THE LAST MONKEE SPEAKS: Micky Dolenz Shares Heartbreaking Memory of Glen Campbell Show and “Tear Drop City” Performance
At 80 years old, Micky Dolenz is not only a living piece of music history — he is its last living witness.
In a deeply moving post shared with fans, Dolenz recently reflected on a moment that, at first glance, seemed simple: an old contract. But for him — and for those who lived through the magic of the 1960s — it was so much more than paper and ink. It was a doorway to another time, another feeling, another brotherhood.
“It was the contract for our appearance on The Glen Campbell Goodtime Hour,” Dolenz wrote, with the quiet kind of reverence that only comes from outliving your closest companions. “By that point, Peter Tork had already left the group, but Mike Nesmith, Davy Jones, and I carried on. We were promoting our brand-new single, ‘Tear Drop City’, and performed a medley of the classic hits our fans had come to love.”
The mention of “Tear Drop City” alone stirred up a storm of emotions for longtime fans — the song had marked the band’s shift after Tork’s departure and showcased Dolenz’s unmistakable voice in a new light. Released in 1969, it was upbeat, catchy, and filled with the signature harmonies that defined The Monkees sound.
But for Dolenz, it wasn’t just about the song. It was about the experience — and the people.
“Glen Campbell welcomed us warmly,” he recalled. “A true gentleman. A gifted musician. A kind soul. He made us feel at home.”
To those who remember, The Glen Campbell Goodtime Hour was a landmark variety show, spotlighting the era’s top talents. Having The Monkees appear as guests was a symbolic passing of the torch from one genre-bending artist to another — from Campbell’s country-pop roots to the Monkees’ rock-pop television explosion.
And yet, as Micky reflects on that time, there’s no bravado. No boasting. Just the soft, unmistakable sound of someone revisiting old ghosts.
“Seeing these old documents,” he says, “brings back so many memories. It’s heartbreaking.”
And then, with a pause that feels heavier than words: “And now, I’m the only one left.”
That sentence, simple as it is, carries the full weight of decades of friendship, fame, touring, loss, and survival. One by one, Davy, Mike, and Peter departed — each with their own legacy, their own spark, their own struggle. And now, it’s Micky Dolenz, alone, carrying the torch.
But in sharing these memories — especially with such humility — Dolenz reminds us why The Monkees mattered. Why they still do. It wasn’t just the music. It was the bond. The joy. The way their songs could make you feel seventeen again. And the way their harmonies, even now, echo through our lives like old friends whispering from a distant room.
For those who grew up with them, or found them later in life, Micky’s words are a final note in a song that’s still playing.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s the magic of it all.