Friday, February 22, 2019

Peter Tork, RIP

I remember watching old episodes of the Monkees television show in reruns, usually on Saturday mornings, but I was a bit too young to see them when they originally aired in the 1960s. Even if you've never seen an actual episode, the music was ubiquitous and you can easily hear a Monkees song any day on an oldies station.

Peter Tork was generally the bassist for the group and would occasionally show up on keyboards. Tork died yesterday, at the age of 77. Tork and guitarist Mike Nesmith were both talented musicians on the L.A. scene; Tork hung out a lot with Stephen Stills and it wouldn't be difficult to construct an alternate history in which Stills passed his screen test and had been a Monkee instead, with Tork becoming a member of Buffalo Springfield.

The Monkees were, as a band, pretty good. They had some of the era's best songwriters at their disposal and often had the services of the Wrecking Crew, the great L.A. session musicians, to help fill out their sound. It's easy to bag on the Monkees for being the creation of television producers, but their music is really a triumph of craft. Consider one of their better songs, "Pleasant Valley Sunday," written by Carole King and Gerry Goffin:


After a while, the Monkees tired of being mostly actors and eventually started doing more of the actual performing. And they did some nice work later in this later period as well:

 

Was it brilliant? Not particularly, but it was always tuneful and fun. That's an element of 60s music that's often forgotten; even the schlock was often well-done. A contemporary of the Monkees who had a lot of hits in the era was Johnny Rivers. He did a lot of covers, including this cover of a Willie Dixon blues standard, which includes some fun musicianship and a weird milieu of beautiful California girls carrying odd cargo:


At least in my own mind, I tend to add another group of 60s hitmakers to this collection. That would be Tommy James and the Shondells, who came out of Michigan and hit the charts repeatedly, always pressing the fun button:


This music lives on, and will continue to live on, because craftsmanship has its virtues.

2 comments:

John said...

"This music lives on, and will continue to live on, because craftsmanship has its virtues."

Bravo. Being of that generation agree totally. I think of the '60s as a golden age for rock, where you saw the transition of the generation clearly articulated in the music.

As you point out the Monkees were knocked because they were the front men of a television show and those not so fortunate were quick to point out they were only acting, and not real musical artists. It was only in later years did the critics realize the quality of the writing as well as the performances. As a kid, none of my peers gave a hoot we bought the 45s and LPs because we liked the songs. Their voices blended is a set of great harmonies.

I understand Peter had a tough transition back to life after those heady days. Hopefully, he was at peace in the end.

Mr. D said...

As a kid, none of my peers gave a hoot we bought the 45s and LPs because we liked the songs. Their voices blended is a set of great harmonies.

Exactly. There were others who picked up the torch; in the 1970s, I'd say Three Dog Night was the successor to these acts. They didn't write their own material, but they gave a lot of singer-songwriters a real career boost; they had hits with songs from Laura Nyro ("Eli's Coming"), Randy Newman ("Mama Told Me Not to Come") Hoyt Axton ("Joy to the World" and "I've Never Been to Spain"), and even John Hiatt ("Sure As I'm Sittin' Here). Every time I hear one of their songs, I smile.