Everyone knows Michael Nesmith as the dry, sarcastic, hat-wearing member of 60s ‘boy band’ the Monkees. Of course that’s part of his story, but only one part, and the rest seems to be widely overlooked. I can’t say why, except that the post-Monkees prejudice is widespread and long-lasting, and that most of music history chooses to see them as nothing other than – and only capable of being – television puppets. Barely anybody knows that, among other things, Michael Nesmith was a huge part of what made the Monkees a genuinely great pop band, that he helped to develop areas of popular culture that we can’t imagine being without today, and that he was a pioneer of the music we now call country-rock.
Born in Texas to the (eventual) inventor of Liquid Paper, Nesmith spent some time in the Air Force before pursuing his interest in music. Originally a singer, he picked up the guitar in his 20s and started his career as a songwriter, turning the poetry he’d been writing since high school into lyrics. Having moved to Los Angeles, Nesmith recorded a handful of singles between 1963 and 1966 with limited release: some under the name Michael Blessing (picked out of a phone book when his label said ‘Nesmith’ wouldn’t do, according to the interview in the video linked below) and one as Mike and Tony (though it doesn’t seem that Tony actually existed, and it’s possible that Nesmith had nothing to do with that song at all, depending on which story is true).
After a few recordings with various musicians on various labels, Nesmith teamed up with Colpix Records (also home to future co-Monkee Davy Jones) in 1965 to release “The New Recruit” / “A Journey With Michael Blessing”. The b-side is an instrumental track, both country and surfer at the same time; the a-side is a playful and deeply sarcastic portrait of an army newbie in a jangly folk style somewhat reminiscent of the sound the Byrds were just starting to popularize (with their first single, “Mr. Tambourine Man”, earlier that year). This is an early indication of the type of music that Nesmith would take with him to the Monkees.
Michael Nesmith (as Michael Blessing) – The New Recruit
In 1965, out of work and needing a job, Nesmith auditioned for a new TV series – the only member of the Monkees to have learned about the show from the carefully crafted ad looking for “4 insane boys”. Auditions took place in the autumn of 1965 (see his screen test footage as shown in one of the early Monkees episodes here, about 2:35 into the video); unsuccessful auditioners included Harry Nilsson and, famously, Stephen Stills (though not Charles Manson as has been a long-time urban legend). Although most people still believe that the Monkees were musical nothings, they were all chosen – in part, at least – for their experience within the entertainment industry. Dolenz had been a child television star, Tork was already part of the rising folk music scene, and Jones and Nesmith were both recording for Colpix (which was discontinued in 1966 and replaced by Colgems Records, home to the Monkees’ releases).
If the show’s producers had hoped for a group of pretty boys that would do as they were told, they were destined to be disappointed. Although several hit-makers were hired to write the Monkees’ songs, the group almost immediately started pushing to have, at the very least, some say in the music attributed to them, and hoped to be ‘allowed’ to write and play their own songs – with Nesmith at the head of these battles. His songwriting skills must have made a good enough argument for his case, because he did win a partial victory relatively quickly, contributing two songs apiece to the first two Monkees albums. The first, “Papa Gene’s Blues”, sets the tone for all of Nesmith’s Monkees compositions: a country-flavored pop song that gave the Monkees a unique touch they might never have had if left to the show’s producers.
The Monkees – Papa Gene’s Blues
Of course the other Monkees all contributed to what made them a great pop band, but it’s my opinion that Nesmith was by far the best songwriter involved with the group. (In fact, it was the discovery that all of my favorite Monkees tracks were Nesmith songs that led me to this research project.) Additionally, these songs gave Nesmith his few chances to show off his incredibly strong yet sadly under-appreciated singing voice (especially on “Sweet Young Thing” from The Monkees, co-written with song-writing team Gerry Goffin and Carole King). “Mary, Mary” (from More Of The Monkees, sung by Dolenz) may be his song with the widest appeal, having been recorded by the Paul Butterfield Blues Band around the same time and, much later, re-worked into a hip-hop classic by Run-D.M.C.
The Monkees – Mary, Mary
In 1967, after the release of their first two albums and a tour (of their own instigation and with Jimi Hendrix as their chosen support act) proving that they could in fact play their own instruments, the situation between the Monkees and the bosses came to a head. While away on tour, the band discovered that their second album, More Of The Monkees, had been rush-released without their knowledge, nor their input on the song choice or sleeve artwork. The band confronted the show’s producers with their displeasure of their lack of involvement in their own music. This culminated in, so the legend goes, Nesmith putting forward an ultimatum – a change had to be made or he would walk – and punching a hole in a wall to emphasize his point. The band was given more creative input, though still not total control, and Don Kirshner – the band’s main opponent and musical supervisor for the show – was fired. With their new freedom, the band released Headquarters and with it, my very favorite Monkees song, “You Just May Be The One”.
