask Garfunkel then he considers this track a mean trick, with Paul telling him to his face that the song was about his favourite architect and never hinting at what he was really getting at: that final insult over the fade may have coloured Garfunkel's judgement a bit too much though. This is actually a very affectionate song, written by one old friend to another who can't bring himself to tell him in person quite how much he really means to him and how much he's going to miss him. Seen in that light, 'Lloyd Wright' is a more than worthy 'end' to a relationship that's been explored out in song for years now; without it it's just a boring slog where not much ever seems to happen.

'The Boxer' on the other hand has enough going on within it for full albums, never mind five minute singles, and can be read on more levels than any Lloyd Wright-designed building. On the one hand it's a tale of the underdog battling for his rights, an innocent whose taken advantage so often he learns to be as corrupt as the world itself and swapping his heart of purity for a boxer's glove (the 'La La Lies' of the chorus, though Paul has admitted since that this was a lyric that was only meant to remain in place as a 'filler' until he thought of something better, which he never did). On another it's part autobiography, Paul both reminding himself of days pre-'Sounds Of Silence' when he was an unknown relying on the 'comfort of strangers', swapping comforts for 'a pocketful of mumbles' that represent his early songs and 'running scared' from a world he couldn't face (the yearning of 'home' mentioned as 'New York City', suggests its genesis comes from the same time as Widnes-centred 'Homeward Bound'), while fighting off similar blows in the present day (Paul has often said he was inspired to write this song by 'the attacks of critics', which seems odd timing: till now only 'The Dangling Conversation' has come close to being poorly received and in 1970 Simon and Garfunkel are so much America's darlings that it seems more a case, for an honest and integral writer like Simon, to work out whether what he's really doing has worth or not in a world suddenly full of sycophants). On another, it's the story of Simon and Garfunkel re-told on this album yet again, Paul reminding his partner of their struggling beginnings, leaving 'home and family' and how many times one or other has before now yelled 'I am leaving, I am leaving' while still remaining to fight (there's an extra verse, performed in concert in most eras and starting as early as 1969, that adds an extra verse: 'The years arolling by me and they are rockin' evenly, I'm older than I once was but younger than I'll be, that's not unusual, no it isn't strange, but through changes upon changes we are more or less the same' - and if that isn't a lyric directed at an old friend whose shared difficult times I don't know what is). In the context of Simon and Garfunkel's lyrics, 'The Boxer' feels like a reminder of how far the pair have come - and how much they risk letting slip away from them. The genius of the lyric though (and this is surely one of Paul's career best) is that it's just ambiguous to mean something to everyone whose ever felt downtrodden, ignored, betrayed, overlooked or abandoned and yet still fights through it, bloodied but unbowed, to fight another day. Weirdly, some reviewers still insist on saying that Paul was thinking of Dylan when he wrote this song, though boxing opponents isn't exactly Bob's style (la la hide' would have been more apt! The myth seems to have started when Dylan covered the song for his 'Self Portrait' album in 1970, when Simon and Garfunkel's original was hot off the press).

The lyric could be brutal or depressing, but ultimately it's neither. Paul's muted folky melody is again superbly supported by a sterling arrangement that, like 'Bridge', allows the song to build by such little baby steps that by the time it becomes the biggest, noisiest, sound of the album (via an extended 'lie la lie' break at the end that carries on far past the point where it's comfortable) the story sounds a triumph of sheer persistence. The man who starts out a nobody, so small and unworthy, has become as loud as an orchestra after forcing one small step after the other. The punches of life are also magnificently portrayed by regular session drummer Hal Blaine, smashing his drums for all he's worth in a sequence recorded, with great difficulty, in the Columbia recording studio lift, to get just the right amount of echo (there's a terrific story that the Columbia executive decided to choose that day to pay Simon and Garfunkel a visit and stepped over the 'recording - keep out' signs to get to the lift, opening the doors right on cue for Blaine's first 'whallop' played at full volume!) The second verse adds a bass harmonica, an old Beach Boys trick that adds an unusual gloom-laden texture to the music. The string section, too, is pure gold and proves wrong once and for all the theory that you can't have rock and roll with an orchestra, adding a layer of oppression and claustrophobia to The Boxer's many textures. Better yet is the poignant instrumental played on a pedal steel (very much in vogue in 1969-1970 with AAA bands it seems), whose mournful, wounded howl of pain and simple notes set against a vast Cathedral of noise tells us even more about the Boxer's story than the lyrics. And talking of Cathedrals, Simon and Garfunkel wanted a special sound for their vocals on this track so, at great expense, recorded their voices over several days at St Paul's Chapel in New York, ever since a haven for Simon and Garfunkel fans. Though the lyric has no mention of religion and the narrator's antics are hardly pious (what must the passing vicars have thought hearing Simon and Garfunkel use the word 'whores', a line Paul jokingly changes to 'toy-stores' if he's playing the song with children present), the theme of redemption running through the song makes it an apt choice. The hard work was worth it: Simon and Garfunkel have never sounded so close or more like one person, doubling each other superbly. Even the end of the song is perfect, the song coming not to a full-stop but a slight resting point having wobbled awkwardly aware from the peak 'glare' of attention of the song: a neat mirror of how both Simon and Garfunkel re-built their solo careers separately after this. 'The Boxer' remains one of the greatest singles ever made and is as close to perfection in melody/lyrics/performance/producton as its possible to get without a false step anywhere. This is so clearly the pinnacle of Simon and Garfunkel's career (give or take 'The Sound Of Silence') that you wonder how on earth the single peaked at only a disappointing #7 in the US, several places lower than it's predecessor, the flimsy 'Mrs Robinson'.

By contrast 'Baby Driver' doesn't belong in the same universe as 'The Boxer'. A silly tongue-in-cheek song delivered by Paul alone, it sounds like him remembering what he did the last time he broke up with Arty (the answer: he recorded a bunch of crazy silly teenage songs about motorcycles as Tico and the Triumphs). Like 'Late In The Evening' to come, Paul recalls being born to a world of music 'playing in my ears' but that song's sense of gang culture from later bandmates is shared here instead with a biker girlfriend. Though Paul's never admitted what exactly he was thinking of when he wrote the song, it seems likely from the way he sings this song that he had Dylan in mind (how fun would it have been if Bob had recorded this instead of 'The Boxer'?) and the lines recalling what his mum and dad were up to sounds like a Dylan lyric. By the last verse Paul's narrator is all for escaping parental control anyway, telling his cute and innocent girlfriend 'I'm not talking about your pigtails - I'm talking about your sex appeal!') and comparing his sex life to revving a bike, delivering the worst-innuendo-before-The-Spice Girls on the line 'I wonder how your engines feel!' This is so un-Simon and Garfunkel like you wonder how on earth this song made it through to the record: if I'd been Arty I'd have been pleading for Paul to include 'Cuba Si, Nixon No' over this rubbish. Still, as so often happens on this record, a pretty awful by S and G standards song is rescued by a clever backing track that's genuinely exciting, with some excellent Beach Boys vocal pastiches and a complex backing that even a Pet Sounds-era Brian Wilson would have baulked at. In short, this sounds like the sort of thing Tico and the Triumphs were trying to pull off ten years earlier but with a proper budget this time, complete with sound effects that sound awfully like the ones previously used on Paul's former band's 'Motorcycle'.

Thankfully Paul's other solo track is rather better. 'The Only Living Boy In New York' is another heartfelt goodbye to Arty, with Paul writing to his old friend 'Tom' (Arty's half of 'Tom and Jerry') about everything he's missing. Not much seems to be the answer: Paul is bored and lonely, lost and small in the middle of the vast New York City and not enjoying his first taste of solitude away from his partner. For now Paul is feeling affectionate, realising just how much he misses his friend, while supporting him in his role in 'Catch 22' that 'your part will go fine' and hoping he catches his plane 'on time' as he 'flies to Mexico'. However Paul clearly has more in mind than simply Arty landing in time to make the film set as he wistfully reflects that his friend 'has been learning to fly now' and has already stretched his wings, while a lonely Paul has to learn to do the same. In keeping with this album's clever use of textures, Arty overdubbed a vocal late on in the album sessions (perhaps the last time the pair ever sang together, though the pair returned to so many songs in these sessions all the dates we have are vague) shouting 'Here I am!' with all his might as if trying to be heard, but buried far away in the distance (Dylan, eager to see what the pair thought of his 'Boxer' arrangement, paid his only visit to the pair while they were recording this sequence and he was said to be most taken aback with how loudly and un-tunefully they were singing!) Given that this is a song about distances, emotional and geographical, it's the oh so clever icing on the cake of one of Paul's most overlooked songs, joined in his misery only by his own lazy acoustic strumming, an excellent blues-based bass part and a sea of voices floating round his head that he just can't quite hear. Exquisite and if anyone needed proof of just how close Simon and Garfunkel were at one point in time, they only need to listen to this song.

Alas, from this point on, the album goes downhill fast. 'Why Don't You Write Me?' sounds like a later composition, with Paul again putting pen to paper to write his friend a letter, this time full of recriminations and huffiness. Paul sloppily re-writes the track as a love song from an explorer lost in a jungle waiting to hear from his beloved and tries to turn it into a comedy, but he can't disguise the very real bitterness at the heart of this song. The middle eight 'tell me why!' gets sung in three-part overdubbed harmony as a doo-wop style round, seemingly deliberately written in the style Simon and Garfunkel most often used in their early days, though the rest of the track is a poor man's idea of reggae as taught to a band who have patently never heard of it. Paul may have had the 'jungle' setting in mind, but 'Write Me' is so obviously not that sort of a song you wonder why he got so stuck on it: this should have been played like one of those doo-wop novelty records (hence the daft deep vocals across the track). Oddly enough Garfunkel sounds a lot more comfortable on this track than Simon does, sticking with a single-note 'nagging' harmony vocal that puts you more in mind of The Marvelletes' 'Please Mr Postman'. However even he is outshone by a most unexpected instrumental performed by multiple parping saxophones who sound not unlike gorillas. Maybe that's why the narrator never got a reply? The gorilla ate his letter!

Even more peculiar is the cover of 'Bye Bye Love'. By which I don't mean the song choice - if anything Simon and Garfunkel covering their biggest influence The Everly Brothers' biggest hit on their 'farewell' record is such an obvious move you wish they hadn't done it. Instead it's the version they used: aware that their final tour was being taped for a possible live album (which won't come out until as late as 2008 with Columbia showing impressive patience compared other AAA labels who couldn't wait to cash-in on a group that had just broken up) they wondered what might happen if they got their audience to play like the ultimate backing track. Demanding a second go after the audience starting clapping out of time, they eventually drilled their audience sufficiently to get them to perform a beat-perfect track for them. Unfortunately, though, Simon and Garfunkel themselves sound bored, as if they're wishing they'd stuck with the first take, and Paul especially has never sounded quite so disinterested in a performance. Unfortunately too some joker decides to squeal along (at 1:57) by what sounds on audio without pictures as if he's just strangled his cat after force-feeding him a French Horn; the audience naturally laughs (though Simon and Garfunkel carry on straight-faced) but it's really not in keeping with the vine they're trying to come up with. A rare Roy Halee experiment that went 'wrong' can be heard at the end when the engineer tried to loop in the earlier take as an 'echo' effect - but all that does is muddy up the end of the song and make it confusing for anyone trying to keep up. A bad idea - which is unusual for Simon and Garfunkel whose bad ideas don't generally get this far through production.

