It was 1986, and MTV was bored. Or maybe they were geniuses. Honestly, it’s hard to tell which one it was when they decided to run a 24-hour marathon of a weird, psychedelic sitcom from the sixties about a band that wasn't technically a band—until they were. That marathon changed everything. Suddenly, "That Was Then, This Is Now" wasn't just a catchy title for a new single; it was the anthem for a generation of kids wearing neon windbreakers who had just discovered Micky, Davy, and Peter.
The Monkees were never supposed to happen twice. By all accounts of music industry logic, they should have stayed buried in the 1960s alongside Nehru jackets and go-go boots. But the 20th anniversary hit, and the world went absolutely nuclear for them. The Monkees That Was Then, This Is Now era represents one of the most improbable second acts in show business. It wasn't just a nostalgia trip. It was a multi-platinum, stadium-filling phenomenon that proved the "Pre-Fab Four" had more staying power than the critics ever wanted to admit.
The MTV Spark and the 1986 Explosion
Before the comeback, the guys were basically doing solo gigs in small clubs or, in Micky Dolenz’s case, directing television in England. They were yesterday's news. Then MTV aired "Pleasant Valley Sunday" during that marathon, and the phone lines at radio stations across America started melting.
It's wild to think about now, but in 1986, The Monkees actually had more albums on the Billboard 200 simultaneously than almost any other artist at the time. We're talking seven albums on the charts at once. Seven. That’s Beatles-level saturation.
But there was a catch. Mike Nesmith, the guy with the wool hat and the serious songwriting chops, wasn't interested. He had his own video production empire and a Grammy for Elephant Parts. He didn't need the money, and he certainly didn't need to put the hat back on. So, Micky, Davy Jones, and Peter Tork had to move forward as a trio. They signed with Arista Records, and Clive Davis—the man who could smell a hit from three miles away—brought in songwriters like Vance Brescia to give them a modern edge.
The result was "That Was Then, This Is Now." It sounded nothing like "Daydream Believer." It had that big, gated-reverb drum sound typical of the mid-eighties, shimmering synths, and a music video that felt like a frantic fever dream of old clips and new footage.
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Why That Was Then, This Is Now Hit So Hard
The song worked because it acknowledged the passage of time without being depressing. It was meta.
Think about the lyrics for a second. It's essentially a song about moving on from the past, yet it was being used to sell the past back to us. That irony wasn't lost on the fans. The track peaked at number 20 on the Billboard Hot 100, which is an insane achievement for a legacy act in an era dominated by Madonna and Prince.
People forget how much work went into that 1986 tour. They played over 145 dates. It was grueling. They were playing to screaming teenagers who weren't even born when the show was cancelled in 1968, plus the original fans who were now bringing their own kids.
The Missing Piece: Where was Mike?
Everyone asked about Mike Nesmith. Every interview, every press conference. The "That Was Then, This Is Now" period is often defined by his absence, which created a strange tension. Peter, Micky, and Davy were out there doing the heavy lifting, proving they could carry the brand.
Nesmith did eventually show up for a single encore at the Greek Theatre in Los Angeles in September '86. The crowd lost their minds. It was a validation. It signaled that even if he wasn't "in" the band for the long haul, he respected what they were doing.
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The Sound of the Eighties Meet the Sixties
Musically, the Then & Now... The Best of The Monkees compilation was a masterclass in marketing. It gave new fans the hits they’d seen on MTV but tucked three new studio tracks at the end.
- "That Was Then, This Is Now": The lead single that became a radio staple.
- "Anytime, Anyplace, Anywhere": A power-pop track that felt very much of its time.
- "Mmm, Mmm, Mmm": A somewhat forgettable but harmless addition.
The production on the new tracks was handled by Alan Goldberg. If you listen to them today, they sound incredibly dated—that's the "This Is Now" part. But the "That Was Then" part, the 1960s recordings, still sounded fresh. This contrast created a weird bridge between generations.
Honestly, the 1986 comeback changed the way the industry looked at "old" bands. It paved the way for the massive classic rock tours of the nineties. It proved that a brand—especially one built on television—could be revived if the timing was right.
Misconceptions About the "Pre-Fab" Label
One thing that still bugs people who really know their music history is the "they didn't play their instruments" argument. During the 1986 tour, they absolutely played. Sure, they had a backing band (The Peter Noone-led Tremeloes even opened for them at one point), but Micky was on drums, Peter was on keys and banjo, and Davy was handling percussion.
By the time they recorded "That Was Then, This Is Now," they had spent twenty years defending their musicality. This era was their victory lap. They weren't just actors playing a band anymore. They were a band that had survived the Hollywood machine.
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The Legacy of the 1986 Renaissance
Looking back from 2026, the 1986 reunion feels like the moment The Monkees finally got their flowers. Before that, they were a footnote or a joke to rock critics like those at Rolling Stone. After that, people started taking the songwriting of Boyce and Hart, Carole King, and Neil Diamond (who wrote for them) more seriously.
The success of the single "That Was Then, This Is Now" led directly to the 1987 album Pool It!. Now, if we’re being real, Pool It! isn't a great record. It tried too hard to be "modern." But it wouldn't have existed without the massive momentum of the year before.
It’s also the reason we got the 1996 reunion Justus, where all four members (including Mike) played every single instrument on the album. They wanted to prove once and for all they could do it. The 1986 explosion gave them the leverage to demand that kind of creative control later on.
What You Can Learn from The Monkees' Second Act
The story of the Monkees in the mid-eighties is a lesson in brand resilience. It tells us that quality content—in this case, a brilliantly produced TV show and incredible pop songwriting—can lay dormant for decades and still catch fire.
If you’re a fan looking to dive deeper into this specific era, there are a few things you should actually do:
- Track down the music video: Find the original "That Was Then, This Is Now" video. It’s a time capsule of 1986 aesthetics mixed with 1966 energy.
- Listen to the live recordings: There are plenty of bootlegs and official releases from the '86 tour. The energy is vastly different from their 1967 live shows; it’s more polished, but the vocals are surprisingly strong.
- Check out the "New Monkees": If you want a laugh, look up the "New Monkees" project that was launched around the same time to capitalize on the craze. It failed miserably because it lacked the chemistry of Micky, Davy, Peter, and Mike. It proves you can't just manufacture the magic twice with different people.
The Monkees taught us that "now" eventually becomes "then," but if the songs are good enough, "then" can always become "now" again. They defied the "sell-by" date of pop stardom. They showed that you don't have to stay in the box the critics put you in. Most importantly, they reminded everyone that at the end of the day, it was always about the fun.
To truly appreciate this era, you have to stop comparing them to the Beatles and start looking at them as the pioneers of the multimedia superstar model. They were the blueprint for everything from Big Time Rush to Gorillaz. The 1986 comeback was the moment the blueprint was finally validated by the public, millions of dollars in ticket sales, and a hit song that still holds up as a piece of pure, unadulterated pop joy.