Micky Dolenz Honors Michael Nesmith in Heartfelt Tribute: “There Was Always Magic When He Played”
When The Monkees first burst onto television screens in 1966, few could have predicted the cultural phenomenon they would become—or the lifelong friendships that would form behind the scenes. For Micky Dolenz, that bond with Michael Nesmith was more than musical; it was spiritual, creative, and enduring, even through decades of change.
Following Michael Nesmith’s passing in December 2021 at the age of 78, Dolenz—the last surviving member of the iconic quartet—remained mostly quiet, choosing to grieve privately. But in a deeply personal interview with the Los Angeles Times, Micky finally opened up. His words, raw with memory and affection, have left fans around the world moved to tears.
“There was always a part of Nez that seemed to live just outside the boundaries of this world,” Dolenz said. “He was a poet, a philosopher, and a fearless musical explorer. Even when we disagreed creatively, I always respected the world he saw—and how brilliantly he brought it to life.”
Dolenz recalled their final tour together in 2021—just weeks before Michael’s death—as something almost sacred.
“Every night, when the lights went down and the first notes played, I’d glance over at him,” Dolenz said. “He looked tired, but when he sang ‘Papa Gene’s Blues’ or ‘Different Drum,’ there was a light in his eyes. He knew the fans were there not just to hear the songs, but to share a moment. And he gave them everything he had left.”
Behind the scenes, Dolenz shared that Nesmith had grown softer, more reflective. They talked less about fame and more about family, about what truly matters.
“One night, after a show, he just looked at me and said, ‘We did okay, didn’t we?’ And I said, ‘Yeah, Nez. We really did.’ I think that was the goodbye.”
The outpouring of love from fans has comforted Dolenz. But what touched him most were the letters—not just from longtime Monkees devotees, but from younger musicians inspired by Nesmith’s genre-defying vision and quiet depth.
“Mike was never one to chase approval,” Dolenz said. “But he made art that mattered. He told the truth in songs, even when it hurt. That kind of bravery—that’s what stays with you.”
Though he admits that stepping onto a stage without Nesmith feels like “walking through an echo,” Dolenz says he’ll keep singing—for them both.
“I owe him that. We all do.”
In this moving tribute, Micky Dolenz doesn’t just remember a bandmate—he celebrates a friend, a pioneer, a kind soul who helped shape a generation’s soundtrack. And in doing so, he reminds us that while the music fades, the connection endures.