"The Frodis Caper," 50 Years Later

On this very date a scant fifty years ago, the Monkees saved the world.  If you were around back then, you might not remember the evil Wizard Glick's plan to use the hypnotizing power of the stranded alien Frodis to brainwash the people of earth via television.  Clearly, you were zoned out by those alien airwaves as the Monkees raced to their local TV studio, battled a two-headed org, and ultimately helped the Frodis recharge its powers and save the world.  Don't worry, that's an understandable lapse in memory.

Yes, today marks the anniversary of The Frodis Caper (aka 'Mijacogeo'), the final first-run episode of The Monkees.  Anybody that knows me for 10 minutes or so knows that I'm a huge, lifelong fan of the Monkees.  I've contextualized my love of the Monkees on this and other blogs, not to mention public talks and performances around Phoenix, so I won't bother recapping how theirs was the first TV show I ever binged, the first albums I ever bought, or the first concert I ever attended.  No need to repeat myself, time and time again.

While I'm a much bigger fan of their music than their TV show, The Frodis Caper is a close second to the cult-classic movie Head on my favorites list of their on-film appearances.  It's a fun, remarkable snippet of their history for many reasons, all of which inform my creative process to this day.  If may indulge a few of those reasons, I hope this post will be the first in a new series about things that inspire me, and accordingly the self-publishing of my minicomic Amazing Arizona Comics.  

Firstly, The Frodis Caper marks the return of "The Monkeemen," the Monkees' infrequent superhero secret identities.  Of course the plot of an evil wizard would demand superhero action, but just as quickly as the guys try to don their costumes, they're foiled by a new law that prevents changing in phone booths.  Later, they consult the Monkeemen Manual, in its first and only appearance in Monkee-lore.  I just love this stuff, because it jabs at that old phone booth Superman trope, and it also inadvertently mocks the future "super-suit guidebook" detail from another favorite TV show, The Greatest American Hero.  If I ever write Monkees fan fiction, I just might imply that the Monkees super-suits (which, upon inspection, look a lot like Ralph Hinkley's tights) come from the very same aliens!

Secondly, the actual "caper" is a nefarious meta-message about the Monkees' very influence on America's youth.  Just as Glick hoped to brainwash the world with televised hypnosis, the harshest criticism about the Monkees was that they had done just that, bypassing usual music industry methods of promotion and delivering their music directly into homes with their show, boosting record sales.  Now, it is the industry standard to release multimedia prior to or alongside a record's release, but, in the '60s, critics and purists thought the Monkees perverted the process by skirting radio's monopoly-influence over popular music.  So, it makes sense that this would be the guys' last TV episode.  By defeating the wizard Glick, they defeated themselves, too!

Finally, The Frodis Caper was co-written and directed by Monkee Micky Dolenz.  At that point in their careers, the Monkees seized a little more creative control over their media, and the guys tried to transform the show into something more representative of their tastes.  Guest segments, like this episode's acoustic performance by Tim Buckley, teased the idea of a variety hour that never came to pass.  Yes, the last segment in the Monkees' ongoing series didn't even feature a Monkee!  As they gained more control over their careers, they became more apt to share their spotlight, from Jimi Hendrix on stage to Frank Zappa on screen.  The Monkees didn't present morals at the ends of their shows, like my other favorite franchise He-Man and the Masters of the Universe, but closing this last episode with a friend's work speaks way louder than any cheesy one-liner ever could.

The Frodis Caper is a fan-favorite for its blatantly obnoxious use of quick cuts, non sequiturs, and general self-awareness as a TV show for kids.  Micky presents the possibility of the Monkees as a band that knows they're in a television show, which would make for many more amazing conceptual episodes, if this wasn't their last.  In their '90s reunion special, Davy does turn off the laugh track with a switch hidden in the wall of their pad, so this theory stands!  Just imagine a Monkees story that establishes their on-screen personas as separate identities from the actual four actors/musicians that played them, perhaps on a parallel earth stuck in the '60s.  Those Monkees could still be romp-stomping, reality-bending, struggling musicians, as their fans forever watch from the earth where the real Monkees grew up and became true legends -- a Frodis caper that still captures our attention to this very day.

