Steppin' Stones

Woke up with Micky Dolenz singing (I’m Not Your) Steppin’ Stone in my head. Christ on a melting clock, I loved the Monkees and was so disappointed to find out that they weren’t a real band. Mike Nesmith was a real musician and songwriter. So was Peter Tork (bass, guitar, banjo, keyboards, and French horn). Micky Dolenz was an actor who learned to play the drums for his part on the show. Davy Jones? He was a jockey who could sing. Behind the scenes, other songwriters wrote their tunes and session musicians covered everything except the vocals.

I was a kid when I found this out but it bugged the hell out of me. I wanted them to be a real band, songwriters, genuine wacky creative talents.

Similarly, when I found out that Art Garfunkel was getting songwriting credits on all of Paul Simons tunes in the ‘60s but was just contributing vocals, I was pissed. Yes, dude had a lovely choirboy voice. He provided a sweet voice BUT he didn’t co-write those poetic songs. I hated that my girlfriend Jean went all swoony over him – acting like he was more than a singer.

Mind you, being a talented performer is grand – Dionne Warwick, Diana Ross, Frank Sinatra, Joe Cocker anyone? Just don’t try to put yourself out there as an original artist. Fer gawd’s sake.

Maybe it’s like it’s Patrick Stewart playing Oberon in a A Midsummer Night's Dream. I’m certain he was absolutely brilliant but he didn’t write the play – Shakespeare did. Stewart would NEVER in a zillion years claim or imply that he’d had anything to do with the writing of the play though.

The songwriting team of Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart wrote a lot of the Monkees’ songs. Neil Diamond, Carole Bayer Sager, Neil Sedaka, Harry Nilsson, Carole King and her husband Gerry Goffin also wrote for them.

The teevee show was cancelled after two short seasons. Frank Zappa supposedly asked Dolenz (who, remember, had only just learned to play for the show) to be his drummer but I can’t believe this was a serious invitation. Either that or Frank was tripping his auditory cortex clean off. I mean, Zappa wrote compositions with time signatures like 7/4, 11/8, and 19/16. Yeah Micky, that invitation wasn’t meant to be taken so earnestly. 

An aside: One of Zappa’s drummer was Terry Bozzio who I had the unbelievable luck to see at a drum festival in Amsterdam. This was probably three million years ago when early hominids were first sparking doobies along the Leidseplein. Bozzio was massively BRILLIANT. His playing was fucking transportational. My soul soared into the stratosphere. Swear ta Bast!

This interview with Micky Dolenz at The Guardian’s  website reminded me of their movie Head. I saw that way back in 1980 or ’81 at some odd little backstreet cafe/movie house in Cambridge’s Central Square. Back then, Central Square was still gritty with The Red Bookstore (located near the Massachusetts chapter of the Communist Party), the Orson Welles Cinema (picketed by nuns for showing a movie portraying the Virgin Mary as a pregnant basketball player), and Mary Chung’s – the small, dark Chinese restaurant in which I regularly dined.

In any case, Head, I dimly recall, was a real trip and I’d love to see it again. It was written by Jack Nicholson. Apparently I can watch the whole thing on YouTube. Huh. Waddyaknow.

Mike Nesmith died from heart failure in 2021. He was 78.
Peter Tork died in 2019 from a rare cancer – adenoid cystic carcinoma – at the age of 77.
Davy Jones died in 2012 of a heart attack. He was just 66 years old.

In the dream previous to the (I’m Not Your) Steppin’ Stone one, I was designing business cards for my company’s rebranding. We were no longer going to be an offset print and copy house. Nope. We were going to specialize in assassinations and demolitions of mega-corporations.

I was kind of stuck on the logo. The old one (a cartoonish English Bobby) just didn’t seem to fit the new biz identity. Huh.