Last Train to Clarksville…RIP Davy Jones

This one hit me.  Of course, I was saddened to hear of the death of Michael Davis, bass player for MC5 about a week ago.  They were an awesome band but, truth to tell, I had no idea who their bass player or any of their other members were.  Whitney Houston’s death was tragic, and she

Davy's the short one

certainly had a beautiful voice, but she appealed to a different demographic.  I thought “The  Bodyguard” was a way over-rated movie.  I was saddened by Amy Winehouse’s death last year, but it really wasn’t much of a surprise.  To anybody.

But now, Davy Jones is dead at 66.  That makes me feel really old.  He didn’t die of a drug overdose, he didn’t die in a plane crash like Buddy Holly or Otis Redding, he was old and he died of a heart attack.  In his sleep.

For you young whippersnappers who have the historical bad fortune not to have experienced the ’60s, the Monkees were a cool band in the era of cool bands and Davy Jones was the coolest of the Monkees.  Of course, they were totally a made for TV band, chosen more for their acting ability than their musical ability, and they pretty much all hated each other in real life, but none of that is important.  Davy Jones was the Justin Bieber of 1966.  He was the only British member of the group and he was the baby faced one that all the girls went gaga over.

When David Bowie became a star he had to change his name to Bowie because there was already a Davy Jones.  That’s how big he was.

They were TV’s answer to the Beatles, the mainstreaming of Rock and Roll.  Each week they would have a paper thin plot which would lead to lots of lame gags and lots of fooling around and silly dance moves, and then they’d sing a song.  This was before MTV, before music videos.  They were the precursors of all that.

So, time keeps moving forward into the future, the present becomes the past and rock idols, like everybody else, get old and die.

Sincere condolences to his family and friends.