The Monkees – You Just May Be The One
During the filming of The Monkees‘ second season, the band pushed to have the show’s format changed for the following season. Although watching the series now shows it to be quite clever and innovative (using quirky stylistic devises that shows like Arrested Development are acclaimed for), the group was sick of filming the same silly plotlines over and over. They wanted the show to feature performances by musicians they admired and bring them to a new audience. This idea was tested in the last few episodes of Season 2 (see Tim Buckley’s performance here; watch Nesmith and Frank Zappa conduct a very odd interview with each other here), but the bosses just wouldn’t allow a major format change and the Monkees refused to do another season of the same episodes they’d already made. Rather than allowing the show to grow slightly more adult, or at least reach a compromise, the network cancelled The Monkees after just two seasons. This was, essentially, when the band went out on their own and the beginning of the end.
The TV show off the air, the band released their movie, Head (famously co-written by Jack Nicholson). Head is now a cult favorite, but was a critical and financial disaster at the time. And without the television studio’s songwriters backing them up, compounded by the members’ drastically different musical interests, the quality of their music took a downturn. The most notable Nesmith song of this period, before he bought out his own contract in 1970 (Peter Tork had already left the previous year), is “Listen To The Band”, even more country than his previous contributions and clearly showing which direction he would head next.
As The Monkees petered out, Nesmith wasted no time in starting up his solo career. He had, in fact, already done some work outside the Monkees. In 1967, the Stone Poneys recorded his “Different Drum”, which went to #13 on the Billboard Hot 100 and brought Linda Ronstadt national attention. Legend has it that “Different Drum” was originally submitted as a potential Monkees song but rejected because it had ‘no hook’; it has since been recorded by countless artists, including Nesmith himself 5 years later. He had also released a solo album, The Wichita Train Whistle Sings, a collection of orchestral re-recordings of Monkees songs. Featuring up to 50 musicians, this album is definitely an oddity, and sticks out like a sore thumb against the rest of Nesmith’s releases. However, in keeping with the rest of his career, it is at least an interesting experiment – both a wild pop cacophony and a bit of a mess.
1970 saw Nesmith join forces with old recording friend John London and legendary steel guitarist Orville “Red” Rhodes to form the First National Band, who would go on to release three albums in two years. The first, Magnetic South, is really quite an achievement. It’s shocking to think that people could’ve heard this album and still hung on to the perception of Nesmith as a talentless Monkee. The opening trio of “Calico Girlfriend”, “Nine Times Blue”, and “Little Red Rider” – and the way they blend seamlessly from one to the next – is some of the finest country-rock (though, like contemporary Gram Parsons, Nesmith wasn’t fond of the ‘country-rock’ label) I’ve had the pleasure of listening to.
The First National Band – Little Red Rider
“Little Red Rider” (previously recorded by the Monkees but not officially released) was the First National Band’s first single, and my very favorite Nesmith track, but failed to chart. However, the album’s second single, “Joanne” – a lovely country ballad – did pretty well for the band, making it to #21 in the the Billboard Hot 100 and #6 in the Billboard Adult Contemporary charts. Unfortunately, the First National Band was on tour in England at the time and thus weren’t able to capitalize on this unexpected success. By the time they returned to the States, the moment had passed and they went back to relative obscurity.
Loose Salute, the First National Band’s second album, was released less than six months after Magnetic South and gave them another minor hit with “Silver Moon”. In my opinion, this record is most notable for their re-working of “Listen To The Band”. I’ve liked this song since I was too young to know what country was, and this version is even better than the original. (Do not adjust your volume: the fade-in is much longer than you’d expect.)
The First National Band – Listen To The Band
Loose Salute was followed by Nevada Fighter (half Nesmith compositions, half covers), recorded as the First National Band was falling apart and finished off with other musicians. Nevada Fighter’s highlights are definitely the funky “Grand Ennui” and the lovely “Propinquity (I’ve Just Begun Care)” (also previously recorded by the Monkees). After the demise of the First National Band, Nesmith joined up with members of Elvis’ stage band to form the Second National Band. They released Tantamount To Treason Vol. 1 less than a year after Nevada Fighter (1972). Tantamount… is a bit of a dip in quality and, for whatever reason (information on them is scarce), The Second National Band didn’t last beyond the one album. It didn’t slow Nesmith down though, and he overshadowed even his best work with what came next.
