In 1967, The Monkees sought to discover what they could accomplish on their own, resulting in their Headquarters album - their first completely self-played record. On top of beginning what I consider the group's golden age, it would prove to be a rebuttal to rock critics and the public that called them a "fake" group. Headquarters is, no doubt, the group's most significant album, and 30 years later The Monkees would seek to recapture the energy of Headquarters on a new studio album - completely self-played, completely self-written, and also their first album with all four Monkees since Head. While the album is arguably even more self-contained than Headquarters, do not let that trick you into thinking Justus is worthwhile. Painfully clean and echo-y production, so slick that you may end up slipping over it, gut punches every single one of these songs - not like many of these were worthwhile in the first place. Bafflingly, Davy Jones has the best songs here with "Oh, What a Night" (Not the Frankie Valli song) and "You and I," a remake of the Dolenz, Jones, Boyce and Hart song from 20 years earlier. The other group members are left out to dry in the sun - Mike's unnecessary retread of "Circle Sky" and his new "Admiral Mike" reek of fake edge, so blunt that it makes "Your Auntie Grizelda" look like top-shelf Who material in comparison. Peter hardly delivers on this, and when he does he might as well not - at least Pool It! had "Gettin' In." Micky is no longer the same dynamic singer that he was in the 60s, and his attempts to try and match it in songs like "Admiral Mike," "Regional Girl," or "Unlucky Stars" are just flat-out embarrassing. Somehow even more disposable than Pool It! ever was. Yeah, I went there.
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Listen to Justus.
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