The Last Monkee

At first there were four. Now there is one.

The Monkees, arguably the cheesiest result of Beatlemania, have lost another member. Michael Nesmith passed away today. Peter Tork died in 2019 and Davey Jones died in 2012 (no word on whether Marcia Brady ever washed that hand). Micky Dolenz is the only one left.

Sure, they were ridiculous and the show was gooey cheese and all, but I’ll always give them credit for refusing to be posers and forcing the show to let them play their own instruments on their records as well as writing their own songs. You’re never going to catch me listening to their stuff (though I am curious about their movie, Head… I mean… was it as bad as people say it was? Was it so bad it was good? Someday…), but I do still wonder why Nesmith, a Texan, always wore a winter hat. He couldn’t have been cold… was it a hair loss thing? I bet that was it. Am I curious enough to actually look for an actual answer to this age old question? Not even a little bit.

I know this post sounds like I am mocking the guy, but I am not. He was the real deal. If nothing else, I will always tip my (winter) hat to him for writing a song that showed up on the second (and best) Paul Butterfield Blues Band record. That alone legitimizes everything he did. (This version pre-dates the Monkees version by about a year)

Rest in peace, Michael Nesmith.