New @ MPL: Daydream Believer

Friday, March 2, 2012

Daydream Believer

You know the song. And, if you're anything like me, you've had it stuck in your head since Wednesday.

When I found out that Davy Jones had died, I thought of Dave Barry's column on the death of Richard Berry (the man who wrote the song "Louis, Louis" -- one of Barry's all-time favorite songs). Barry wrote that finding out about Richard Berry made him realize that he'd "never get to thank somebody for something." As a relatively recently-converted fan of the Monkees, I'm pretty sure I know what Barry meant.

Davy Jones was born on December 30, 1945, in Manchester, England. His acting career began with a role on Coronation Street (a popular British soap opera) when Jones was just eleven. His teen years were spent not on the screen or stage but training to be a jockey -- a passion he would soon abandon professionally but would continue to pursue as a hobby throughout his life. In his later teen years he'd return to the theater, earning a Tony nomination for his portrayal of the Artful Dodger in a Broadway production of the musical Oliver!

But of course, it was his appearance in a new television series -- alongside Michael Nesmith, Peter Tork, and Micky Dolenz -- that would earn Jones everlasting fame. A comedy about a fictional rock band meant to emulate the Beatles, The Monkees debuted in September 1966 -- earning two Emmy awards, fantastic ratings, and a real musical career for its stars.

The Monkees released their first number one hits with a version of Neil Diamond's "I'm a Believer" and the song "Last Train to Clarksville." Other successes soon followed, including "Little Bit Me, Little Bit You," "Pleasant Valley Sunday" -- and "Daydream Believer" (my personal favorite), for which Jones performed lead vocals.

After the show -- and the band -- split up, Jones continued singing, releasing a solo album in 1971. He also continued acting, appearing memorably in an episode of The Brady Bunch as the teenage heartthrob dream date of Marsha Brady for her high school prom.

The Monkees would enjoy a resurgence of popularity in the 80s, when reruns of their television show on MTV brought renewed interest to the band. The Monkees (sometimes minus Nesmith, sometimes not) would come back together to release new albums and tour. Jones would continue to act in plays and make cameo appearances in television shows, release albums and tour solo, and even train and ride racehorses (he won his first race in England in 1996, riding his horse, Digpast). Plans were being made for another Monkees reunion tour when Jones passed away on February 29 at the age of 66.

Despite being a child of the 80s (and having an undying love for Bon Jovi), most of the music I listened to when I was growing up was the music my parents listened to: the Golden Oldies. (I knew all the words to "Chantilly Lace" and "American Pie" but couldn't have named more than one or two titles from the New Kids on the Block's discography.)

So I always knew, and enjoyed, songs like "I'm a Believer" and "Last Train to Clarksville," sure. But it wasn't until college -- when a pal of mine introduced me to lesser-known songs like "Daily Nightly" and "Auntie’s Municipal Court" (not to mention Michael Nesmith's solo work) -- that I began to really "get" the appeal of the Monkee's music. I've been a big fan ever since.

The Monkees, particularly in their early years, often received some flak for being a "gimmick," an artificial band put together for a television show who just got lucky. But when you listen to their albums, it's not hard to see the real reason why the band got so popular and kept coming back: because the music's fun, funny, and good.

Apparently Davy Jones and Peter Tork were discussing the possibility of another concert tour when Jones passed away. I would have loved a chance to see them on tour, and could kick myself for not making an effort to see one of their previous concerts. It would have been wonderful to see them live -- particular Davy himself, who was known for being good-natured and quick-witted on the stage and with his fans.

I never got the chance before, so I'll say it now: thanks for the music, Mr. Jones.