A cross-fade into 'Song For The Asking', a third solo Paul Simon song (compared to Arty's two) also seems like an anti-climax. A minute long folk-rock fragment, accompanied by an overly po-faced orchestra, it's the sort of thing people who don't know assume every Simon and Garfunkel recording sounds like: rather square, slightly dull and far too much like everyone else around at the times (we know better though don't we readers? Few acts were as continually inventive and musically curious as Simon and Garfunkel). It sounds to me as if Paul was looking to write a 'finale' fragment that would equal The Beatles' 'The End' from 'Abbey Road' (released four months prior to this album) and would be equally poignant yet short. Instead Paul tells us that this is his latest tune, whether we like it or not, one he's been waiting to play 'all my life', which could in fact be a neat pointer to the knowledge that after four major splits already in their career up to this point Simon and Garfunkel were never going to be long for this world as an active partnership. However if that's the intention then Paul seems a little, well, coy, here telling 'us' that if we want him to sing again we'll have to ask him nicely. Of course I would have asked him exactly that had I been there at the time, but it's not really up to the audience to keep massaging an artist's ego like this. It's also always seemed odd to me that the track Simon and Garfunkel knew was going to be their last ever one released to the public for the for-seeable future features just Paul and very few of the trademarks (harmonies, thoughtful lyrics, dense elaborate production, 'that' guitar sound which Paul avoids here in favour of a far more 'generic' stylised sound) we associate with the duo are here. You can start a solo album too early sometimes you know!


Overall, then, 'Bridge' is not the classic album everyone said it was at the time, even though a handful of the songs on it are indeed classics and I can nevertheless see many reasons why this album was greeted with such delight on release. Sad but still with some hope, angry but forgiving, usually epic but with memories of simpler happier times 'Bridge's sense of nostalgia and loss coupled with a few glances to the future make it the perfect mixture for record-buyers in 1970 coming to terms not just with the end of the decade and Simon and Garfunkel but generational forebears The Beatles as well, while as far as anyone knew the month this came out Dylan was never going to record again either (in fact he's just getting his second wind with two records ready to come out in 1970). 'Bridge' promises to be always there for us, even though break-ups are an inevitable part of life and there's just enough joy here, just enough hope to make the pill of things coming to a sad inevitable end palatable. In a way it's Paul's most successful thematic album, with nearly a whole album this time reflecting the duo's time together and their mixed feelings for each other, which is both longer and more cohesive than the more celebrated 'Bookends' (although it would be a different story if the second half was as strong as the first). In a way it's Arty's most successful album, with some stunning vocal harmonies and more proof that it was his tweaking of Paul's songs into workable productions that turned them from promising compositions into great recordings. And in a way it's the worst album either of them ever did, with sloppy live recordings, juvenile innuendo, boring orchestral ballads and co-reggae proving that even had a limit over what grounds they could break. In another way it's perhaps just as well that Simon and Garfunkel ended here, before the list of duds started getting as long as the list of classics (following two much tighter albums in terms of quality material) -though on another the sheer class and beauty of 'The Boxer' and 'The Only Living Boy In New York City' makes you yearn for the pair to have stayed together just that bit longer to see if they record anything quite so magical again. Though both will create magic intermittently on their solo careers this is, in a very real sense, the end. And maybe the end was prepared for after all. 

Other Simon and Garfunkel articles from this site you might be interested in:


'Sounds Of Silence' http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2013/09/simon-and-garfunkel-sounds-of-silence.html
'Angel Clare' (1973) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/art-garfunkel-angel-clare-1973-album.html


‘Breakaway’ (1975) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-68-art-garfunkel-breakaway-1975.html

'Fate For Breakfast' (1979) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/07/art-garfunkel-fate-for-breakfast-1979.html

'The Animals' Christmas' (1986) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2013/12/art-garfunkel-animals-christmas-1986.html

'Songs From The Capeman' (1997) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/10/paul-simon-songs-from-capeman-musical.html

'You're The One' (2000) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/01/paul-simon-youre-one-2000.html


The Best Unreleased Simon/Garfunkel Recordings http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/simon-and-garfunkel-unreleased-tracks.html

The Monkees: Surviving TV Clips (Interviews/Live/Promos) 1956-2012





The Monkees, are of course, the AAA band most associated with television. Conceived from the first as a 'visual' band with four central characters who were equally at home acting as singing, it's no surprise that our AAA list of TV clips features another bumper crop this week. Given that The Monkees were only together a very short period (late 1966 to early 1970) and that they had a TV series offering them promotion for two of those years, however, there aren't actually that many clips of the band together as The Monkees (there actually isn't any featuring all four, adverts aside). According to our usual rules of only featuring band members when they were actually in a group and not appearing solo, this would be one of our shortest columns and I'd have to find something more interesting to do for the rest of the night. Given that there's nothing more interesting than watching AAA stars on youtube, however, and given what a visually creative and fascinating collection this little lot consists of we've gone for the longer option, even though it means more writing (and reading, sorry!) After all, television is as integral to The Monkees story as the record player and to be honest I'm astonished that nobody's put together a list of these great clips before (as far as I know).
There's a particularly fascinating crop of clips from before The Monkees were famous, for instance, where all four prove their acting credibilities in one way or another.  After The Monkees ended some of the band continued to act occasionally, notably Micky and Davy who were forever cropping up in small parts on TV (or, in Micky's case, as a regular voiceover artist – it may not have compared to 1966-1969 in quantity or quality, but I'm still amazed at the amount of work he did). Micky and Mike also continued their love affair with the camera from the other side of the lens, Micky becoming a television director and Mike re-establishing the music video as a creative force with 'Rio' in 1977, before going on to establish his own all-too-brief TV series, although we’ve been limiting on how many of these we’ve discussed (usually condensing strings of works together). There are also some highly revealing appearances featuring The Monkees as themselves, often the only time fans got to see the band in the days when repeats were fallow and no videos or DVDs yet existed. Finally, we usually don't count home movies or adverts made by our AAA bands in these TV columns, but both sections are particularly fascinating in The Monkees' case so we've included a couple of 'extras' at the end of our main text.
As ever, this list doesn't pretend to be complete and no doubt I've missed something somewhere. I've also restricted myself in this list to things that I know exist (because I've seen them) rather than programmes I know The Monkees appeared on which were either wiped or are sitting in the back of some collector's cupboard somewhere having never seen the light of day in several decades. For once, very little of this material is officially available, although the two official DVD sets do include a small handful of clips (sadly heavily edited) which we'll point out when we get there. Otherwise, until that bumper 'Monkeeshines' official DVD full of rarities and obscurities comes out (and it will be a killer to license) we'll have to make do with Youtube. Do not despair of finding it all though, dear reader, because I used my summer break last year wisely to put as many of these clips together as I could - and if you're reading this on our website we've even embedded our Monkees playlist into this article so you can watch while you read (just don't get eyestrain!) If for some reason it's not working ('oh Peter - what plug have you pulled out now?!') you can view it direct at https://www.youtube.com/user/AlansArchives - just have a look for the playlist marked 'Monkees'. Hey hey, roll film!

1.    Circus Boy (Micky,1956-1958)

It's the best show on Earth! (Well till The Monkees at any rate!) Most Monkees fans' first thoughts on watching a twelve-year-old Micky (then credited under his chosen stage name 'Micky Braddock') play with tigers and elephants is 'ah, isn't he sweet?' Their next thought is often 'blimey he's good' as Micky steals every scene he's in, despite the equally cute array of animals behind him or the much more experienced actors behind him. The series is set in the late Victorian days when running away to join a circus was still vaguely feasible and circuses were the height of sophistication and drama. Micky plays Corky, a young boy adopted by his circus 'family' after his parents die together in a trapeze accident, but Corky repays his circus family's love several times over by helping to save the circus from closure in a variety of unlikely ways. It's all good practice for later Monkee romps and there are references back to this popular series in both the 'Monkees At The Circus' episode ('What's that you're singing?' 'Oh just something from an old TV series') and the lines in Carole King’s [115] 'Porpoise Song' written for Micky and based on her memories of this series ('Riding the backs of giraffes for laugh's alright for a while'). However what really hits you all these years on is Circus Boy’s emotional impact, with Corky going through several difficult dilemmas during the run of the series, all of which the young Micky handles superbly well (he also pulls several of his 'Monkee' faces through the course of the series!) In total forty-nine episodes were made across two years, with Micky in all of them, and the show was even big enough to have its own annual made, which many fans like to keep alongside their Monkee ones. The show was originally broadcast on ABC but some repeats were shown on NBC, marking the first time any of The Monkees would appear on the channel that later screened their show. Though as much a part of its time (the mid 1950s) as The Monkees will be a decade later (the mid 1960s) this is no bad thing: Circus Boy is a charming series that's aged well. Alas, while every episode has been kept in the archives, very little of it has ever been made officially available - a few clips on Monkees documentaries is about all (though quite a few extracts are on Youtube, including a rare doo-wop version of the show's theme tune with a squeaky Micky on vocals and a strangely prescient clip where Micky gets taught how to play the drums so he can join the army - all good practice for what’s to follow!)

2.    Coronation Street (Davy 1961/1972)

Meanwhile, over in Manchester, Davy was appearing in another much-loved institution. Though Davy was originally only in Coronation Street for one episode (as Ena Sharples' grandson Colin Lomax), he made a big impact with his appearance. Even by Davy's standards he's, well, short, not to mention loveable, with sticky-out ears. Though mentioned on the series a few times, Colin wasn't seen again after some babysitting antics by his granny until post-Monkees in 1972 when he returned for four appearances. By now he had a wife, Karen, and a son, Jason, and wanted to make up with his estranged family (though he spends most of his appearance waiting for his granny in the Rover's Return). Typically with this series, something dramatic and unlikely happens straight away - Karen accidentally leaves their son outside in a pram, unattended. Cue a trip to the police station and - months later - the revelation that a mentally unstable Emily Bishop 'stole' the baby to make up for not being able to have one of her own. Reet peculiar, like most of Corrie to be honest, though our Davy has nowt to be ashamed of.


3.    Love Potion (Peter Tork College Film Circa 1962)

Peter's first flirtation with film is, characteristically, something a bit more cerebral. Though never actually 'released' anywhere, this ten minute class project was kept safe by one of Peter's classmates and let loose on the world thanks to Youtube some forty-odd years after being made. A silent movie, the film features a remarkably short-haired Peter (who looks as if he’s come from the marines) getting close to Monkee romps as he poses for the camera and makes big gestures with his arms, though for some reason he spends most of the film in the background, hiding behind a big car. I can't understand the plot at all (is the only clip we have edited?), which is good practice for 'Head' I suppose...


4.    Z Cars (Davy 1962)

Here's Davy in yet another British institution, with no less than three appearances in Britain's premier cops-and-robbers series. The episode I know is 'The Best Days' and stars Davy as Frankie Sale, a character not far removed from his famous 'Artful Dodger' character. Davy has been a very naughty boy, hired as a lookout for some older boys on a robbery that went wrong, and the police are round 'like a plague of locusts' interviewing his poor worried mother. I've never seen Davy's other two appearances in the episodes 'Four Of A Kind' (the very first episode of the entire series) or 'On Watch - Newtown', although all three exist (only somewhere around half the 800 episodes of ‘Z Cars’ do, so this is a rarity in itself!)


5.    Merv Griffin's Talent Scouts (Davy Jones c.1963)

'Oh he's got fans, how marvellous!' With that patronising introduction and attendant cheer from the audience young Davy makes his first TV appearance in what will be his new homeland of America, promoting the touring company version of 'Oliver' that's doing the rounds a full year nine months before his more famous appearance. Unusually, seventeen-year-old Davy's career is 'discussed' first by Georgia Brown, the actress playing Nancy, before the lad himself sings a sweet and rather high-pitched rendition of the show's tune 'Where Is Love?' (which is odd, because Nancy sings it in the musical, not the Artful Dodger!) Note Davy's very perfect and English diction in the year before regional accents become 'hip!' before he goes all Mockney on 'Consider Yourself'. He finishes by doing an early version of the 'Davy dance'!


