Living without him

Another one of those little nails in the heart. 

Scrolling through my newsfeed early this morning, I fell across the news of the death of Michael Nesmith. Yes, he will be best remembered for how he got famous, being one of the Monkees, rather nastily labelled as the "Pre-fab Four" by critics at the time. 

However, he was my favourite Monkee, slightly removed from frenetic madness, with his wry wit, and dry delivery. 

Being connected with what was an Americanized attempt to capitalize on the looniness of the Beatles in A Hard Day's Night, it's easy to forget that he was a songwriter himself. 

His most famous song was covered and forever claimed by Linda Ronstadt, when she was the lead singer for a group called The Stone Poneys. Her version is a pop classic, soaring and passionate. 

 Nesmith's version of his own ditty is far more country and down-to-earth, although he always gave credit to Ronstadt for her interpretation. He's also credited with being a pioneer of the concept of the music video. I'm particularly charmed by this song, part of a summer replacement show entitled Television Parts in the mid-1980s. With Christmas getting so close, I can't resist a little bit of Monkee magic, their rendition of "Riu riu chiu". Nesmith is the guy in the tie.

Eternal Leap

February. The shortest month that still manages to be too long. And this year it's a day longer. The media is all about "leap birthdays" and how someone who was born on February 29th, say, in 1968, is only ten today -- ha-ha.

So, in 2016, will Davy Jones only have been dead one year?

Everyone seems to be playing "Daydream Believer" today, and arguing whether the Monkees were real musicians. Well, they could play their own instruments (eventually), and Mike Nesmith wrote some damn fine songs, including one of my favourite Monkees ditties, "The Girl That I Knew Somewhere". Davy Jones certainly was an appealing singer in those long-ago days before Auto-Tune, and actually got the idea for being a pop star when he was The Artful Dodger in the Broadway cast of Oliver. The cast appeared on the Ed Sullivan show the same night the Beatles turned up.

I came across this gem amongst the online mourning, a collaboration with the illustrator and songwriter Sandra Boyton, whose greeting cards have always been among those I'm least embarrassed to send: