Rediscover the Dreamy Echoes of the 60s: “Love Is Only Sleeping” by The Monkees (1967)
In the sprawling, kaleidoscopic landscape of late 1960s popular music, The Monkees carved out a unique place — sometimes misunderstood, often underappreciated, yet undeniably influential. Their 1967 track, “Love Is Only Sleeping”, serves as a striking example of the group’s evolving musical ambitions beyond their early commercial image. Far more than a bubblegum pop band assembled for television, The Monkees — particularly by the time of their fourth album, Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn & Jones Ltd. — were actively exploring the more introspective and experimental corners of the era’s sonic offerings.
Originally intended as the opening track to that seminal album, “Love Is Only Sleeping” stands as a compelling demonstration of The Monkees’ shift toward psychedelic rock — a genre that encouraged distortion, dreamlike lyrics, and unconventional structures. From the song’s opening with its swirling guitar lines and the haunting reverberation of the keyboards, there is an instant atmosphere of unspoken tension, perfectly punctuated by Michael Nesmith’s commanding yet nuanced vocal performance. Nesmith’s delivery carries a world-weariness tinged with curiosity, ensuring the song resonates not just aurally but emotionally.
Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn & Jones Ltd., released in November 1967, marked one of the high points in The Monkees’ artistic journey. Collaborating with songwriters Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil — no strangers to the Top 40 charts — this particular song is layered with lyrical complexity. The title itself, “Love Is Only Sleeping”, evokes notions of dormancy, illusion, and awakening. It’s not a conventional love song, nor is it meant to be. Rather, it suggests a quiet pause in a relationship, a moment of introspection where feelings are not gone but simply withheld — waiting, perhaps, for the right moment to re-emerge.
At its core, the song wrestles with the nature of connection and hesitation. The lyrics skirt mysticism yet remain rooted in human doubt and contemplation. Musically, it draws from the textures of West Coast rock, tinged with slight echoes of folk and the emerging psychedelic movement. What makes it all the more fascinating is how the arrangement walks a careful line between refinement and experimentation — accessible yet daring.
For those who only know The Monkees from their early hits like “I’m a Believer” or “Daydream Believer”, “Love Is Only Sleeping” offers an entirely different perspective. It’s a song that challenges assumptions about the band, demonstrating that they were more than capable of matching the creative output of their contemporaries, from The Byrds to even The Beatles, with whom they once shared enthusiastic comparisons.
In revisiting this song in the 21st century, one cannot help but be struck by its lingering relevance. The themes of emotional ambiguity, introspection, and the transient nature of understanding remain as poignant today as they did over half a century ago. Far from being a footnote in their discography, “Love Is Only Sleeping” arguably represents the deeper soul of The Monkees — reflective, searching, and undeniably human.