6.    Ed Sullivan Show (Davy 1964)

Many people can recall where they were the night they saw The Beatles' first appearance on American television in February 1964. Davy could recall it better than most - he was waiting in the wings to come on as part of the touring cast of 'Oliver!' once more and said later that his life was changed forever by seeing the hordes of screaming teenagers and the electricity of the fab four' performance. Thankfully when these shows were put out on DVD in the 2000s as 'The Beatles: Complete Ed Sullivan Shows' each episode was left unedited, complete with all the weird and wacky and often excruciating acts that comprised the rest of the band's four appearances (waddya mean you made The Beatles leave the stage so we could have another ten minutes of Soupy Sales?!) Davy's segment as The Artful Dodger is one of the more interesting and entertaining extras, with a version of 'Consider Yourself’ sung with gusto as a by-now eighteen-year-old Davy's voice has finally broken and become more recognisable to most Monkee fans. Consider yourself one of us, indeed!


7.    The Farmer's Daughter (Davy Jones sings 'I'm Gonna Buy Me A Dog' 1965)

Another fascinating bit of history comes from a guest appearance by Davy on the NBC show 'Farmer's Daughter'. The closest thing an American teenage audience had to The Monkees before they had The Monkees, its subversive humour and young characters were a step in the right direction, though the humour was rather more forced. The show had a lot of Monkee links though, with Davy's and Mike’s screen test auditions taking place on a Farmer's Daughter set. Funnily enough Davy is playing a musician not unlike himself in this episode, part of a wannabe rock group 'Mohawk and the Mountains' who are struggling to get by. It's a parody of the sort of band The Monkees will be, full of desperation and gimmicks, and Davy (playing 'Roland') wears a very bad 'Sonny Bono' style wig, acting alongside a pretty near mirror of 'Mike'. The plot follows the band's attempts to get a manager - they settle for regular character Katy - and rehearse. Hilariously, too, the second half of the plot revolves 'miming' and the band not playing their own instruments with Davy (the only 'real' musician in the group) hidden behind a screen to make the rest of the band look good! The song they sing is familiar too, Davy's first Boyce and Hart song - a 'sensible' rendition of [12] 'Gonna Buy Me A Dog' which sounds quite, quite different!


8.    The Lloyd Thaxton Show (Mike Nesmith as Michael Blessing, US TV 1965)

So far we've seen Micky and Davy as younger caricatures of what they'll become later on, but nothing quite prepares you for what a twenty-two-year-old Mike Nesmith was up to in this period. Using his stage name 'Michael Blessing', Mike appears as a romantic crooner, publicising one of his early singles - a cover of Buffy St Marie's 'Until It's Time For You To Go'. Thaxton talks about Mike's as 'a name you'll be hearing - this is his sort of debut' (comparing him to an earlier debut by Sonny and Cher) and for once he's right, even if the name won't quite be the same. It seems odd to see Mike this young without a wool-hat on his head but he already sounds great, miming along to a record that deserved to do well. He's less sure about himself in the interview, nervous and monosyllabic in replies to simple questions about the record's name and availability. Mike won't be this shy for much longer!


9.    Peyton Place (Micky 1965)

Proof that back in 1965 most depictions of teenagers on television were of long-haired weirdoes comes with the unusual casting of Micky as a hoodlum. 'Peyton Place' was a long-running soap opera (largely considered America's first), not unlike 'Coronation Street', which features outlandish goings on in a small community where every event causes ripples across society. Micky guested in three episodes where he played the memorably named 'Kitch Brunner', a no good beatnik in a green jumper who spends most of his time in a coffee bar chatting up the wrong girls. Micky gets a love rival and spikes his drink, causing all sorts of drama before getting beaten up by his rival's brother on board a ship (long story!) This episode's strange throw-forward to The Monkees: 'I suppose you thought it was [168] 'good clean fun' huh?'


10. TV Advert 1966

'Those are Monkees? They look too hairy to be Monkees! They call themselves singer/musicians - I guess they couldn't decide which, huh?' The Monkees were advertised on telly with a simple trail, featuring an illustration of all four band members (which is more accurate than the Monkees annuals ever were!) surrounded by lots of girls and the first time anybody outside the band and production team heard that famous theme tune. The trail reveals that The Monkees premiere was on in between The Roger Miller Show and I Dream Of Jeanie. Looks like it might be good!

11. La Jolla (News Reel 1966)

To promote the 'Royal Flush' premiere on September 2nd 1966, all four Monkees spent the previous night on a Del Mar beach for an 'outside broadcast' radio competition and interview. Silent film of the event exists, though only in very poor quality and with a bootlegger maddeningly insisting on putting [38] 'Steppin' Stone' played backwards over the top (this isn't the poor youtube poster's fault before you get mad at him by the way - I used to have an old video copy that did this too!) In the sequence you get to see The Monkees practising their 'hey camera!' poses for the first time, while even in black and white Micky's shirt is loud in the extreme!


12. Newsreel UK Tour 1967

'Here they come, looking down from a balcony, surrounded by hordes of screaming fans, sounding so noisy!' British reporters were characteristically shocked and stunned about how many people turn out to see a visiting pop group in Kensington who - shock horror - aren't even British. Included in the news report are clips of The Monkees messing around at a press conference answering the usual questions (Davy - 'the Monkee who already speaks our language, being British' - : 'No I'm not leaving The Monkees and I'll be a Monkee for as long as there are Monkees!')


13. Emmy Awards 1967

There was a sense of joy in the air as James Frawley won an emmy for his directing work on 'The Royal Flush' and the band win best TV series, with all four members in attendance (Mike's in a very snazzy Vegas suit!) Frawley gets lots of hugs from his collaborators and even does a Monkee joke when he says 'I want to dedicate this to four funny guys' and as the camera cuts away to a proud looking Micky he then thanks 'Harpo, Chico, Groucho and Zeppo!' It's great to see Frawley rather than just hear him after the many times we hear his voice across the series. Sadly it's Bert and Bob rather than the band who take the 'best series' trophy, although Bob does dedicate his to 'The Monkees, the ones who really won this award!'


14. Newsreel Australian Tour 1968

'If you're under ninety and don't know who these men are then you'd better hand back your 'hip' badge!' More newsreel hysterics, this time down under with a visibly older Monkees on their last full tour together. Peter has grown a beard and is on particularly OTT form while Mike is off on one during the press conference snippet. There's confusion as a screaming fan is ejected and an awful lot of awful noise as the aeroplane takes off again!

15. Hy Lite (US TV 1968)

'Head...coming...soon! Where can you see it? All over the world!' With the TV show off the air, The Monkees have to plug their new feature film on another show and poor Hyman Lit is under the impression that the movie will be just a longer version of the band's TV episodes. Asking The Monkees to explain the plot they just look confused and umm and ahh a bit (Micky: 'It's like a collage' Mike: 'That was like a year ago - the movie is now!...It's character assassination, with a lot of fun at The Monkees' expense') The band also talk about the music making, Micky speaking about 'our individual roads - there's no group sound, there hardly ever was' and Mike about 'going back to our roots'. Mike also talks about Jimi Hendrix as 'the greatest living guitar player', which makes you realise with a jolt just how long ago this all was. A fun clip.


16. Glen Campbell Good Time Hour ('Last Train To Clarksville/I'm A Believer/Salesman/Clarksville (Reprise)' 'Tear Drop City' US TV February 1969)

A sign of how quickly The Monkees had fallen from grace, the post-Peter trio turn up as throwaway guests on this show with the man who used to be their guitarist, with their songs compacted into a brief unappealing medley and a badly mimed [164] 'Tear Drop City' where Micky can't remember the words. Glen doesn’t seem to even remember who they are, introducing them as ‘the most professional group in show business’ (!) Instead of their usual lengthy parts the trio appear in two short sketches which really aren't that funny (when did The Monkees get together? Would you believe the American Civil War? Me neither) and are borderline insulting for such comic geniuses (the funniest one involves a series of telephones ringing like an orchestra - and that's it, that's the whole joke!) Both clips were included as extras on the 'Season Two' DVD box set, although you kind of wish they hadn't bothered. Even less interesting is the sketch with the band joking about how long ago their first hit was ('You remember the horseless carriage'?) and going on for five whole minutes about the old days of the Victoriana and music hall, complete with awful songs and period hats (Mike looks rather good as a French Revolutionary mind!) Peter, sat at home watching, was probably glad he missed it. Sadly a period performance on the Joey Bishop Show, which includes the only surviving anything of the band with soul band Sam and the Goodtimers, now exists only as audio footage and sounds one hell of a lot better than this one does.


17. The Johnny Cash Show (US TV 'Last Train To Clarksville' 'Nine Times Blue' Everybody Loves A Nut' July 1969)

Perhaps the best clip of The Monkees in this list, Micky Davy and Mike meet up with the country legend for a ten minute chat and a singsong, starting  off with a surprisingly convincing mournful Cash rendition of [7] 'Last Train To Clarksville' before Micky complains his 'vocal chords are rusty' after three years of singing that song. Instead the band decide to 'play something off our new album', but alas Mike's beautiful ballad [76] 'Nine Times Blue' will be cut from 'Instant Replay' before release (how very Monkees to plug an album with a song you can't buy in the shops!) Though Mike produced versions featuring him or featuring Davy, this superior rendition features all three Monkees together, with Micky singing high and Davy in his natural range as a baritone. The effect is truly gorgeous and makes you wish they'd done a whole album like this, unplugged and with all the band singing. Sadly with that song out the way Cash is back to remind the band that they're not very popular anymore (charming!) and people think they're 'nuts'. Cue one of Cash's worst ever songs, the unfunny novelty track 'Everybody Loves A Nut', which people don't - at least judging by this nutty song (why Doesn't Cash sing [26] 'I'm A Believer' or [146] 'Mommy and Daddy’, songs right up his street, or get The Monkees to sing 'Ring Of Fire' or 'I Walk The Line'? What a lost opportunity!) Even so this is a priceless gem with The Monkees at their informal, playful best and Mike and Johnny will stay good friends till Cash’s sad death in 2003.


18. Happening '69 (US TV)

The last Monkees TV appearance (outside adverts) features a lot of jokes about 'Monkee-ing around' and has the band on as co-guests with their old-time rivals Paul Revere and The Raiders (The Monkees jokingly protest when the Raiders get top billing!) Later Davy walks past the band and shakes his head as the Raiders are trying to play and Micky starts 'stealing' their instruments - even the ones they're 'playing'! The result is complete chaos and anarchy, which is the sort of conditions The Monkees thrive in and they turn in one last great unified performance gurning for the camera and having fun, though with Davy taking charge and Mike largely keeping out the way. Towards the end The Monkees turn the tables on the hosts and ask them questions ('If you were the president of the United States what would you do?' 'Move to Russia!') Davy's favourite TV programme? 'Happening '68 - I'm living in the past, man!'


19. Music Scene (Davy Jones 1969)

Though The Monkees still had another year or so to go, Davy can see the end in sight and picks up whatever other TV work he can find to keep his name out there and make people get used to seeing him outside the group. The first appearance (at least that I can find) comes with Davy singing on a music variety programme. He doesn't choose any Monkees songs, instead picking Nilsson song 'Together', a song perhaps best known from Keith Moon's version on his 'Two Sides Of The Moon' album. Alas the band start a bit fast and Davy struggles to keep up, singing a little flat by his usual standards. His backing band are Sam and the Goodtimers, re-hired briefly after their Monkees tour.


20. Peapicker In Piccadilly (Davy Jones 1969)

Even stranger is this rare return to England, where Davy appears in the chorus of a Tennessee Ernie Ford TV Special all about, erm, England. The show is a loose interpretation of Charles Dickens novel 'The Old Curiosity Shop' with everyone dressed up in period dress. Inevitably Davy gets to sing his old warhorse 'Consider Yourself' alongside Harry Secombe (it must have seemed as if the past four years hadn't happened!) before moving on to 'HMS Pinafore' and even 'Scarborough Fair' (which sounds rather good Davy-fied!)


