Michael Nesmith with The Monkees at the Ryman, 7/24/2013
Editor’s note: Master pedal-steel player and historian Pete Finney performed extensively with Nesmith, who died Friday at age 78. Finney was kind enough to offer us this remembrance of his friend and bandmate.
Robert Michael “Nez” Nesmith was an incredibly bright, vibrant, multi-faceted human being — a “bona fide pop-culture polymath,” in the words of a recent profile in Vanity Fair — so it’s been gratifying to see the recent outpouring of writing that includes so many little-known particulars of his life beyond The Monkees. Since Nesmith’s passing on Friday there have been a number of well-written pieces that detail what an interesting and influential life he had, and likely both the true fans and the merely curious have encountered some of that writing by this point.
So this is not that kind of general look back at Nesmith’s life, but rather a few personal observations in tribute to a friend, colleague, boss and musical soul-mate. After years as a fan and lifelong working musician, and more recently a part-time music-historian, for the past four or five years I have been Nesmith’s pedal-steel playing sidekick, with both the revived version of his long-dormant cosmic-country project The First National Band and with the recent incarnation of The Monkees that featured Nesmith and Micky Dolenz.
Anybody who spent any time with Nesmith quickly became aware of his deep intelligence, his incredibly wide range of knowledge and interests, and his quick wit. It was hard not to be taken in by the obvious passion he showed for so many topics, even during his wildest, most fanciful flights of conversation. And there were many of those!
One of Nez’s most long-lasting passions was the pedal-steel guitar; he owned several and had played a bit himself on some early Monkees sessions. Without a doubt the most significant musical figure in Nesmith’s long post-Monkee career was pedal-steel guitarist Orville “Red” Rhodes. Red’s pedal steel was the dominant musical voice throughout Nesmith’s prolific country-tinged period that began in the ’70s, and he and Nez were good pals.
In more recent years I got to play a few shows with Nesmith here and there and we hit it off right away, onstage and off. Not surprisingly, a lot of our conversations were about Red and the music they’d made together. So to get the call from Nez in 2017 asking if I would be interested in filling Red’s very large shoes in the new First National Band Redux that he was forming was both thrilling and daunting.
Michael Nesmith with The Monkees at the Ryman, 7/24/2013
Nesmith’s symbiotic relationship with Red through the years and his love of the pedal-steel were part of the context for every show we played together. It was never about mimicry, though of course some of Red’s musical creations were a part of the fabric of the songs. Rather it was about encouraging the freedom to create and take chances, to get out on a musical limb night after night in the spirit that Nesmith and Red embodied together through the years. That musical trust and mutual respect was a living, breathing part of Nez and Red’s legacy for me until the end, even on the more structured Monkees shows. I’ve never really known that level of enthusiasm and support before, and will always treasure the memories of the many shows we played together.
The long Monkees tour we just finished a few weeks ago was an emotional roller-coaster for all of us. Nesmith could still be a delight to be around of course, but there was no mistaking that age, his heart issues and the multiple stresses of the pandemic had taken a substantial toll on him since we’d last toured in Australia in 2019. But he seemed to get soul sustenance from performing with Micky Dolenz again, from his interactions with the band and crew, and especially from the energy and obvious love of the crowds.
By the end of the tour we were all delighted that he seemed so much more focused, healthy and happy than when we started. The trademark twinkle in his eye and infectious smile had returned. Needless to say, this made his sudden passing that much more of a shock.
“The Monkees Farewell Tour.” That simple, almost mundane phrase now seems all too poignant in its heartbreaking accuracy. RIP, Michael Nesmith, my friend.
