Bold statement: the magic of the Monkees isn’t just the hits—it's the irreplaceable feeling those original performances still evoke, even decades later. And this is the part most people miss: Micky Dolenz remains the last living Monkee who can articulate exactly why the original recordings and moments matter so deeply.
In an interview, Dolenz shares that fans don’t want a new version of Last Train to Clarksville, and he feels the same way: he wants to honor the authentic, original sound and presentation. He recalls his teenage fandom for the Everly Brothers—whom he admired as closely as the Monkees themselves would come to represent—and describes the 1983 Royal Albert Hall reunion as a defining moment. He attended eighth-row center, hoping Phil and Don would perform his favorites, and he remembers how disappointing some headline acts could be when they skipped favorites or lingered on a limited batch of hits. Inspired by that experience, Dolenz resolved that, if he ever performed Monkees songs again, he would deliver every track in full, with faithful arrangements, opening licks, and hooks preserved.
Even at 80, Dolenz is the last Monkee standing as the group’s legacy endures in a special way. The band’s frontman Davy Jones died in 2012, followed by Peter Tork in 2019 and Michael Nesmith in 2021, leaving Dolenz as the sole surviving member who can bridge the original era with today’s fans.
To mark the anniversary, Rhino released The A’s, The B’s & The Monkees, a compilation of singles from 1966 to 1970, alongside Dolenz’s 60 Years of the Monkees tour. The tour kicks off in Solana Beach, California, on February 12, with a Los Angeles stop on September 12 marking the 1966 NBC sitcom premiere. Dolenz promises a show that threads storytelling with a chronological performance of the band’s hits—think of it as a Monkees Eras Tour that blends music with memory.
Musically, Dolenz emphasizes that the core of any show is the songs themselves: the “meat and potatoes”. Beyond that, this era will lean more on video and narrative, exploring the show’s genesis and the genetics of the band’s television incarnation.
Dolenz openly acknowledges the emotional toll of performing as the sole surviving Monkee. Grief is a constant undercurrent, but he also notes that the others never truly leave him on stage. If a video glimpse of his former bandmates appears during a performance, it can still bring him to tears.
Looking at the Monkees’ legacy, Dolenz remains pragmatic yet romantic. He contends with a common misconception: the Monkees were not a traditional band, but a musical comedy sitcom. He accepted his role as the drummer even though he didn’t start as a drummer himself, and he has always been driven more by the songs themselves than by the idea of a typical rock band identity.
Dolenz lists his broader influences—Beatles, the Animals, the Stones, Otis Redding—and describes himself as a bluesy-rock enthusiast. Yet he still loves singing Monkees classics like I’m a Believer and Pleasant Valley Sunday, and he explains that enduring affection comes from the craftsmanship of renowned writers such as Carole King, Neil Diamond, Boyce & Hart, Harry Nilsson, Paul Williams, and David Gates.
Despite the Monkees’ substantial commercial success and lasting cultural impact, the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame has not inducted them. Dolenz offers a candid perspective: the Hall of Fame began as a private club, and its current dynamics resemble a private country club that invites some people in while keeping others out. He doesn’t revolve his life around the possibility of induction and isn’t distraught about it.
Dolenz cites the two 1967 Emmys as a peak of achievement he still cherishes, praising the show’s outstanding comedy series and direction. He notes that while Tork and Nesmith often voiced frustration, he never felt unhappy being a Monkee. Fame has brought its challenges, including public scrutiny, harassment, and even legal threats, yet he remains grateful for the life the Monkees gave him.
Today, Dolenz stays active in performance and recording, including 2021’s Dolenz Sings Nesmith, produced by Christian Nesmith. While travel is a heavy part of the job—essentially the trade-off for doing what he loves—he plans to stay on the road as long as possible, albeit with increasing selectivity about gigs. He frames touring as the “easy” part of a career that’s also defined by the work behind the scenes, the storytelling, and the connections with fans.
Fans continue to crave more, from films to documentaries, even though the Monkees never owned the brand outright. Dolenz remains deeply appreciative of the extraordinary life the Monkees gave him and the opportunities to perform, record, and connect with generations of listeners who still find joy in their music.
Would you agree that the Monkees’ true legacy lies more in the songs themselves and the cultural moment they created, rather than in any single lineup or the formal recognition they received? What is your favorite Monkees era, and why do you think it resonates across decades?