21. [200] Oh My My (Music Video 1970)

This final Monkees single is, perhaps surprisingly, the only official music video the godfathers of MTV put together until the reunion years (though the 'romps' from the TV series helped make the format 'mainstream' after The Beatles 'accidentally' invented it in 1965, I'm surprised the band didn't record any for the singles when the show was off the air). Micky directed this video himself, which features him and Davy romping around on motorbikes as well as - no doubt at Davy's suggestion - horses (the link being 'horsepower' presumably). Like the song, it's clearly trying to mine a very different image for The Monkees away from their cuddly teeny-boppery one, but it is perhaps a bit too little too late.

22. Love, American Style (Davy 1970-1973)

With The Monkees officially over in late 1970, Davy was the first Monkee to get a regular acting job. However it wasn't a job that stretched him very much - Davy was the natural casting as a romantic lead who falls in love every week in a long line of various ways as part of a sort of Mills and Boon anthology version of 'The Twilight Zone'. Though Davy wasn't in every episode, he did turn up in an awful lot of shows across the three year run, usually as the hapless romantic who can't get girls to date him. The 1973 episode 'Love and the Hidden Meaning' is particularly noteworthy as Davy stars alongside a very young Diane Keaton, accidentally getting the wrong house when he tries to rush in and elope with his girlfriend. Davy plays more slapstick than usual, even by Monkees standards.


23. Unknown (Davy Jones Australian TV 1971)

'I've pretty much got it together - I know what my direction's gonna be'. The Monkees remained popular in Australia long after the band had faded in America and Europe, with Davy a big enough name for an in-depth interview. Unfortunately for Davy it's an 'outside broadcast' interview where the cameraman is so unaware of what’s happening he has to be rescued from falling over! It's fascinating to hear pretty much the only lengthy interview with one of the Monkees in the aftermath of the band. Davy admits that The Monkees won't make any more personal appearances but might make some more recordings (sadly they won't) and talks about a group he's put together which sadly never did record or tour. Davy also discusses Mike's recent hit with 'Joanne' and sounds wistful about not having had one himself or as the interviewer suggests 'being invited to appear on it'. Interestingly the interviewer speaks of a Monkees continuing in some form, 'just without all four original members' - the scale of The Monkees' split doesn't seem to have quite hit Down Under yet!


24. The Brady Bunch (Davy 1971)

By far Davy's most popular post-Monkees moment came with an appearance in a programme that could be considered a show for younger siblings of Monkees fans (just as The Monkees were for younger siblings of Beatle fans!) The Brady Bunch started almost a year to the day after The Monkees went off the air and was in its stride by the time of Davy's cameo appearance. Davy even gets an episode named after him, with 'Getting Davy Jones' available in the season three box set of 'The Brady Bunch' (its episode twelve). In the show he befriends Marcia Brady who longs for him to be her 'prom date' and he takes her to a school dance after showing her round his recording studio where he sings 'Girl' for her. 'Girl' was such a popular song Davy often sang it at many a Monkee concert, along with 'Rio' the only solo original any of the reunion era Monkees ever performed, as well as releasing it as his last single on the 'Bell' label where it outsold most of the last Monkees singles without doing enough to keep him at the label.


25. Roger Whittaker Show (Davy Jones 1971)

A sign of just how far The Monkees had come from long-haired weirdoes representing teenage culture to sceptical adults to an institution comes from Davy's appearance on this oldies variety hour with the veteran whistler, alongside fellow guests Val Doonican and The Tremeloes. Davy sings a slightly cautious version of his single 'Rainy Jane' while a load of girls with umbrellas dance behind him. It's nice to have a rare clip of Davy singing rather than acting and he copes with the rather odd choreography well, although you can tell a lot of the joy has gone out of his performances now he's on the 'has been' circuit.


26. Night Of The Strangler (Micky 1972)

After a lean spell it was Micky's turn to rise, with a feature film no less. However it's a rather odd feature film - as the person who posted this on Youtube puts it, this film isn't set at night and no one does any strangling - it is instead one of those long slow suspenseful horror films where actually not a lot happens and you fall asleep long before the end. Well, actually, no - if Micky is your favourite Monkee then you'll like this film quite a lot, if only because it’s the closest thing to a 'sex' scene in the Monkees filmography! Micky and his young bride are getting married, much to the disgust of her rich dad and a racist brother, who gets punched by Micky early on. The film kinda goes downhill from there, although Micky is easily the best of a bad bunch. A 1975 re-release of the film called it 'Ace Of Spades', which made about as much sense as the original title, but nobody watched that version either.

27. Treasure Island/Oliver Twist (Davy 1973-74)

With work drying up and his perennial young looks fading (well, Davy looked twenty rather than twelve) Jones found himself getting more and more involved in voiceover work including two major feature-length cartoons made in England. Davy's voice still sounded young though and he makes a good casting as Jim Hawkins. This is, however, not the best adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson's novel - its full of the 'shiver me timbers me hearties' dialogue that isn't actually in the original and the ship's mouse gets more to do than the humans - he isn't even in the flipping book! Not much better is Davy's turn as Tiny Tim in the following year's Dickensian sequel ‘A Christmas Carol’, which is a shame as with Davy's beginnings in 'Oliver' a return to Dickens should feel more like a homecoming. It's less a case of 'God bless us everyone' and more 'please sir - we don't want anymore!'


28. Dolenz, Jones, Boyce and Hart: I Remember The Feeling (Music Video 1976)

The guys who wrote 'em and the guys who sang 'em bounced back to celebrate the tenth anniversary of [7] 'Clarksville' with a new album and a concert tour - mainly in Japan where the crowd were less likely to throw things. Alas The Monkees still hadn't quite been forgiven yet for something that wasn't even a problem in the first place (honestly, barely anybody played their own instruments by 1976!) The music video for the lead-off single is still a must-see, however, a rare chance to see Micky and Davy duetting on film. Alas both singers seem to have forgotten the art of miming down the years (they were probably rusty - it had been a while) while all four singers seem to be enjoying upstaging each other rather than taking this nostalgic song seriously. It's all good fun, however, with a bit of a Monkees vibe about both song and clip. This won't get you as high as the ceiling, perhaps, as promised in the song, but pretty high all the same.


29. Dolenz, Jones, Boyce and Hart (TV Special 1976)

Somebody in telly still had a soft spot for The Monkees, hence this twenty-five minute special despite poor record sales, which is kind of the sketch show-interview format the band had planned for their third season. What could have been ‘Frost On Sunday’, though, rapidly degenerates into a lesser Two Ronnies. The show starts with a joke that misses - an offer for a record that doesn't exist - and goes downhill from there really, with a sketch where every speech rhymes (well most of the time) as Boyce and Hart try to write a song and Micky and Davy get sucked right along. The sketch then leads into a dotty medley, which comes across and unenthusiastic and under-fed(ly), full of Monkees Boyce and Hart and rock and roll, full of the sort of scenes that 'Grease' later stole. The quartet then play 'Keep On Singing' which goes on and on, a 'Vaudeville' [57] Cuddly Toy that goes on too long, a heavy version of [38] 'Steppin Stone' that Micky turns into one great drone, and [26] 'I'm A Believer' which is ragged but sweeter. Overall though it all comes off a bit half-cocked, a strange mixture of vaudeville and glam rock! After the show was aired Dolenz Jones Boyce and Hart's careers came to a standstill and they knew they had to part.


30. Dinah Shore Show (Dolenz Jones Boyce and Hart 1976)

The quartet had one last bit of promotion on our list though, by far the best of the DJBH team's appearances. The band turn in some good jokes: that Davy can't get onto the high stools put out for them, that they've all been 'recuperating' since the band broke up rather than working and talk about winning a celebrity tennis tournament. There's a fun part where Micky spotted Elizabeth Taylor while on holiday and got his girlfriend to snap a photo of him 'pretending' to be going out with her - the actress was game enough to play along and give him a kiss! The foursome perform some nice acoustic versions of old classics including a pretty fair attempt at an unplugged [1] Monkees Theme, an upbeat [7] 'Clarksville',  a folky [3] 'I Wanna Be Free', a stripped bare [61] 'Pleasant Valley Sunday' (the only time Boyce-Hart play on it), a clapalong [26] 'I'm A Believer' and best of all a duet between Micky and Davy on a unique version of [109] 'Daydream Believer'. At long last Micky gets to show off his guitar skills and the harmonies are so much better than the album: the whole tour and record should have been done like this. The Monkees fare less well at a chaotic spelling bee alongside the show's other guests, but have typical Monkee fun getting everything as badly wrong as they possibly can! A great clip.


31. Rio (Mike Nesmith Music Video 1977)

When Mike Nesmith told his record company he wanted 'Rio' to be his next single they asked him if he'd consider making a music video to help promote it. Now Nez hadn't paid much attention what the pop world was up to and was given no real direction o what to do, so he took the company’s instructions for a ‘video’ at their word, creating an epic mini movie that was utterly different to anything that had been seen before (including what The Monkees had been up to). The result was very popular and helped push the single high up the rankings as Mike and his backing singers fly round the world, dances on the moon, appear as part of a roaring twenties band making a radio broadcast and takes a picnic at the beach. The result, Mike's first return to the TV world since leaving The Monkees behind, is a dazzling array of colours and still fondly remembered to this day. The video is available officially as part of a compilation of Nez's videos 'The Pacific Arts Box Set'.


32. Top Of The Pops (Mike Nesmith 'Rio' 1977 UK TV)

More stripped down but just as lovely is a rather lumberjack-style Nesmith appearance on Britain's most popular music show during a rare appearance in the country after 'Rio' sold so well there. In an uncomfortably stilted interview Mike says that he was inspired to watch the song by viewing old Hollywood movies and that he still hasn't got round to going to Rio while he hangs around to introduce the next act ('This week's number one is a song by Abba. What's it called? I haven't a clue...')


33. Captain Caveman and the Teen Angels (Micky 1977-1980)

With DJBH shunted to a siding, the foursome went their separate ways. Micky was first out the box with the first of many voiceover work for cartoons, this time for Warner Brothers luminary Captain Cavema-e-a-e-a-e-an!' (phonetic pronunciation). The show ran for four years and contained forty-two eleven minute episodes, most of them revolving around the antics of stone age super-hero Captain Cavema-e-a-e-a-e-a-e-an. The legendary Mel Blanc actually portrayed Captain Cavema-e-a-e-a-e-a-e-a-e-an; Micky was one of several regular voices which changed every week and appeared in (or at least got credited for) every episode. He probably got the break after playing similar characters in the 1973 animated version of 'Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kids' and a guest part in Scooby Doo.


34. Deep Inside: Peter Tork (US TV 1979)

Erm, we weren't quite sure what we were getting ourselves in for after hearing the title of this next piece but, relax, it's just an interview, ok? Peter's first TV appearance in eleven years was a big event for Monkeefans, rather oddly shot for the Public Broadcasting Service in black and white, although it's a much deeper interview than most - more like the British 'Face To Face' series if you're old enough to remember it. Peter looks good but seems frustrated by always being associated with his old band ('A Monkee' my primary means of recognition? It's my only reason for recognition!') Peter says that he never did get his 'realisation' with The Monkees and wasn't good at keeping his money ('That is to say there's a lot of people walking around who had some stoned times they might not otherwise have had'). However he loved the chance to make records on his own with the studio paying for the time, even if he is notably reluctant to talk about the old days and even more reluctant to talk about his present. This 'reasonably spontaneous' interview has some real highpoints (Peter slagging off capitalism! As ever he's passionate and articulate on one of his favourite subjects and less obviously talks about becoming more religious with age) but Peter seems reluctant to speak and too busy laughing to take the interview as seriously as he might have done.


35. Lovelight (Micky Dolenz Music Video 1979)

Micky and his second wife Trina both star in the singer's long hoped for comeback. Micky put a decent song and an interesting video together, clearly inspired by what his old colleague Mike had done with 'Rio'. Trina dances like a Buddhist statue with lots of arms thanks to the wonders of late 1970s graphics while Micky tries to sing up front. Most of the song/video  is romantic, but be warned about the creepy shot of Micky physically added to his wife's eyes socket in an effect that should have been kept for a Hammer Horror film.


