Finding the origin of The Monkees' classic televison series may be an endless search. The list of diverse sources from which the show's irreverent sensibility, fierce visual energy, and broad comedic style emanated is limitless. On the other hand, the source of The Monkees' music must surely lie with just two people -- Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart. What started out in 1965 as a simple request for these staff writers to come up with three songs for a pilot show would result in one of the most enduring and memorable catalogs in '60s pop. However, before there was a record, before there was even a Mike, Davy, Micky, or Peter, there was a theme song.
The unforgettable "(Theme From) The Monkees" is a remarkable composition in that it sums up the essence of the Monkees and their show, before there was a show. Hart remembers the songwriting duo had very little briefing for the tune: "The producers didn't give us any lyrical direction or philosophy or anything. We knew that this was going to be the 'American Beatles' visually, and we assumed it made the most sense to do a Beatles-influenced sound -- not a rip-off. Actually, the Monkees theme was influenced by a Dave Clark Five song called 'Catch Us If You Can.' That's where we got the finger-snapping and 'Here we come' opener. Tommy and I write that while we were walking down the street on Woodrow Wilson Drive. We were going to the park when we got that walking beat, and we decided that it was a great rhythm to write a song to.
"We cut three songs for the pilot as demos: '(Theme From) The Monkees,' 'Let's Dance On' -- because they needed a dance scene -- and 'I Wanna Be Free,' which was written sometime earlier, for the walk on the beach. The pilot show was sold with Tommy and me singing in the songs."
Despite these early efforts, Boyce & Hart were not employed to handle the music production when sessions for The Monkees' first album oficially got under way. Publishing kingpin Don Kirshner, head of Screen Gems music, was the show's music coordinator, and Kirshner was not about to let Boyce & Hart (thus far untried as record producers) handle what looked like his biggest commodity since Gidget. "Tommy and I had been working for about a year or more, doing the demos for the pilot and getting everything together," Hart recalls. "But once the show was sold, that's when everyone started getting serious, and Donnie was out here on the next plane with a stack of demos under his arm." Shortly after Kirshner's arrival, hit producer Snuff Garrett (Gary Lewis And The Playboys) was signed by Kirshner to an exclusive contract that stipulated that Garrett would produce every recording made by The Monkees.
At 7:00 p.m. on June 10, 1966, Snuff Garrett began his first -- and last -- Monkees recording session. With a stellar backing group composed of Sonny Curtis (guitar), Hal Blaine (drums), Larry Knetchel (piano and organ), Ray Pohlman (eight-string bass), and Glen Campbell and James Burton (both 12-string electric guitar), Garrett and arranger Leon Russell attempted to cut Gerry Goffin & Carole King's "Take A Giant Step." The instrumental tracking went fine, but when Garrett encountered The Monkees themselves, things took a different turn. Garrett remembers: "I chose Davy as the lead singer, which didn't sit well with the other three guys. Basically, Don Kirshner ended up buying me out of my contract. I think that was the most money I've ever made in a single day!" Garrett's takes of "Take A Giant Step" and "Let's Dance On" (cut later the same night) are now sadly lost, and could not be included on this reissue.
This studio skirmish with Garrett foreshadowed power struggles that would dog the Monkees camp throughout the '60s. As the show's producers would soon learn, The Monkees as individuals would always be the X factor in the corporate machinations and formulas for success. Casting four diverse personalities in roles as themselves would provide both the group's immense success and the executive's endless frustration with The Monkees, who indignantly refused to be controlled as puppets.
Michael Nesmith was perhaps the most outspoken of the newly cast combo, and he demanded musical input on the show right from the start. In fact, the first Monkees session after Garrett's dismissal was produced solely by Nesmith on June 25, 1966. On this day he cut the originally unissued "All The King's Horses" (later available on Rhino's Missing Links, Vol. 2), "The Kind Of Girl I Could Love" (which appeared on The Monkees' second album), and his one concession to Don Kirshner's Screen Gems stable, Goffin & King's "I Don't Think You Know Me." The song, included here in a previously unissued alternate version, provided the model for Nesmith's own "You Just May Be The One," and would later be recut during the More Of The Monkees sessions in late 1966.
With less than two months to go before the show's television debut, Boyce & Hart were finally given the green light to enter RCA Victor Studios in Hollywood and record tracks for the group's debut album. On July 5, 1966, Tommy and Bobby (accompanied by the more seasoned Jack Keller) produced remakes of the pilot's "(Theme From) The Monkees" (this time in a full-length version) and "Let's Dance On," as well as the newly penned "This Just Doesn't Seem To Be My Day." As with the pilot demos, the recordings made on this day set the standard for what the classic Monkees sound would be -- then and forever. Although written off initially by their critics as ersatz Beatles, the sound of The Monkees was actually closer in flavor to folk rock, with Nesmith's compositions adding a dash of country texture.