Again, Nesmith picked up and moved on to a new project, an acoustic album featuring just himself and Red Rhodes, released in August, 1972. And The Hits Just Keep On Comin’ is, in a word, stunning. It being acoustic and lacking drums or bass does not in any way make this album soft, meek, or even slow. On the contrary, it has an incredible strength rarely found on record. As impressive as his previous releases are, this is clearly the high-point of Nesmith’s career. Nowhere else is his songwriting this strong, his voice so very perfect, the music so moving. In 1974, ZigZag Magazine’s John Tobler wrote about And The Hits… : “This is unbelievably brilliant, and a record I would protect with my life to prevent it leaving my possession. The number of levels on which it succeeds astonish me …” I couldn’t possibly agree more. If you are curious enough to check out even one of the albums mentioned here, make sure it is this one.
Michael Nesmith – Different Drum
There are more albums, of course, released as recently as 2006. As with everything he does, Nesmith has never been afraid to try new things and experiment with ideas others might toss aside. Two albums (released 19 years apart but considered companions to each other, with a third rumored to be on the way) were packaged with Nesmith-penned novellas, the music intended to be the soundtrack to the text. Another is a seemingly space-inspired album of electronic experimentation. Of course, there are albums of the country music we might expect, and some that are more rock-oriented. Sometimes these experiments work and sometimes they don’t, but Nesmith’s insistence on following his own path is always an inspiration.
In fact, it is not only music that makes Nesmith such an interesting personality. As someone who seems to be genuinely fascinated by, and supportive of, technological advances, he has been involved in the development of aspects of the entertainment industry that we now take for granted. The film accompanying his “Rio” single (1977) was included on a video release called Elephant Parts, which also included comedy skits and other music videos, and won the very first Grammy for Video of the Year in 1981. The “Rio” video also eventually led to his creation of Pop Clips for children’s network Nickelodeon. Pop Clips was basically MTV before it existed, and eventually became MTV. (Though, there seems to be some controversy over who actually ‘invented’ MTV itself and how much credit should be given to Nesmith for the idea. In any case, it can’t be denied that, at the very least, his idea predicted the popularity of music videos.)
After the video release of Elephant Parts, Nesmith’s company Pacific Arts Video became a pioneer in the distribution of home videos, releasing, among other things, television series on video – the precursor to today’s enormous TV on DVD industry. He has also fully embraced the digital age, creating Videoranch, a 3D virtual hang-out that hosts musical performances, and all of his music has been re-released through the same website in MP3 format.
As if all of this wasn’t quite enough, Nesmith has written a novel (The Long Sandy Hair Of Neftoon Zamora) and has another in progress, written and produced music for others (such as Lynn Anderson’s 1975 hit, “I’ve Never Loved Anyone More”), produced films (including 1984 cult favorite Repo Man), and hosts a yearly meeting of The Council On Ideas in order to find answers to the world’s most pressing problems (learn more about The Council On Ideas in this 2000 Wired article).
With all of these activities and innovations, in addition to his impressive musical career, how is it possible that so many people are unable to see him as anything other than a Monkee? (And even then, not appreciate the Monkees for what they were able to be within their particular situation?) It’s not as if Nesmith’s solo albums have been denounced by critics – in fact, the opposite is true. Rolling Stone called The First National Band’s three albums “the greatest music never heard”; Charles Shaar Murray called those same albums “certified good listening” (Creem, 1972). Even when reviews voiced criticisms of Nesmith’s albums (usually in relation to his later releases), they generally show a respect for him as a musician rather than mocking his efforts as a former Monkee (which might be what you’d expect). As for the average listener’s opinion, a quick Google search will provide countless glowing mentions of Nesmith’s music and achievements.
And with artists like Conor Oberst, Ryan Adams, Wilco and so many others making country-rock / alt-country more and more popular, especially with the type of listener likely to dig into the roots of what we listen to now, it’s a wonder that more people haven’t discovered Michael Nesmith and his remarkable musical past. He surely deserves a place in music history, right alongside bands like the International Submarine Band, as one of the founding fathers of country-rock. As Bill Holdship wrote in Creem in 1986, “It’s a shame [Nesmith] never got his just due because he was a Monkee.”
(If you’d like to hear more, most albums mentioned here are available on iTunes and Nesmith’s entire back catalog is available at Videoranch.)
Filed under: 100b's School Of Learnin', Music | Tagged: Country, Michael Nesmith, Pop, The Monkees