36. Pop Quiz (Davy Jones UK TV c.1980)

'Pop Quiz' was a short-lived attempt to hook a teenage audience into pop records into watching celebs answer questions about them - a sort of cross between Trivial Pursuit, Radio Four's ‘Counterpoint’ quiz and ‘Never Mind The Buzzcocks’. The idea could have worked, but the guests - though Davy is technically only thirty-three and the youngest here - were to most teenagers watching from another era altogether and something to make their mums and dads watch rather than them. Davy seems uncomfortable, but less so than fellow panellist John Entwistle of The Who, paying off yet another debt he's racked up by arching his eyebrows and trying to stay above it all. Davy’s most interesting question is on the intro of The Beatles' 'Drive My Car’ if you’re wondering!


37   Puzzle Trail (Davy Jones UK TV 1980)

So what was Davy up to at the start of a new decade? He was playing a giant game of hide and seek. The 'Challenge Anneka' of its day, Davy interacts with lots of drama school rejects who offer him clues while the viewers at home try to work things out before him and learn something about compass directions/maths/interview techniques/coping with idiots in funny hats along the way. I can't tell if Davy's loving this job or hating it - chances are it's a little of both, with some great double-takes to camera along the way.

38) Saturday Superstore (Davy Jones UK TV c.1980)

Davy is the latest AAA star to turn to this British kiddies TV programme to plug their wares, even though none of the under tens watching know who he is. Davy's plugging his short-lived treasure hunt show where a panel got to work out clues and track prizes down (he was the first 'Challenge Anneka', in a way!) and seemingly enthusiastic although he answers the blunt question 'is it difficult to know what to do next after all that fame?' with a sigh. As ever, Davy is happier talking about his beloved horses and his plans to ride at the Grand National in 1981, though he chats quite happily about how many modern TV programmes look like The Monkees. Davy returned a week later for the results of a competition to give away his precious maracas (presumably without any microfilm left inside!) and gives out the answers (all related to horse racing) while dressed in a wetsuit for no apparent reason. Next up on original broadcast, Davy sings a very out of tune version of [57] 'Cuddly Toy' with presenter Mike Read for all the children present (presumably nobody present knew that Harry Nilsson wrote the song about a Hell's Angels gangbang or they'd be in trouble!) The only reason anyone remembers Saturday Superstore anymore is the phonecalls from the nation's children (actually using big phone handsets!) which as ever provide some fascinating questions: 'Did you ever have a crush on a teacher?' 'Yes I had a science teacher called Miss Dickinson, I was kept in for doing something naughty with me Bunsen burner!'; 'Do you keep in touch with the other Monkees? 'Yes I talk with Micky who lives here and Mike I speak to sometimes but he lives in America and with Peter at Christmas we send each other cards and late at night the phone rings and we'll have a chat!'; 'What did you enjoy most about The Monkees?' 'It was one of the best times on my life - I loved meeting the other guys and travelling to all sorts of places I wouldn't have got to and to be able to fool around and be a clown on screen and not just at home!' Whoever won Davy's cuddly toy Janet Rabbit by the way? I'd love to know if The Monkees' hare is still around...Finally Davy's on the 'pop panel' alongside Julian Lennon and the pair team up to savage Elton John's latest while Davy is dismissive of Giorgio Moroder.


39) The Little and Large Show (Davy c.1980)

Sid Little's trying to sing [109]'Daydream Believer' but Eddie Large thinks it's awful, so gets in the real singer, Davy. He's not impressed - until Davy mentions working the alarm clock on the original. Poor Davy having to watch a second-rate Morecambe and Wise murder his favourite song, although he sounds rather good singing deeper on the only verse he's allowed!


40) Metal Mickey (Micky 1980-1983)

'Boogie Boogie!' The robot Metal Mickey was originally built as a one-off segment of the children's show we're not allowed to mention anymore (*whisper*Jim'll Fixit). The robot proved to be such a success and got so many letters that a whole spin-off series was commissioned, with a second 'Micky' brought in to produce and direct it. Since the end of Dolenz Jones Boyce and Hart, Micky had been growing more interested in behind the scenes TV work and was given this show partly because it aped the Monkees humour style so well. Micky - the metal one - was a robot who'd come to live with a family and much in the vein of period drama (he looks like R2D2 and has a back story like ET's) and starred Irene Handl as the family grandma. The show was a big success almost instantly - probably the second biggest project a Monkee was ever involved in - and often got twelve million viewers (which is more than, say, Dr Who was getting at the time!) Some forty-one episodes were made, with some excellent early shows, although the formula becomes more ,,,shall we say 'robotic' as time wears on. Micky even used his old record business contacts and made the show a 'multimedia' enterprise with the robot getting his own record label (Mickeypops) and releasing a total of six singles while the programme was on the air, including a cover of The Beatles' 'I want To Hold Your Hand' that's so 'wrong' it's very nearly 'right'. The show is slowly being released onto DVD, although 'slowly' seems to be the word as there's now been a very long gap after the second series with two more still to go. Sadly the robot star hasn't been seen since, although rumour is he's teamed up with Marvin The Paranoid Android and the pair are currently touring as a double act in Alpha Centauri and Zigorous Three.


41) Unknown (Davy Jones Japanese TV c.1981)

It's Davy's turn to peak about the past and a chance to catch up with his four years away. Davy actually made lots of appearances in Japan which always had a special soft spot for The Monkees, but this is the only one I've seen. Davy invites the Japanese interviewer into the house where his family are staying and introduces him to his wife and daughters. The communication issues are a problem, but it's good to see Davy's nearest and dearest talking and to see Davy fooling around with the newest member of the Jones clan, daughter Jessica. We then cut to Davy in the studio where the Japanese fans mobbing him make it seem like 1967 all over again. He seems a bit fed up to be honest and not his usual bubbly self at all, but then he does have to wait hours while the interviewers talk between themselves in between questions!



42) Elephant Parts (Mike Nesmith TV Special 1981)

'Even the nicest neighbourhood can be spoilt by...neighbours'. 'Rio' had re-awakened Mike Nesmith to the potential of television and after finishing his current commitments he started work on a bizarre TV pilot that sadly never turned into a full series and would again have been more like the third series of the Monkees TV Show, with sketches interspersed with song. It's all very early 1980s and has dated far less well than, say, 'The Monkees' original show but was very groundbreaking for its day. The opening, for instance, has Mike singing a snatch from his hit 'Joanne' before we pan down to his legs - and see he's more, well, amphibian than we remember. The next sketch has a man with 'Bee Gees' disease that leaves him going 'ah ah ah ah' all the time. Another sketch appears to be an advert, but it's for Mike's new album which 'chops, dices, grinds, twists and agitates almost all your favourite foods', while a vinyl record is used as a knife. The most famous sketch has Mike as a drunken bore who hasn't noticed that his lady friend is dead ('I've set her on fire again - it's the third time this week, bring me a Margarita for my wife's alight hair!') The best sketch is a game-show entitled 'Name That Drug' where rockstars try to remember what it is that caused them to lose their memory in the first place! The show will be over the heads of most fans - a lot of its way above mine and as longterm readers of this site will know there aren't many humours weirder than your author’s. Most fans will just settle for the videos, all of which are treated to 'Rio' style makeovers and feature songs from the lesser Nesmith album 'Infinite Rider On The Bog Dogma'. 'Light' aka 'The Eclectic Light' (which is basically a bunch of arty silhouettes standing in windows and doorways), is arguably the best and prettiest of the songs and videos, but none of them have the magic of Rio and Mike doesn’t appear in them much. These are ‘Cruisin’ (in which he stands on a New York street corner watching some very weird people walk past), Magic (in which he serves burgers to a very 1950s looking lot of extras) and ‘Tonite’ (in which he takes a new brand of ‘Elvis’ wonder pills and heads out for a night on the town). The show overall was successful enough to win the first ever Grammy award for music video, although even at the ceremony nobody seemed to understand the extract much or to have watched the show when it was on. Two DVDs have since been released featuring this show - the first featuring a unique bonus audio commentary where Mike comments on a different show altogether, designed to be as out-of-synch with what we're watching as possible!


43) The David Letterman Show (Peter Tork 1982)

'You can get the Monkee records for $1.50 in all the bargain bins!'; 'Oh they've gone up have they Peter?!' Peter makes another rare appearance on an American talk show as he rather nervously chats about his past and his future. His first task was to declare the winner of a competition to have dinner with him, won by a lovely elderly lady named Esther Pollock who seems absolutely thrilled with her victory. Peter, gentleman that he is, spends a lot of his time chatting to her even though he's clearly upset not to be with a young groupie. As ever, though, when he gets nervous Peter garbles and it's sometimes hard to keep up. Peter is particularly interesting talking about the fact that he was 'playing' a character who happened to share his name. Peter also quips to the camera at one point 'if you're watching this Mike - eat your heart out!' Mike will in fact drop a few months later...


44) The David Letterman Show (Mike Nesmith 1982)

'It's really interesting having a pulpit of pop culture and people listening to what I have to say about the war and everything else and then it's printed - 'My favourite colour is green'. Mike's on to plug his 'Timerider' film and 'Elephant Parts', an extract of which gets a rather good response from the audience. He talks about the fact that all his projects are going to be videos rather than just albums from now on (though sadly he'll end up doing not much of either) and after Peter’s appearance a few months earlier jokes that Letterman is trying to reunite The Monkees by filming them one by one and making it as a special (alas Micky and Davy never do show up!) Mike also gives a rare speech about his mum inventing liquid paper. Sadly, unlike his co-star, Mike doesn't get to go on a date.


45) Live CNN (Mike Nesmith 1982)

1982 was Nez's chattiest year by far, as he jokes with CNN anchor Bill Tush about how 'big' his career is getting. Mike says that Peter has just rung him the other day about a possible reunion but he's got too much going on he can’t make it. He talks about his idea for 'Popclips' ('which turned into MTV) and how 'I really think in the future you're going to watch music rather than listen to it', with pioneers Sony putting out a trial video with the music included in the 'lines' of the TV picture. Mike's on good form and is notably more at ease than he was with Letterman on this must-see clip. 


46) Geraldo (Peter Tork 1983?)

'The older I get the younger I was!' A long haired Peter jokes with chat show Geraldo Rivers that he hopes he is getting mature in his middle years but is told he's still making the same bad jokes. He seems happier to talk about the band's early days and how 'Headquarters' was 'all of us - apart from a French horn because I couldn't play one of those back then'. He adds that he's still friendly with the other Monkees and quips 'I never hated any of them - for very long!'


47) The Tim Rice Show (Micky Dolenz 1983?)

'They cast musicians and actors' 'And which were you?' 'Neither!' For once Micky isn't being asked much about The Monkees - although he soon puts down ideas that he doesn't want to talk about them, saying he was 'proud' to be a member and it was 'the greatest thing that ever happened to me' - but about the hit stage play he's been directing, Bugsy Malone. Micky makes the fascinating point that The Monkees were cast as strangers because existing groups all tended to look and think alike and creators Bert and Bob wanted four contrasting personalities. He liked directing for the series 'because that's where the power was' and that he doesn't miss America at all, with TV series in Britain much easier to make without committees and with the directors often solely in charge.


48) Luna (Micky 1983-1984)

Micky's sequel to 'Metal Mickey' was never as popular or as long-running but is just as fondly remembered. Luna' was a dimini-being (children's character in English speak) science-fiction series set in 2040 where a faceless Government has worked out the best way of splitting the world's populations up into sections and the struggles of those trapped within each confine to cope with other views so different to their own. Luna, especially, is a strong creation with the same renegade anarchic spirit as The Monkees fighting against the more restrictive adult society of the 1960s. The show was especially remarkable for featuring an OAP punk who still refuses to become an adult - unthinkable back in the 1980s but a possibility that's getting nearer with every year! Patsy Kensit played the lead, long before her marriage to fellow AAA-er Liam Gallagher, but really it's an ensemble cast extraordinarily well written and directed by Micky. Sadly only twelve episodes were ever made before the series was cancelled without a real resolution to it and it's now become very hard to track down - a DVD release would be most welcome (it would make a great present for your next batch-day!)