Blogger's Note:  This website has some great notes and research on The Frodis Caper, and practically all of the Monkees' stuff.  Check it out!

CoDoDo: My Countdown to Micky Dolenz, part 5

It's almost here!  Micky Dolenz is in Phoenix -- he was live in studio on the morning news shows today -- and tomorrow night I'll be a raving fanboy at his concert at the Marquee in Tempe!  I've blogging some of my favorite Dolenz Monkees songs this week, and it's been building to this!  Two words:

Shorty Blackwell.

Apparently, Shorty Blackwell was the name of Micky's cat.  I didn't know that when I first heard this song as a kid -- the last song on their Instant Replay album.  For me, "Shorty Blackwell" was my first psychedelic tune, a weird symphony of operatic chanting, horns, and piano solos that plays on a variety of emotions, from whimsy to melancholy and everything in between. Yesterday, I mentioned this song in contrast to "As We Go Along."  "As We Go Along" is quiet, reflective, and organized.  "Shorty" is loud, brash, and outright messy -- proving that Micky's vocals can handle anything.

I could write on and on about the narrative of the song, and what it's meant to me, but I'll let it speak for itself.  Enjoy -- just as I'll enjoy Micky's show tomorrow night.  Yes, there will be a field report!

CoDoDo: My Countdown to Micky Dolenz, part 4

Micky Dolenz is coming to the Marquee in Tempe this Saturday, and I, a lifelong Monkees fan, am counting the days with a look at some of my favorite Dolenz tunes . . . but first . . .

Bonus!  Last Halloween, I dressed up as Micky, from his rug-wearing days during the Rainbow Room sessions!  The Rainbow Room is famously known as the setting for the "Daydream Believer" video, and a few other great songs from that era were "performed" there, too.  I found the rug (which, in my case, is actually a sheet) and the stripped shirt at Goodwill, but my buddy Jan miraculously provided the wig.  My girlfriend and I were visiting his family in Sedona and were about to karaoke in Old Town Cottonwood, when I said on a whim, "I really should've found a brown curly wig to complete this get-up."

"I think we have one!" Jan exclaimed, digging through a costume box.  Then, boom.  I was Micky in, ahem, no time.  It was a statewide effort!

Now, these posts are certainly not scheduled in any particular order.  In the past, I've tried to list my favorite Monkees tunes, and it's simply impossible to pick an absolute favorite. Tomorrow's post comes close, especially as Micky songs go -- and this would be a close second, by way of revealing the breadth of his talents.  I'll have to elaborate on the contrast tomorrow, lest I spoil the reveal now!

So, yes, today -- "As We Go Along," from the Monkees' controversial film Head.  Poorly received then, cult classic now, Head is a trip, and its soundtrack is honestly a great audio representation of the film.  I listened to the soundtrack long before I saw the movie -- maybe ten years passed between hearing that vinyl on my playroom turntable and finally catching the flick on late-night TBS.  I thought seeing the movie would bridge the eclectic soundbytes on the album with, I don't know, plot?  No such luck.  Head must be seen to be believed.  I love it.



In the both the film and on the record, "As We Go Along" is a reflective pause.  The other songs are simply bombastic, visually and audibly.  "As We Go Along" stands as a great ballad, then coupled with this montage from the film, it becomes a proclamation of exploration and growth, for better or worse.  I've read write-ups that the rhythm of the song made for a difficult recording session for Micky, something about the song's timing.  I'm not a musician -- I only know that he nails it.  It's timeless -- if, as the end of this video asks, anything can be.

CoDoDo: My Countdown to Micky Dolenz, part 3

I love the Monkees.  Always have, always will.  Micky Dolenz is performing this weekend at the Marquee in Tempe, so I'm posting thoughts on some of my favorite Dolenz-sung Monkees tunes.

Admittedly, this wasn't an easy list to limit to just one post per day, for a meager five days until Micky's Saturday night show.  I could've easily started a week ago, and I don't know if that would've been enough.  Still, I'm pinpointing songs that grab me every time I hear them -- that I can't help but sing along to -- and we're talking 30 years running.

