RIP Michael Nesmith

As a young person, mom’s records were spun on a daily basis. While mine was a musical family with a lot of the classical “hits” lying about on vinyl (and on the music stand in the piano room), we tended to hear a bit more of Elvis, Ricky Nelson, The Coasters, Johnny Cash, and all kinds of classic oldies. The top number of album plays went to Meet the Beatles by a mile, though the second place spot was held by the Monkees’ Headquarters record.

The Monkees caught a lot of justified flack back in their day: they were essentially one of the very first corporate-produced boy bands, created by suits to serve as an American answer to the Beatles. Complaints that they didn’t play their instruments — while fair — somehow never extended to their more “serious” contemporaries, many of whom (Beach Boys, the Byrds, Mamas & the Papas, etc) used the very same Wrecking Crew session players on their own records.

Fed up with getting kicked around, Headquarters was the Monkees’ direct response to the critics. Their first release with all four members playing their own instruments, it’s not quite as chock-full of the hits as were their earlier outings, but it’s a super-solid release. Much of my affinity may be tied to nostalgia (it did, after all, receive a ride on the turntable at least once daily for my first 4-5 years on Earth), but I like to think I know good music when I hear it. And that’s precisely what I hear with this record.

The exquisitely understated work of George Harrison and Mike Nesmith ignited in me a lifelong fascination with all things guitar. We’ve had 20 years to process the loss of George — today, we sadly say farewell to Mike.

RIP Mr. Nesmith. Thank you for the music.

Brent Baldwin