49) [216] That Was Then, This Is Now (Music Video 1984)

It's as if they'd never been away! Micky and Peter clown around just like they used to for the pair's reunion video (Davy and Mike stayed away) which is intercut with vintage clips of the band doing more or less the same gags. Which is a bit odd when you think about it, given that the theme of the song is that the present and the past are two separate things! There's even a similar amount of Monkeemania screaming the second time around! A bit of a bland video but it does the job, reminding people who The Monkees were if they vaguely remembered and being just exciting enough to check out if they were new to you.



50) Pebble Mill (Davy Jones UK TV 1984?)

Though Davy had no new product to promote, he was still a popular TV draw. He went right back to his earliest years when he appeared on Pebble Mill (a less pretentious version of 'The One Show') and sang a big band medley of songs from Lionel Bart's show 'Oliver!', the musical that had given him his big break. Alas, rather than appearing with The Beatles on the Ed Sullivan show in sunny America, ,Davy is playing to a load of bored presenters in the middle of Birmingham sandwiched in-between sections on cooking potatoes and fashions in Timbuktu. 'Who will buy?' suddenly sounds rather apt.


51) Television Parts (Mike 1985)

Mike's long delayed sequel to the surprise runaway hit 'Elephant Parts' lacks a lot of the invention of its predecessor and the humour seems a little more forced in parts. The ideas, though, are much the same - Mike 'cleaning' his new record by putting it in a washing machine and cutting to a scene straight out of a Persil advert, Mike playing a Swedish historian and anthropologist explaining that the similarity of restaurants between Scandinavia and America prove that they were founded by the same natives, Whoopi Goldberg as a surfer chick, the usual kind of stuff (wait - did I dream that last one?!) Alas there's less music this time around and what there is is shared between lots of artists rather than just Nesmith. Two videos, 'The Television Parts Home Compendium' and 'Dr Duck's Super-Secret All-Purpose Sauce', were both released soon afterwards though none of the show has yet appeared on DVD.


52) [219] Heart and Soul (Music Video 1986)

Clearly of all the groups making comebacks in the 1980s The Monkees just had to make a music video - they'd helped invent the flipping things after all. Luckily 'Heart and Soul' is one of the best. A gorgeous video that's oh so Monkees, which starts off in 1967 when the guys are at the peak of their powers - and who then have themselves placed in a giant refrigeration unit so they can wake up twenty years later 'Adam Adamant' style (presumably the fridge containing Mike broke down somewhere along the way). Awoken into this brave new world Micky, Davy and Peter reform the band and try to adapt to the new ways of going about making a record, with some spot on parodies such as putting coins in the meter of a 'make your own music video' booth. The punks making their own videos are as bemused by The Monkees as they are of them - even when The Monkees dress up in the latest fashions to try and get access! Very funny and very in keeping with the humour of the series. This clip is available on the home video 'Heart and Soul', a mis-mash of interviews, promotion and music videos from the band's 1986 reunion.


53) [225] Every Step Of The Way (Music Video 1986)

Like the single, this second video release from 'Pool It' is almost as good but not quite there. The Monkees are down and outs looking to put together a band when they come across a heap of junk - soon the bin lids are doubling as drums, Peter's playing a mean guitar solo on a mop and Davy - dressed as David Lee Roth - is singing into a mouldy carrot. The band are clearly having a lot of fun making this video though and even briefly revive their old 'Monkee walk', while there's a new twist on jokes about Davy's height when the use of reflections makes him out to look really tall and threatening compared to the others!


54) MTV (US TV 1986)

Though Mike Nesmith hadn't joined the band for the reunion (the death of his liquid paper inventing mother, who'd left her fortune to him, meant that he really didn't need the money) he gave it his (Michael) blessing (of sorts) with a brief Monkee reunion for an MTV Christmas special. The channel clearly had close links with The Monkees - they showed re-reruns of their old series all the time and might not have existed at all had Nesmith not paved the way with 'Pop Clips', a pilot that strung lots of music videos together back in the early 1980s (missing from this list because Nesmith is barely in it). Peter had already appeared earlier in the ear as a guest DJ (or 'VJ' as the channel irritatingly called it's 'video-jockeys'), where 'I'll show some of my favourite Monkee clips in between striking some of my favourite poses' and an interview with the dummy Mr Schneider that has to be seen to be believed (he's been married four times apparently - all at the same time to different women!; Warning: the links also include copious banjo lessons). Best quote: 'Are you still friends with Stephen Stills? ‘Of course I am - and when I get my hands around him you'll soon find out how much of a friend I am!'  As for the reunion, Micky Davy and Peter sing a load of Christmas songs including a wretched version of Lennon's 'Happy Xmas (War Is Over)' - probably taken in part from the unreleased festive 1976 LP of Davy's by the sound of it - and mime a lot of Christmas day shenanigans. Throughout it all a bemused Father Christmas stands at the back of shot and occasionally falls over. The pay-off comes at the end when he decides to take his hat off and underneath its...Mr Schneider! No wait, wrong episode, it's...Mike Nesmith! God bless you Monkees, every one.


55) American Music Awards 1987 (Micky Davy and Peter)

The Monkees are back to a trio again to collect their award for 'best reunion album featuring old primates in a pool' or something - I don't know, there were too many of these award ceremonies back then! The audience go nuts for the band, causing Micky to ad lib and Davy to quip that he 'always gets very nervous' when Micky goes off script! The band seem a bit sulky given that half of America seem to be screaming their names and you can see why there never was a second reunion album in the 1980s - even though they're meant to be acting annoyed by the corny humour, even their acting's not that authentic! Micky looks good in glasses, the only time he's seen wearing them while not playing a 'character'. The level of the humour: 'Now listen, I'm the judge. Do you swear ?' 'Yes often, when provoked!’ Peter ends the sketch by declaring 'we're not getting paid anyway' and simply walking off.


56) Solid Gold (US TV 1987 Micky Davy and Peter)

The Monkees perform - well, mime – [225] 'Every Step Of The Way' on a night-time music series that ran between 1980 and 1988. That's Nina Blackwood flirting with the band as she announces them, although sadly the band don't chat, just sing.


57) Fan Club (US TV Micky Davy Peter 1987)

The trio of Monkees are in deep discussion of Monkee songs when they suddenly notice the camera and say 'I know them!' before greeting all their Monkeefans 'and you know who we are!' 'I'm Micky Dolenz' says Peter, helpfully. There follows a fun selection of questions and answers. Peter: 'Do we miss Michael? Even when he's here we miss Michael!' Davy: 'He'd better join us - he owes me money!' Peter: 'The difference between fan mail then and fan mail now is...' Micky: 'You pay more postage today!' Davy, meanwhile, has been reading philosophy: 'Success is not measured by what you reach in life but what you overcame to reach that success!' (though he isn't credited in this interview, Davy reveals in another it's from a favourite book by Booker T Washington). The three then fight over what the most important thing is: a tour, a record or a film (which sadly never did happen!) Another very fun clip!


58) Mike Hammer (Micky 1987)

In a fight between comic book characters Mike Hammer would come out somewhere near the top (though perhaps a cow pie down from Desperate Dan). A tough brutal killer without remorse, he seeks revenge on the world's murderers and ignores the word of the law through using his own morals. All of which makes this series an unlikely one for the cuddly Micky Dolenz to make an appearance in, during an episode titled 'Deadly Collection'. Micky plays a man in fear of his life who gets Mike Hammer to protect him - and no doubt wishes he hadn't as his life gets very complicated. Micky is rather good playing a serious role, although his gangster accent does come and go (I was so sure he was going to say 'alright you dirty rat' in his inimitable impression of the inimitable James Cagney!)


59) My Two Dads (Davy 1988)

The latest in our run of unfunny American sitcoms starring AAA bands in bewildering cameos is Davy's turn in this sitcom about Nicole a girl with, you guessed it, two dads. Davy clearly hoped to emulate his guest part in the Brady Bunch here, in an episode entitled 'The Fallen Idol', where he plays a friend of one of the two 'dads' Joel and is a singer come part-time salesman who plugs products between songs. Davy sings a new track named 'Oh Nicole', which isn't bad actually, very in keeping with his Bell era recordings.


60) Tapeheads (Mike 1988)

Made by Nez's 'Pacific Arts' video company, 'Tapeheads' is a fun film about the growing trend of music video production companies. The hapless staff played by John Cusack and Tim Robbins back in the days before either was a big name can't sell their products so they 'steal' a concert telethon and accidentally get hailed as music production geniuses. The film is full of 'Elephant Part's humour and as well as producing the film Nesmith has a cameo as a, umm, bottled water salesman (best not to ask).


61) Aspel and Co (UK TV  'I'm A Believer' Micky Davy and Peter 1989)

'It's not Chekov but...you know!' This short five minute interview features the trio of reunion Monkees talking on a British talk-show and hardly seems worth the bus fare, to be honest. The band discuss embarrassing their children (Davy's daughter’s friends consider him a 'major babe’ apparently!) Davy describes the band as 'a cross between The Beatles and the Barron Knights' and Peter discusses plans that have fallen along the way (such as a Monkees theme park and declaring their own independent nation!) Alas the film the band talk about never happened. Best quote: Davy - 'The show was successful in twenty-seven different countries...' Peter - 'And a failure in about thirty-five more!'


62) Pat Sajak (US TV Micky Davy and Peter 1989)

'They're still screaming for you!' 'Well there's no accounting for taste is there?!' Pat Sajak started his career as a weather reporter on a local news anchor - not unlike the ones The Monkees regularly spoofed in their TV series. The Monkees - well three of them again - play a funky version of [38] 'Steppin' Stone' with all the band singing, complete with a great fake false finale where the band rush back to the microphones after being halfway to sitting down! They end with a similarly revved-up [61] 'Pleasant Valley Sunday' that doesn't work quite so well. Once again the presenter only wants to know about Mike being missing but has at least done his homework enough to locate the original 'Madness!!! Audition!!!' notices. More worrying, he's dug up a rare article about the band being scared of girls ('It's a mis-print' corrects Micky, 'It's thrills!') The band discuss their family (Davy: 'I have four daughters, all girls!' Peter: 'My daughters are assorted!' Micky: 'Only some are humanoid!') The band move on to discuss girlfriends: 'I wasn't allowed to do certain things with them' says Davy, meaning being seen in public. 'Oh I was!' says Micky, grinning. The crowd are on particularly good form and play up well when Peter tries to choreograph their screams. They boo when the presenter talks about the abandoned series 'The New Monkees', but the band sound quite fond of and apologetic for them. Another great clip.


63) Night Network (Davy Jones UK TV 1989?)

Davy's feeling rather smug - he's just been voted 'sexiest guy on TV'...by the four-to-fourteen year old group range! (Who on earth commissioned that poll?! Creepy!) As the rather stilted presentation gives away (Simon O'Brien is an actor best known for Fraggle Rock, not a natural presenter), this is a programme from back in the days when British TV channels had to show something during the night that couldn't be a repeat and so chose to do things as cheaply but as painfully as possible. Davy talks about the varied age of the Monkee audience, discusses learning to play a little guitar ('it's about this big!') and his role 'staging' the current Monkees touring show.  Best joke: 'We weren't the greatest musicians in the world - when we played the national anthem people from every country stood up!' Davy also compares Micky to a sniffer dog - with affection. I think.


