For Micky Dolenz, music wasn’t just a career—it was a calling that began in the chaos of the 1960s and never let go. As the charismatic voice and drummer of The Monkees, he helped redefine what pop music could be: witty, experimental, unorthodox—and wildly beloved. But even at the height of Monkeemania, there were artists he looked up to with awe. And none more than The Beatles.
So when Micky Dolenz first met Paul McCartney, he didn’t just meet a fellow musician. He met a living legend. A man whose melodies had already shaped a generation—and whose quiet genius reminded Micky of something far deeper.
“It was like meeting Mozart,” Dolenz said in a quiet moment during a 2023 interview. “Not just because of his fame, but because of the way his brain worked. You could see it behind his eyes—he was always writing, even in silence.”
The encounter happened in the late ’60s, after The Monkees had gained unexpected credibility from their experimental album Headquarters, and Micky had begun frequenting the same creative circles as the British Invasion giants. The setting was casual—a party in London, full of cigarette smoke, impromptu jam sessions, and laughter echoing off studio walls. But the moment McCartney walked in, everything shifted.
“I remember thinking, that guy is carrying something invisible,” Micky recalled. “Some people bring energy when they walk into a room. Paul brought harmony. He had a presence that wasn’t loud or demanding. It was… magnetic.”
The two chatted about music, songwriting, the madness of touring. McCartney complimented Micky on his vocal work in Pleasant Valley Sunday. Micky—who had grown up idolizing The Beatles—was stunned by the kindness and sincerity. “He wasn’t trying to be Paul McCartney of The Beatles. He was just Paul. Curious. Generous. Funny.”
Years later, as Micky grew older and watched many of his peers fade from the limelight or leave the world altogether, that first meeting with McCartney remained vivid. Not because of what was said—but because of what was felt.
“I realized later it wasn’t just about meeting someone famous,” Micky said. “It was about seeing greatness up close and realizing it doesn’t have to shout. It can whisper. It can smile. It can be humble.”
The two would cross paths occasionally in the years that followed—at award shows, charity events, backstage moments. And though they never became close friends, the respect ran deep.
Now, as the last surviving member of The Monkees, Dolenz often reflects not only on the wild, surreal ride of his youth, but on the people who helped shape it. And McCartney—still touring, still creating, still redefining what it means to age with grace—remains, in Micky’s eyes, the standard.
“He’s proof that genius and kindness can coexist,” Micky said. “And that if you’re lucky, once in your life, you might get to meet someone who reminds you why you fell in love with music in the first place.”
For Micky Dolenz, that someone was Paul McCartney. And that moment?
“It was like meeting Mozart.”