By that standard, I have to include this tune: "All Of Your Toys."  This song wasn't released on one of the Monkees' nine original-run albums, yet it was recorded in one of their very first sessions as an actual band, playing their own instruments in studio.  That's right -- the Monkees fought for the rights to play their own instruments, after criticism called them out for having studio musicians, even as many other bands of that era did (and still do).  The guys' origin as a made-for-TV band probably had a lot to do with that undue commentary.  

So, this is a fitting tune for one of their "official first."  They really were the producers' playthings, until they clipped the strings -- which one of the lessons I've learned from them. "I'm A Believer" was a great tune, but had the Monkees not sought the chance to prove themselves, they may have been lost to the annals of music history.  This effort is proof of the pop music greatness that was to come, and a fandom that will last forever!

CoDoDo: My Countdown to Micky Dolenz, part 2

I thought about calling this series "CoDoDoSolo: My Countdown to the Micky Dolenz Solo Show," since he'll be the only Monkee playing at the Marquee this weekend in Tempe, but I thought that was a long title and opted for an edit.  Speaking of edits . . .

"Mommy And Daddy" is probably Micky's most controversial song.  It appeared on "The Monkees Present," the album I admit to enjoying the least as a kid.  Conversely, it has two of my favorite Papa Nez tunes -- "Listen to the Band" and "Good Clean Fun" -- and I remember really liking "Little Girl," but I didn't connect with the rest of the record.  If the Monkees had their way, these songs should've been a part of their ideal double-vinyl set, where each of the guys would've had a side all their own.  Especially sans Peter, I think "Present" was just a little too uneven for my young ears.

Of course, now I totally dig it -- especially Micky's "Mommy And Daddy."  He penned the tune with his Native American roots in mind (that's what he's said) before the song quickly skews into a wild social commentary.  Apparently his initial lyrics were so dark, producers strongly encouraged a re-write.  Here's the original, unreleased version -- if anyone dismisses the Monkees as kids' stuff, just play them this!

The version that was released isn't much brighter.  Micky perhaps wisely drops the references to JFK and outright murder, and the inquiry about Mommy's pills is a little less accusatory.  Of course, it's all over YouTube if you really want to hear it -- and so is a clip or two of Micky himself explaining the song's origins.  

Regardless, "Mommy And Daddy" really transcends its time, considering today's political climate.  As much as I love the tune, I'm saddened that none of its questions have been answered yet, but I'm grateful we'll always have this music to help the pill go down.

Still A Daydream Believer Official Teaser Trailer

The 12 Days of Christmas (Comics) is on a brief hiatus as my brother and I are working on a short film. I've met all of the Monkees, a dream I've had almost all of my life. Now what? Share the dream.

Meet The Monkees

I'm a lifelong Monkees fan, and I've always wanted to meet them.  Several years ago, when I lived in Southern California, I met Micky Dolenz when he and his sister Coco performed a free concert in the park.  I thought that was a dream come true in itself.

Then, a year or more later, Peter Tork and his band, Shoe Suede Blues, performed in the city of Orange, and I snatched up tickets and met him.  Two out of four -- I was content.

Some time after that, the Monkees' movie Head screened at the Egyptian Theater in Hollywood.  Peter and Davy Jones did a panel for fans -- and I shared a remarkable moment with Davy that I'll treasure forever.  

Ever since the Monkees' heyday, Mike Nesmith removed himself from that teeny-bopper scene and pursued his own solo career in country rock and video production.  He rejoined the group for Davy's memorial last year, and my wife and I saw him with Micky and Peter at the Greek Theater in 2012, and just a few months ago at the Mesa Arts Center.  He didn't greet fans at either venue, and I resigned to the thought that I'd never meet him.

Last night, Mike started a solo tour, of all places, right here in Phoenix.  He offered a limited number of  "Conversation Passes" for a post-show meet and greet.  I got one.  I met him.  I don't mind telling you, I cried.

It's not every day you get to meet your heroes -- in this case, artists that have influenced me in more ways than I can ever acknowledge.  It is every day that you can honor them by pursuing the passion for creativity that their works instilled in you.  

Stay tuned.