By the mid-1970s, The Monkees were kind of a figment of the past - each member had gone their own separate ways, to mixed success. Even still, by the middle of the decade, talks between the former members started up, as reunion discussions began. Ultimately, Peter and Mike lost interest - they desired to do something new, which didn't mesh with Davy and Micky's ideas. What we got, though, was pretty close to a Monkees reunion, but instead of Peter and Mike, we got Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart, who had written many of The Monkees' hits. The resulting psuedo-reunion album is essentially a continuum of where the group last left off - really, see this album as a sequel to Changes, but maybe with even less of a punch. The same pop that Boyce and Hart were writing for the group doesn't quite hit the same ten years after the fact, and the album itself is stewed in cheese at points. You won't find anything offensively terrible here, but if you're looking for golden hits from the guys who wrote 'em and the guys who sang 'em, you're not getting 'em here.
Davy and Micky are typically strong singers, but I'm gonna break the news to you right now - let's peel off the band-aid before it hurts worse. Boyce and Hart are not particularly great singers. No wonder they're mostly relegated to background singing here, because while they can dribble out the right notes, they aren't nearly as suited for pop as the former duo is. What do I mean? Listen to "I Love You (And I'm Glad That I Said It)" and you'll hear exactly what I mean. Even when they, wisely, give Micky or Davy the microphone, the quality of the songs is rarely here - I couldn't tell you if Boyce and Hart were creatively spent or not, but moments like "Along Came Jones" certainly makes that sound like the case. Even more enjoyable moments like the horridly cheesy "Teenager in Love" don't match up to their previous work, even if they are damn-catchy - listen to the steel drums on this shit. Wow. Maybe it could've worked better back on their first two albums, but they weren't 20 anymore.
If you can somehow peel back the almost-nauseating layers of cheese on this album, you will be rewarded with some good numbers. "It Always Hurts More in the Morning" is, from what I can tell, one of the more enduring tunes on the album, and the palpable hook is probably a good case as to why. If the rest of the album sounded like this, maybe things wouldn't be so bad. The rocking "I Remember the Feeling," outside of being the best song on the album, also makes a damn-good penultimate track. What can I say? Davy can rock - I just wish he did it more on actual Monkees albums. The "Moonfire" track that opens the second half isn't half-bad, but it doesn't quite compare to the aforementioned tracks, playing more like Boyce and Hart trying to grab from Nilsson - jumping into the moonfire won't make you free, by the way.
By most measurements, Dolenz, Jones, Boyce & Hart is a pretty earnest attempt to get together, make some music, and have fun doing it. With that being said, it's incredibly telling that for the accompanying tour with this album, most of the set list was made up of previous Monkees hits. The resulting album is largely throwaway pop music, with most of it being far too boring to really justify the magnetic tape used to record the thing. DJBH mostly plays like a Monkees midlife crisis record, ten years before we got the actual midlife crisis record with Pool It! Alas, that's for next time. Perhaps this album best shows why Boyce and Hart largely stuck to writing songs instead of performing them. Final verdict? Needs country rock tunes.
RATING: ✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯
Listen to Dolenz, Jones, Boyce & Hart.
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