In light of this, it is surprising to find that Bobby Hart's Candy Store Prophets (who were utilized on all of Boyce & Hart's Monkees recordings) did not normally play this type of music. "In the clubs we were more bluesy," says Hart. "The sound was Hammond organ, and this kind of swamp guitar, plus a real heavy blues bass and drums. Louie Shelton and Wayne Erwin were not in the Candy Store Prophets, Gerry McGee was the guitar player. He was a real riverbank, Louisiana, swamp-guitar kind of player -- a genius at it. There were late-night sets in Vegas when we were backing Teddy Randazzo where he would do these 20-minute John Lee Hooker grooves that would just have people mesmerized."
One listen to the first album's cheesy Vox Continental organ break on "Let's Dance On" or the heavy tremooled guitar on "(Theme From) The Monkees" would tell most listeners that John Lee Hooker was not a part of the early Monkees' musical vocabulary. "We used used the Vox organ because Screen Gems made a deal with Vox, and there was all this equipment just standing there," Hart recalls. "As for the guitar, we wanted to represent the new sounds of bands like Arthur Lee & Love and The Doors, so we got Wayne Erwin to play guitar along with Louie Shelton."
As individuals, The Monkees were concerned about their musical involvement amidst all of this studio activity. It is now common knowledge that they did not participate in the backing tracks for the songs Boyce & Hart produced for the first album. The Monkees were, however, present (in varying combinations) when Nesmith called his next session at RCA Studios on July 7, 1966. Surprisingly, Nesmith and arranger Don Peake kicked off the proceedings with a rocking unreleased version of Boyce & Hart's "Gonna Buy Me A Dog," though no finished takes were made. Next up, Nesmith ushered Davy Jones into the studio to sing Goffin & King's moody "So Goes Love," which Jones cut live with a full band, Sinatra style (a later version of this track appears on Rhino's Missing Links). And finally, after Nesmith implored the musicians to "get even more Latin than that," his triumphant "Papa Gene's Blues" was recorded with Peter Tork sitting in on acoustic guitar.
"Papa Gene's Blues" (originally titled "Brand X") was Nesmith's first composition destined for release on a Monkees album, and this recording displays an interesting trait that Davy Jones points out: "Mike Nesmith had a problem for the first year and a half. If you listen to his singing, it's very nasal, very throaty. That's because during the course of the Monkees' first year he had his tonsils out. After he had them out, his vocal presentation changed, and that's why his later stuff had a different quality to it." Like many of Nesmith's Monkees recordings, his voice was double-tracked with Micky's on "Papa Gene's Blues" to create a harmony effect. "Mike and I had a great vocal sound together," Dolenz recalls. "I remember Mike demanding and insisting that he get his tunes on the first album. I still think his are some of the best."
Two days later, Boyce & Hart were in the same studios completing new tracks for "Take A Giant Step," David Gates' "Saturday's Child," and a Gerry Goffin/Russ Titleman collaboration called "I'll Be True To You." Interestingly, "I'll Be True To You" had been issued more than a year before by England's The Hollies under the title "Yes I Will." This fact only became apparent to the song's lead singer and fellow Mancunian, Davy Jones, 23 years later: "I was very shocked when we played the Albert Hall in 1989, and part of the review said that The Monkees were singing a Hollies hit. I said, 'What?' My wife said, 'Wow, yeah, The Hollies had a hit with that -- that's a good song.'" On a similar note, another Manchester band, Herman's Hermits, cut a version of "Saturday's Child" just prior to The Monkees. Their take later saw release on the Hermits' Kind Of Hush album in early 1967.
On July 18, 1966, Nesmith cut three more songs for potential inclusion on the album, though only one would make it onto the final product. "Sweet Young Thing" was the result of a one-off collaboration between Nesmith and the Goffin/King partnership. While Nesmith still holds the song in high regard, the collaboration itself is not as fondly remembered: "Gerry and Carole had very strong songwriting styles, but I was not a fan of their writing environment. I really enjoyed working with them, but the circumstances were tough. I did not like being cast in with some other folks and being told to write with them." Other songs cut on this date included an early version of "You Just May Be The One" (which eventually appeared on Missing Links, Vol. 2) and another Goffin & King tune, "It Won't Be The Same Without Her," which snuck out of the can three years later on The Monkees' Instant Replay.
The centerpiece of both the first album and the pilot show was Boyce & Hart's somber "I Wanna Be Free," which was cut the following day. The song featured an affectioning solo vocal from Davy Jones, and may very well be Jones' best recorded performance. By this time, Boyce & Hart would only allow The Monkees to enter RCA individually to record their vocals, because of an early, disatrous experience with the group.
"The first time we met with the guys after the show had been sold, we went in to record the theme song -- it must have been the demo track," Hart says. "Anyway, we took them into a small studio on the corner of Hollywood and Vine. The guys had just met, and they were all trying to outdo each other with being zany and so on -- it was just pandemonium. They knew the song apparently, they all had the demo to rehearse with, so we said, 'Here's the track, let's try one -- Take 1.' Then we looked out of the control room, and they were on the floor in a dogpile, wrestling. We tried to get them to straighten up, but they were just totally crazed. So, after trying for about a half an hour, we just dismissed the session.