64) Boy Meets World (Micky/Davy/Peter 1994-1995)

'Boy Meets World' doesn't seem the most obvious candidate for a mini-Monkee reunion - it's one of those 'coming of age' children's series that are on at least once a generation - but no less than three Monkees passed through the series' rank of guest stars (though sadly not all at the same time). What attracted them? Well they do all get a chance to play and become various mentors to the main characters, but other than that I haven't a clue - perhaps the catering truck was a particularly good one? Micky appears in series two, episode eight 'Band On The Run' which is out on DVD and is mainly notable for a funky performance of 'Good Lovin' . Davy's episode is titled 'Rave On' and dates sometimes later, apparently not from any of the series out on DVD yet. I still can't find Peter's!


65) Wings (Peter Tork 1995 cameo)

Wings was a sitcom about a rural airport manned by just two people in a town where nobody wants to go to - as you can probably tell from the description, it never really took off (it's the way I tell them!) Many celebs earned their stripes turning up in episodes, however, including one Peter Tork, although 'Cheers' and 'Frasier' stars were more normal (all three 'share' the same universe - presumably The Monkees is also in all three shows as Peter plays himself at an auction here. What a lost opportunity that is: Davy turning up as one of Diane’s boyfriends, Micky challenging Sam to a baseball competition, Peter as a barfly and Frasier psycho-analysing ‘Head’ with the help of Mike. Maybe it’s not too late?) Peter appears in an episode from season seven, near the end of the run, which was released on DVD in 2008 and buys up the Monkeemobile at an auction, betting against one of the main characters. Quote: 'I used to have a Monkees lunchbox!' 'Diddly squat - we got nothing from those things!'


66) JustUs Recording Sessions (Unused Documentary 1996)

I can't help thinking that the 1996 reunion was intended to be bigger and more permanent than it turned out to be. However a confusing television special and an underwhelming comeback album meant that there wasn't quite the drive for a new array of Monkee products into the new year. One of these spin-offs would surely have been a making of the 'Just Us' album, with lots of material shot of the band working together, although in the end it was never edited into a releasable show. The footage has since come to light however and while nothing that spectacular happens, it is nice to see footage of what will now sadly be the last album featuring all four Monkees. In total nearly two hours exists, including rehearsals and vocal overdubs  for the re-make of [117] 'Circle Sky', with highlights including Micky and Mike trying to perfect the harmonies on their new arrangement of the song, Davy busking a 'Las Vegas' off the cuff version of the [1] theme tune, Peter practicing his piano scales and a rejected mass Monkees chorus part that clearly doesn't work. In the control room Davy also plays through his new song [232] 'Oh What A Night'. And that’s it music-wise, with lots of staring into space and lunch breaks in between and across which The Monkees barely look at each other. Like a lot of 'real time' documentaries there's a good twenty minutes in between two hours of the band looking bored and not doing much, but it's still fascinating for true fans to see. Alas the sound appears to have gone awol for the last 'reel' but there's still a good ninety minutes around with sound.

67) This Morning (UK TV 1997)

More godawful UK daytime television - I feel so sorry for The Monkees coming down to the level where they have to put up with Richard and Judy (who even has the audacity to tell Peter off for being 'stroppy!') They are, of course, advertising JustUs, perched uncomfortably on what looks like a giant chess set, with even a grumpy looking Mike taking part. It’s not that illuminating and The Monkees don’t play ball, without their usual humour. Sample quote: 'Mike, why did you not want to get involved before?' 'I've been busy with other things'. The band all discuss quitting the band at various times, how well the TV show stands up (Richard and Judy's children saw it during research and assumed it was contemporary) and discuss the 'new trend for boy bands like Take That'. However this is far from the best interview out there and Mike particularly seems to be hating the experience. You can see the clock ticking down the end of the reunion in his eyes already...


68) 7th Heaven (Peter 1996 and 1999)

Eleven years this show ran. Eleven years based around nothing more than a fictional Vicar living in a fictional town with his fictional family and having fictional mishaps. The Monkees, remember, only lasted for two years. How did this happen?!? Perhaps to get revenge, Peter popped up in a cameo role in the show's 100th episode, performing with Shoe Suede Blues as the 'houseband' at a party and later turned up to say a few words in an episode from the following year. Both are 'blink and you'll miss them' cameos, but it's nice to see Peter play and sing again and he vastly improves the show’s usual theme tune.


69) The Secret Files Of The Spy Dogs (Micky 1996-1999)

With The Monkees now officially over again, Micky returned to television and to voiceover work. Spy Dogs was a cartoon that only ran a year despite involving some heavyweight names including Micky as Ralph, a Labrador/Dalmatian hybrid with purple patches and cute long ears whose the 'bossy' one of the group and keeps the other dogs in line (in other words, he acts more like Mike). A Monkee being a dog? Now I've seen everything! Actually this series was rather good - it's a real shame it didn't run for longer, a cross between 'Dangermouse' and 'All Dogs Go To Heaven'. Micky even gets to sing a song in character and ‘Morning Light’ isn’t bad actually – it sounds very like the Dolenz, ones, Boyce and Hart album! The edition we've included in our playlist as a sample is the pilot episode - in all twenty-two episodes were broadcast across two series.


70) LAAC Magazine (US TV Peter Tork 2002)

This hour long interview is most interesting for the shots of Peter's band Shoe Suede Blues in action at a blues club where they sound mightily impressive, especially Peter who could have used this as an audition tape for joining John Mayall's Bluesbreakers his playing is that authentic.


71) Spongebob Squarepants (Davy 2009)

Davy's last acting appearance was as himself (does that count as acting?) in the nautical but nice hit children's comedy that did for him in the 21st century what being on The Brady Bunch had done for him in the 1970s. Ever ready to laugh at himself, Davy plays his namesake complete with a locker which is dropping a lot of socks that need washing. You were squids in if you caught this unbilled cameo on the day of transmission! I'd never noticed before how scary Davy's manic laugh was...


72) The One Show (UK TV Micky, Davy and Peter 2011)

Reuniting for another tour, the three Monkees came to Britain hoping for a better reception than they got in 1997, but The One Show - a cross between 'Pebble Mill' and hitting your face into a wall repeatedly - isn't really the way to go (I've had some great online debates over the years about whether UK or US television is stranger - this programme has long been a thorn in my argument). Sample dialogue: 'When we heard The Monkees were coming on this show there was only one animal we could bring off our wildlife shelf - otters'. This, my American readers, is why Davy left for America. 'We start in Liverpool - and might well end up there the way this is going!' jokes Peter. Or is he joking? Micky gets the best anecdote, remembering being sent a note by Princess Margaret in 1967 asking them to keep the noise down! Davy also gives a rare talk about dodging the army draft back in 1967. Most interesting though is the discussion of the band’s pre-Monkees work with lots of old photographs being brought out, much to the hilarity of whichever Monkee wasn't involved. Less entertaining is a quiz about what words were banned from songs the BBC censored - music aficionado Peter is great, the other two...less so. Best gag of the night: Micky - 'I've been in the business so long some of my pre-natal work is coming out on ultra-sound!’


73) Loose Women (UK TV Micky, Davy and Peter 2011)

Sadly what turned out to be the final ever three-way Monkee chat was similarly frivolous and another of those modern UK TV programmes that will make viewers in future generations scratch their heads and ask what the hell we were thinking. Faced with their first all-female panel, Davy with his dyed hair flirts but looks retrospectively very ill indeed, while Peter is over-quiet and Micky is over-loud. The band are inevitably asked about the sixties. 'I'm told I had a good time!' jokes an amnesiac Micky for the first time.



74) Good Morning San Diego (Davy 2011)

Alas, this is the last TV interview Davy gave before he died. The good news is that it's one of the best on this list, with Davy on his own given more time and space to talk about things without the others cracking jokes or taking questions in turns (in fact the interviewer barely gets a word in edgeways). Pleasingly, Davy has rarely sounded happier about his lot in life, full of enthusiasm as he talks about his families, his horses and his future projects such as his ‘promotion’ to playing Fagin in 'Oliver' and a new musical called 'The Core' set in WW2 - it's just a tragedy how few of these exciting projects he was able to do in the end. The interview takes place just down the road from the 'Monkee beach' in San Diego and Davy is in nostalgic mood, reflecting on signing autographs for a young Stella McCartney as well as being keen to pass on his advice to new actors and musicians. 'Thanks for the invite - hope I can see you again' are Davy's last words on screen before the camera fades to white. And with that The Monkees as a unit on film are gone.


75) Remembering Davy Jones (Micky 2012)

A moving tribute from a clearly emotional Micky who was the first of The Monkees to speak about Davy's sad loss, with a few stories we don't often hear screened for BBC News television. His tales of remembering being paired with Davy in the early days because of their similar backgrounds are great and also the memories of sharing a house together while the series was being filmed but before it was on the air. Micky remembers Davy's joy at hearing [7] 'Clarksville' played on the radio for the first time and their shared experiences throughout their lives with children the same age. RIP Davy boy, you did good and so did Micky, just about keeping it together long enough to talk.



76) BBC Breakfast (Micky and Peter, UK TV 2015)

Micky and Peter plug The Monkees’ 50th anniversary tour and the blu-ray box set of the TV series by answering some particularly inane questions that get all the usual answers but is still fun to watch, not least because this is one of the more unusual Monkee pairings. More interesting is their banter between themselves as they discuss the famous ‘director’s chairs’ picture that so often appears on Monkees artwork (‘Micky, you look stunned’ ‘Maybe that’s because they spelt my name wrong!’), modern variations on The Monkees’ formula (‘Would you call Glee a pop band?’), Peter gets in a dig (‘We had the best session musicians and would come in and sing leads – or in my case lead!’), rejects the ideas that anyone would get on sage and pretend to be Mike or Davy, Micky plugs his sister Coco’s work, Micky gets to praise Peter (‘he’s a very smart guy, he knows French stuff!’), Peter discusses their friendship (‘Apart from the occasional murders we get along fine!’), the missing Mike (‘If he ever wants to come along we’d be glad to have him’) and Peter gets the best line (‘Rapport with each other? No, only one of us has it!’)

77) Good Morning America (‘I’m A Believer’ ‘She Makes Me Laugh’ Micky and Peter, US TV 2016)

Meanwhile back in the States the Micky ‘n’ Peter tour rolls on. A rather hoarse Micky takes to the front of the stage for ‘Believer’ in front of Peter finally getting to play those famous Neil Diamond chords piano chords before a rather flat rendition of the new ‘Good Times’ single. The presenters are clearly enjoying it, but this may well be the worst performance on this list sadly.

78) AXS TV (‘Daydream Believer’ Micky and Peter, US TV 2016)

A rather sweet clip as Micky and Peter groove along behind a giant screen of Davy (the famous clip that was always being shown in the second season of The Monkees’ TV series). Everyone is clearly moved as they perform – and that includes the other members of The Monkees’ band too – but it’s a rather odd experience as everyone is effectively watching television during it rather than ‘playing’. A sweet gesture though which worked rather better in concert.

79) She Makes Me Laugh (Music Video 2016)

My feelings about these music videos for the final two Monkees albums (at the time of writing anyway) have changed a lot since they first came out. The Monkees were, together and apart, pioneers of the music video and it seemed a shame to have them as mere cartoons with only the very basic extras added in a sound booth by Micky and Mike. However, I get it now: poor Peter was very ill and Davy was no longer around at all and everyone was aging, so why not have videos in the ‘spirit’ of The Monkee series rather than as everyone looks now. The cartoons also draw nicely on the three Monkee annuals – which are very overlooked parts of The Monkee story – and feel very in ‘character’ somehow as Davy dates girls, the band all sing in unison and we get the odd joke thrown in (this time, a last nostalgic glimpse of the Monkeemen). This first video of the set is the most tentative though, as if the powers-that-be aren’t yet that sure that this is gonna work. It’s also a bit odd to see ‘different’ Monkees with speech bubbles where Micky’s voice goes!

