— Michael Nesmith
No, the album that Nesmith hated so much was More of the Monkees, the mundanely named followed up to their self-titled debut. Few would agree with him. First, it sold like mad. It replaced its huge-selling predecessor at the top of the American album charts and stayed there for eighteen very long weeks. Fans tend to prefer it too - even if they'd in turn opt for later releases like Headquarters and Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn and Jones Ltd. (I'm less crazy about it but, then again, I'm happy just listening to a decent Monkees' best of rather than any of their studio releases)
Yet, he had a point. As the title suggests, it was little more than a cash grab from their self-titled debut release as well as their hit TV sit com. There are a handful of gems — the garage rock "She" and "(I'm Not Your) Stepping Stone", the Nesmith original "Mary, Mary" — but it is scattered and directionless. Basically, it has everything that made The Monkees so charming as well as what made them mildly irritating. More of the Monkees nevertheless dominated the album charts for the first half of 1967 but the group wasn't putting up with being puppets any longer. Nesmith led the revolt with Mickey Dolenz, Davy Jones and Peter Tork backing him up. Amazingly, the higher ups capitulated - or so they thought.
"A Little Bit Me, a Little Bit You" is a final piece of moronic Monkee pop before the band had their first manager Don Kirshner ousted. In the aftermath of More of the Monkees, their record label had already agreed to allow them a considerable amount of creative control moving forward but Kirshner went against their directive and had this piece of shit released anyway. Making matters worse was the fact that the intended B side, the Nesmith-penned "The Girl I Knew Somewhere" which The Monkees actually played on, ended up being turfed from the Canadian release in favour of Jeff Barry and Ellie Greenwich's "She Hangs Out". (To be fair, they couldn't have been too unhappy with Kirshner's power play since they ended up re-recording "She Hangs Out" for Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn and Jones and ended up having the last laugh in the process by doing far more with it than the studio pros could manage)
Having cheeky chappy Davy Jones on lead for the first time may have been a good way to handle such a passive-aggressive lyric. (For all of his strengths as a rather underrated vocalist, the material wouldn't have suited Mickey Dolenz whose disdain would've shown through) Still, he fails to fully convince that he's making a good faith effort at some middle ground in the face of a crumbling relationship. His case isn't aided by his feigned ignorance ("don't know, just what I said wrong...") nor his condescending "yes, you may have a point" tone ("I'm a little bit wrong and you're a little bit right..."). Jones was the cute one but that only underscores what a nasty song it is. (Also, what was up with them quoting themselves so soon? "We've got things to say" is an obvious nod to their their theme song and if it was clear they were woefully lacking in such depth then, this feeble attempt only confirms it)
Worse, though, is the tune which is hopeless. Just as Tom Ewing has acknowledged that "Mama Mia" is the ABBA song in which the haters at least have a bit of a case, "A Little Bit Me..." is The Monkees' number which best encapsulates the distaste with which they are still held (at least in come circles). If "I'm a Believer" had been a noticeable, if not crippling, step in the wrong direction following "Last Train to Clarksville", their third RPM number one has them falling off a creative cliff. Neil Diamond had written its predecessor and must have been so pleased with it that he didn't do anything different this time round.Those child-like organ parts may have worked the first time but now they grate. The Bo Diddley-esque acoustic guitar that guides it might well be its one real selling point but otherwise this is dismal.
Fortunately, that promised freedom wasn't to be denied The Monkees any longer. Yet, "A Little Bit Me, a Little Bit You" was still yet another massive hit for them. It's counter-intuitive to take a band that was racking up hits and, as Beach Boy Mike Love famously put it, "fuck with the formula" so brazenly but The Monkees almost seemed designed for such bouts of self-sabotage. Don't get me wrong, they made the right decision in siding with Nasmith and his bandmates but it was risky and isn't to be expected of svengalis dealing with a group that they manufactured. Plus, there were still more twists and turns ahead: we're only at the halfway point of The Monkees' incredible, inconsistent and incomprehensible imperial period.
Score: 3
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