"That was the first time we ever heard them sing, or ever tried to hear them sing. After that, when we finally got back in as producers, I believe we did audition the guys vocally -- probably not Mike though, because he was always doing his own thing off on the side. We decided that Davy had a nice little English sound, Peter basically had no commercial value as a singer for what we were looking for, and we thought Micky had a great commercial voice. We decided that we would do our vocals with Micky and Davy -- mostly featuring Micky."
As sessions for the first album wound down, Boyce & Hart took a few more liberties in the studio. Work on July 3, 1966, began with the duo cutting an instrumental called "Jokes" that wasn't intended for The Monkees, before moving on to the stellar "Tomorrow's Gonna Be Another Day." The latter was chosen by Boyce, who wrote the song with Steve Venet. Hart recalls how early this collaboration came about: "We both thought the song fit the image, but Tommy also wanted to get Steve represented on the album. Steve Venet was signed to Screen Gems before I was. Tommy was originally signed to Screen Gems in New York, and when they set up the West Coast office, Tommy was sent out here. Boyce and I would write in New York and then I was working on the road as a backup musician for a group in Las Vegas off and on. So, when he got signed down here, he called me up and said, 'Hey, I can get you the same deal -- get off the road, and come sign with Screen Gems.' In the meantime, Tommy's main writing partner was Steve Venet. In fact, they had a couple of hits in those few months -- 'Peaches "N" Cream' for The Ikettes [#36 in March 1965], and the theme song for Where The Action Is by Freddy Cannon ["Action," #13 in August 1965]. But within a few weeks of my arrival, Steve quit the business. I think maybe he was taking too many psychedelics. He went from coming into the office in a three-piece suit to coming in with sweaters -- the last time I saw him, he was on the Sunset Strip wrapped in a sheet!" The final song recorded at the July 23 session would also be the album's closer -- "Gonna Buy Me A Dog."
Before the first take of "Gonna Buy Me A Dog" was made, Don Kirshner imparted this piece of wisdom to the assembled musicians: "It's a funny tune, so if we're gonna get funny, we might as well be funny and different." Funny it wasn't; different it was. Recorded with the bizzre feel of a 12-bar jam including fuzz guitars and the sound of strings being scratched with picks to emulate dog barks, "Gonna Buy Me A Dog" was hardly your average novelty song. The recording's off-the-wall potential was not fully explored until Davy and Micky jointly trashed the tune's purposely inane lyrics during a vocal session. "They didn't understand the song -- they thought it was real stupid, to tell you the truth," Hart remembers. "So they were basically making fun of it. That's what usually happened when there were at least two of them in the same room -- they would try and outdo each other." The finished take, or unfinished, if you like, was the closest The Monkees came to capturing the freewheeling spirit of their television show on tape. "They ended up using the goof rather than the straight version," Dolenz notes. "That happened an awful lot on the television show -- they would use the outtakes."
The last session for the LP The Monkees was held on July 25, 1966. For this occasion, Boyce & Hart tendered two new compositions: "Last Train To Clarksville" and "I Can't Get Her Off My Mind." When "Clarksville" was issued as a single a mere three weeks later on August 16, it cannonballed to #1 on the pop chart. Astonishingly, "Clarksville" -- an integral part of The Monkees' early success -- was only written when Boyce & Hart mistakenly observed that they were a few songs short to fill the long-player's 12 slots. Hart explains: "We didn't know that there were going to be Nesmith songs on the album, so we wrote those two songs at the last minute." The early version of "I Can't Get Her Off My Mind," recorded at this session, is presented here for the very first time. This song was later given a similar reading by the group on their 1967 release Headquarters.
After it's release on October 10, 1066, The Monkees would sell more than four million copies -- a commercial, but not a critical success. Regardless of this initial oppprobrium, which centered around the ethical ramifications of the group's prefabricated origins, The Monkees remains one of the memorable releases of 1966, man-made, or otherwise. Nevertheless, for the four individuals pictured on the album's cover, there were a variety of feelings to contend upon its release. Dolenz recalls: "To me the early albums were soundtrack records to the show. [Being a musician] wasn't my job. My job was to be an actor, and to come in and sing this stuff when I was asked to. When I'd get an album, I'd go 'Wow! I'm on the cover -- look, this is great, another album!' It wasn't until Mike and Peter got so upset about not being involved that Davy and I started defending them and getting concerned on their behalf.
"The only mistake I think the producers made is that they tried to sell it a bit too much originally as a self-contained group. They didn't acknowledge the other players. We'd have felt better about it -- Mike and Peter mainly -- if they's just included credits. Still, compared to the stuff that goes on today, we were as pure as the driven snow!"
-- Andrew Sandoval