80) You Bring The Summer (Music Video 2016)

The Monkees cartoons have been updated for this groovy and very 1960s video, with the band  more accurately drawn and dressed in their ‘Head’ costumes alongside their more expected double-buttoned red shirts. Even though we know that isn’t Davy on the tambourine (the song was aped some five years after he died) it somehow gives you a thrill watching his cartoon self play with the others, as if the band really is back together at last. The moment of genius, though, is when The Monkees ‘morph’ through all the poses they ever took on their first four record sleeves before ‘dividing’ for their fifth.  

81) Terrifying (Music Video 2016)

A brief return to the ‘real’ Monkees now, as we see footage of the triohard at work on ‘Good Times’. Notably though there is never more than one Monkee in the room at one time, with Peter for once given the most screen time (hopefully his t-shirt of a rabbit screaming ‘run away!’ was a quirky wardrobe choice and not a hidden subliminal message about the making of the record!) Intercut with this we get all the expected extracts from the TV series ‘romps’, particularly the one where The Monkees run around the gallery of a TV studio shooting at each other.  

82) Unwrap You At Christmas (Music Video 2018)

More Monkee Annual style animation, this time with a festive theme. April Conquest takes a starring role in this one, marking her first appearance on anything Monkees since the ‘Get Out More Dirt’ episode a whole fifty years earlier, but not much else happens to be honest.

83) The Christmas Song (Music Video 2018)

The best or at least my favourite of all these animated videos, this has Micky and Mike swapping Monkee-style lines at the front of a Christmas-themed themepark ride while Davy and Peter sit at the back. As we go we see so many Monkee props and gags that just make a fan’s heart soar: some familiar looking carol singers, The Monkees’ pad with Christmas decorations, Mr Schneider, three Monkees eating ‘a la carte’ while Davy avoids a kiss from April (you wait for April Conquest fifty years and then she gets to be in two videos at once!), Santa’s little Monkee elves, even the clockwork Monkees from ’33 and a Third’. Perhaps sweetest of all is the very Monkee gag at the end when Micky claims not to have any presents again this year – then the lights go out and Mike has a very guitar-shaped present sitting on his lap whole trying to guess what it is!

84) Studio Ten (Micky and Mike, Australian TV 2019)

To end, a moving ten minute interview that marked the first appearance since Peter’s death four months earlier and Mike’s first promotional activities for the band in person in over twenty years. Among other things discussed Mike talks about teasing an Australian press interviewer with lies for an entire interview and how what he said is still out there as facts, such as outselling The Beatles and Rolling Stones combined! Micky then chimes in with the fact that he made up that Charlie Manson had once auditioned for the group – something that’s been taken as fact by many music books! Mike then talks about his mum’s invention of Tippex (disagreeing with Micky how it was invented along the way) and Micky talks about being in a soft-ball team with Alice Cooper! Or are all these new facts lies too and they were having fun with us?!? The parts about Peter are moving, even though they don’t start off that way. Mike says that he never had a civil word to say to Peter in all their years together, but that he still felt the loss so badly he broke down in tears when he heard the news that he’d died. Micky, meanwhile, says that all the Monkees were his ‘brothers’. A typically quirky end to the Monkees list, moving but in a most unexpected way.

85) Commercial Breaks: Sugar Pops/Kellogg's/Yardley's Black Label/Kool Aid/Nerf-Balls/Safeway/Pizza Hut

A quick break for you now with a run-down of all four Monkees sponsors down the years (including some episode re-runs) along with two specially filmed advertisements from the band's reunion years. Firstly, it's a fifteen-year-old Micky in between jobs running away with the circus and running away with a rock and roll group advertising The Monkees' future sponsor cereal rivals 'Sugar Pops'. Micky is sweet - but not as sweet as the cereal! 'They taste just right!' is Micky's only line, behind an insufferable adult version of a hip 1950s rock song, with his flow of curly locks held in place by a baseball cap. Micky also shoots the camera with his fingers and adds the catchphrase 'bang bang!' (because 'they're shot with sugar through and through, see?')

Most hilarious are the Kellogg's adverts put together for the first series of the Monkees TV show and all of which were specially filmed (with one jingle later released on 'Missing Links Three') - there are a whole six minutes' worth in total (many of which were included in the 'season one' box set). One involves a sick Peter being revived by Rice Krispies during an operation ('Does this mean he'll be able to play the bass again?’ ‘That's weird - he never could before!') Next is a marathon narrated by Micky - poor Peter and Davy didn't eat Kellogg's cereal this morning so they lose to Mike, who has. Thirdly Peter fancies a midnight snack and reaches for the Rice Krispies without knowing they were alarmed - 'Take him to the cooler!' demands Mike as the 'heavy'. 'What for?' asks policeman Dolenz. 'For some milk!' he replies. Fourthly Micky conducts a survey between Rice Krispies and a rival brand - it appears to have gone wrong, with Davy and Peter both preferring 'Brand X' but stagehand Mike has put the 'wrong' cereals in the bowl!  Fifthly The Monkees hastily put up a table in the middle of the desert so they can eat Kellogg's Rice Krispies next to the Monkeemobile (they do come on sudden these cereal hunger pangs you know). Mike pours in so much sugar I'm surprised he has any teeth left! Alas the Monkeemobile is still in gear and trundles along in reverse at the back of shot, not that the snacking Monkees care given their delicious breakfasts. Sixthly The Monkees have just woken up and are acting like sleepy zombies - Peter even has his eye-mask still on! What a good thing they have some Rice Krispies in the cupboard to wake them up…

'Yardley Black Label' get even more inventive when they sponsor the show. Using a specially recorded jingle featuring Davy and (I think) Boyce and Hart that runs 'some guys have it - some guys never will', Mike parachutes into a field of corn (as you do). A girl rushes towards him but she's distracted by the sight of Davy, his parachute a mess, as his Yardley's Black Label proves to be hypnotic enough to lure her in. This advert was also featured in the 'season one' DVD.

Less well regarded but every bit as inventive are some adverts three Monkees (without Peter) put together for the 1969 show re-runs. This time the sponsors are Nerf-Balls, a foam rubber ball of the sort that used to be just the right size to get stuck in the guttering when you're trying to play tennis at the back of the house (this is a true story folks!) Micky suggests playing ball, Davy asks 'what? In the house????' (isn't it odd The Monkees' new pad has no breakable furniture by the way? Plus they've obviously upgraded since their old place - was it Peter holding them back?) and all three have fun throwing balls at each other (often with a mischievous glint in each Monkee's eye!) Micky nearly gets knocked out making his last speech while a sleepy Mike is nearly buried in the last scene. His deadpan line 'A nerf's enerf' says it all.

Next up are two adverts for Kool-Aid, sponsors of The Monkees re-runs in 1969 ('for fun that never ends...never ends...never ends...never ends...') The Monkees (‘…never ends! Say this jingle is catchy!) but minus Peter again are out in the sticks and feeling bored - until they hit on the idea of making some kool-aid and suddenly everyone comes running towards them from miles around! Immediately there's a swinging party happening (why does this never happen to me?) and The Monkees are all riding dodgems - shots from this advert will make it onto the back cover of the 'Changes' LP. There was even a sequel that teamed The Monkees up with Bugs Bunny (that other well known soft-drinker) who appears to the band in a very Head-looking desert (presumably as a mirage) and asks 'Erm, what's up Davy?' One drink later and the band are in tuxedos and the desert has turned into party paradise with hordes of screaming kids. Quick, get rid of that drink, bring back the peace and quiet! Astonishingly the last job Mike ever did as a Monkee was to dress up to pour out a drink without a word - a sad end to his years with the band. ‘…Never ends!’

Now we're on to the reunion years, when a Mike-less Monkees advertise UK premier supermarket Safeways - specifically a six-week food drive so shoppers can donate spare items to food banks. This is, it's worth pointing out, before the unheralded scandals of recent years where supermarkets put out special places to put these items - which then shockingly get out back on the shelf the minute you've gone home! The offer is in return you get $2 off a record, which was quite a bit in those days. Just make sure it's a Monkees one!

Finally, one of the funniest thirty second experiences of my life (seriously - I don't get out much) featuring Ringo promising to put his old group back together again ('I know the fans would dig it - I'd do it in a second!') Ringo has clearly done a lot of travelling to make this advert with several locations shown off before Ringo cries 'the time has come!' and the three other lads walk into the room. Only it's the 'wrong lads', as Ringo puts it, and the Monkees theme starts playing instead as everybody eats pizzas from Pizza Hut. Trippy.

86) Silent Movies: Micky's in 1967, Chip Douglas' in 1968 and tour footage 1969

Finally, I'm not sure where I stand on including home movie footage into these articles - they were after all not meant for broadcast so by and large we ignore them. The Monkees, however, inspired many a fan with a camera to greatness and there is some terrific stuff out there (including one Micky Dolenz didn't know about till he found my tweeted playlist on twitter!) First up, three silent minutes of The Monkees filming debut episode 'The Royal Flush', presumably by one of the extras down at the beach in that episode. It mainly concerns the shooting of the very opening scene where Princes Betina of Harmonica nearly drowns when her yellow lilo explodes - luckily Davy leaps to the rescue! Next director Jim Frawley talks to Davy about...something and his costume is brushed for stray bits of sand. A momentous day in Monkee history captured forever!
Next a home video by Micky titled 'Junkyard Movie' and dated 1967 - you wonder how he ever found the time that year what with four albums, a tour and a TV series to make! Micky yawns and gets out a car before peering at the camera through a car window, doing a bit of chewing and running away. Not the most enlightening home movie of all time maybe but, hey, 'Magical Mystery Tour' lasted an hour with less going on than this.
To follow, eight minutes of pure primal Monkees on stage during their first ever tour. Davy takes his jacket off and hurls it into the audience (is he singing 'Gonna Build A Mountain?' It's kinda hard to tell without sound). Next is Micky in a flash white Vegas suit as he does his 'James Brown Dolenz' routine to what surely must be 'I Gotta Woman'. A bobble-hatted sun-glass wearing Mike Nesmith is on afterwards for what presumably is 'You can't Judge A Book'. Finally all four Monkees groove out to what looks like [38] 'Steppin' Stone' to me and a particularly energetic rendition at that!
Meanwhile, away from the road, Monkee producer Chip Douglas has a camera too and shoots two minutes of Micky chatting to songwriter Harry Nilsson (perhaps to discuss their cover of his song [57] 'Cuddly Toy' or, more likely, a recording session the pair did together in 1972). The clip starts off in a recording studio and ends up in what looks like New York City.
Next some silent newsreel footage of the band in Australia in 1968 (overdubbed for youtube with a radio interview the band did over there) getting off a plane and performing on stage. The end features Davy cuddling a young fan whose as pleased as punch to meet her hero!
Moving on, we've ended up in Salt Lake City in mid 1968 for a concert the band are performing for their movie 'Head' - the bit where the band chant 'war!' and the band revert back to mannequins. To say 'thankyou' the band performed a short set for the crowd of extras and sensibly one of them decided to take along her movie camera (the sound was made available on the 'deluxe' edition of 'Head' if you want to know what it sounds like; perhaps one day a fan will piece both back together?) The Monkees are seen in their dressing rooms (so this was shot by somebody with a lot of privileged access) before exploding onto the stage (it looks like they really are playing [117] 'Circle Sky' from the 'beat', though not the take used in the film). It's definitely [3] 'I Wanna Be Free' the band move on to play next (Davy is enunciating most beautifully for the camera!)
And finally, another Chip Douglas home movie, this time spending the afternoon with Davy sometimes in the 1970s (1975?) My guess is that's his first daughter Talia Elizabeth having the birthday party in the clip (she's have been seven years oldish at the time) and her sister Sarah Lee (then aged around four) he can be seen playing with; she has her dad's beaming smile. Both girls clearly know Chip well and aren't at all surprised to see him paying a visit.


Other Monkees related articles on this site you might be interested in reading:

'Pool It!' (1986) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-monkees-pool-it-1986-album-review.html
'Only Shades Of Grey' : The Monkees In Relation To Postmodernism (University Dissertation) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2013/09/university-dissertation-monkees-in.html