Hey Hey! The Monkees are coming to this town
Post-Tribune, Gary, IN
August 1, 1997
by Bob Kostanczuk, staff writer

Davy Jones was one mad Monkee.

On the phone this week from the West Coast, Jones wasn't playing the cute,
chipper Monkee from the '60s. Business matters were rattling him.

"Justus", the Monkees' self-produced self-written comeback album from 1996,
didn't cause much of a stir.

"I just think it was mishandled. It's being mishandled," lamented Jones,
51.

He laid marketing shortfalls at the doorstep of Rhino Records, the Los
Angeles-based oldies titan that released what it billed as the first new
album by the Monkees in nearly 30 years.  Rhino's David Dorn defended the
label's efforts: "We spent a considerable amount of money on the project."
Jones sees it differently: "They're just probably waiting to put it in
their catalog without any concerted effort in regard to taking it into the
'90s."

But Davy wasn't finished---he had other corporate types to fry, citing
several music powerhouses who "have been making money on the golden great
hits of the Monkees for 25 years, and we make s---, we make nothing." He's
considering suing.

"We ARE the Monkees," decreed Jones.  "We are the guys that go out there
and sing those tunes...I can't help but thinking (about) all the fat cats
sitting at home while we're laboring, living in hotels..."

Jones, looking for an avenue of career rejuvenation for him and his boys,
is eagerly anticipating a Monkees feature film that is supposedly in the
works, set for theatrical release.

He's yearning for something more than the life-on-the-road routine. "We do
our meet-and-greets after the show, and shake hands and say hello. Then we
go to the hotel to watch the late-night movie," Jones noted.  "We don't go
straight to the bar, you know, get rat-faced. We're 50-year-old men now,
still singing the same songs...and still getting paid a moderate salary.

"So I don't know," he concluded in exasperation, "something's desperately
wrong here, and hopefully the movie will take us into a different dimension
and further away from the powers that hold our destiny in a Monkee logo and
a catalog of old material."

On the Monkees' immediate agenda: A show tonight at Merrillville's Star
Plaza Theatre, which Jones happens to love.

"It's a great venue for the Monkees," said the British-born singer. "We
always get a great response."

A lover of theater, Jones (who's appeared on stage in "Oliver!" and
"Godspell"), sees the Star as the type of theater that could provide the
Monkees with a career twist.

"I'd love to see the Monkees go into that particular theater and stay there
for three months doing ...a theatrical production," he said.  "We could
draw from that area. I'm positive we could."

But tonight at the Star, it will be Jones, Micky Dolenz, and Peter
Tork---but no Michael Nesmith---reviving past glories with Monkees'
pop-rock classics like "Last Train to Clarksville", "I'm a Believer",
"Daydream Believer", and "Pleasant Valley Sunday".

Jones said he constantly tries to push new tunes into the act, but it's
tough when the audiences--which Jones says include a "massive" number of
prepubescent children---are anchored to Monkees' hits from a narrow
three-year period in the '60s.

Popular reruns of the group's television series from the '60s--and the lack
of a strong musical catalog past the '60s--further handcuff the group to
the past.

"We wanna grow and reach new heights musically and artistically, but we're
limited because of the audience need," he said.

The rather disappointing acceptance of "Justus" can be traced, in part, to
the fact that all four Monkees did not tour the United States to support
it.

On this current round of U.S. touring, Nesmith is again missing in action,
reportedly working on the group's upcoming film.

Jones said Nesmith, the group's chief songwriter in its heyday, does not
like the grind associated with touring.

But Jones implied that they can do fine on the road without Nesmith.

"Michael was never an integral part of the Monkees on the screen or on the
records," said Jones. "He made sure he got his songs on the records, but
most of them were never songs that were played on the radio.  He's always
kept himself separate--the sort of Invisible Man".

The words seem rather harsh, but all four Monkees are likely to work
together again.

Jones, for all his gripes, loves what the Monkees mean to people. He said
he still gets a charge out of singing "Daydream Believer", be it in front
of a U2 crowd as a campy karaoke bit or in front of much smaller audiences.
"People just get goose bumps when they hear it," said Jones.