Call them what you will: the “pre-fab” four, music’s answer to the Marx Brothers, or the greatest hoax in rock history. But no matter how much the entertainment industry likes to make The Monkees the butt of every joke, here are the facts: these four gentlemen scored six top ten hits in two years, generated millions in album sales, and even outsold the Beatles in 1967. Their seminal album Headquarters spent the Summer of Love sitting solidly in the #2 position on the Billboard charts (knocked out of #1 by a little album called Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band).

Today, Micky Dolenz, Peter Tork, and Davy Jones are just about finished with a nationwide tour to mark the 45th anniversary of the television-show-turned-bonafide-band. (Michael Nesmith, my personal favorite Monkee, is not on the tour, and has not performed with the others in over a decade.)

Last night, I was fortunate enough to witness what may have been the last opportunity to see the Threekees – as they’re lovingly called – in action. I first saw them perform on their 35th anniversary jaunt; twice in fact. As a major Monkeemaniac, I begged my mother to take me to their Columbus show, only to be stricken with a case of the flu and, though I went, I can hardly remember anything as a result of my feverish haze. Then, at a concert in a lakefront airport parking lot in downtown Cleveland, a wicked storm blew out the back of the stage and forced tiny Davy Jones to grip the bass drum for his life.

Needless to say, I was grateful for one more chance.

Over the years, Dolenz, Jones and Tork have all been involved in their own various projects: Dolenz recently completed a stint in the London West End production of “Hairspray,” Tork fronts his own pop-blues combo Shoe Suede Blues, and Jones is still out on the road, though these days he may be just as famous for his May-December marriage as he is for the Monkees. (Did you see those two on “Dr. Phil”? Honestly.)

Onstage, though they gel together surprisingly well for three guys who really only worked together exclusively for about two years, each Monkee struts his stuff in his own way.

Micky Dolenz is arguably one of the greatest voices in pop music and can belt out a tune like no one’s business. Though he fell into the “actor” category at the start of “The Monkees” – Nesmith and Tork were the seasoned musicians – it’s obvious that over the four decades, he has crossed over and personified, and even adopted, his “Micky” role. Last night, to my great delight, he played drums on a dozen or so songs of the set. Not bad if you consider that when he was cast for the show, he’d never even picked up a drumstick.

Peter Tork, the first to quit the “group” back in the ’60s, now proves why he was vital to the success of both the show and the band: the man is a virtuoso. Over the course of the evening, he performed on guitar, keyboards, banjo and even french horn. Not to mention that he took over Nesmith’s singing duties on “Papa Gene’s Blues,” and contributed his own wacky “Auntie Grizelda” to the set list. He was also, sadly, relegated back to his Monkees “dummy” role in the highly-scripted stage banter between the three. But it’s okay; not even the corny jokes could distract from his true talent.

And Davy Jones. Say what you want about the guy, but the entertainment world would have never been the same had he chased his teenage dream of becoming a jockey in England. This man was born to be on a stage. He loves the crowd and he knows that crowd loves him. Performing is obviously the reason why he was put on this tortured planet. During “Someday Man,” a semi-unknown Monkees single (and one of my favorite songs), between his shuffling, almost-Vaudevillian antics, was a sincere moment, in which he paused in an almost reflective stance as he sang “tomorrow’s a new day, baby/anything could happen, anything could happen at all.”

The Monkees today: Tork, Jones, and Dolenz

But the Threekees aren’t alone in this venture. An eight-piece band provides the signature sounds, from synthesizers to horns. Many of the members come from the individual touring bands of the three, creating a kind of “best of the best.” To call them a backing band would be remiss, since the band works just as hard to time-travel the audience as the Monkees do. In fact, the show begins with an instrumental medley of Monkees songs against a video montage of television show clips and photographs. From that moment on, the crowd is ready for Monkeemania.

The Monkees are also joined by the spirits of the endless parade of hit songwriters that provided them with their hits and, indeed, their fame. All three are quick to give credit where credit is due and did so several times during the show, honoring Neil Sedaka, Carole King, Gerry Goffin, and Neil Diamond, among many others. They even tipped a hat to their missing comrade, Michael Nesmith, featuring him in video clips while performing his “Listen to the Band” in the encore.

But one can’t help but realize while watching the production that this is probably It. The last chance to see Dolenz, Jones and Tork together on the road. I mean, 45 years is a long time for anyone, but for a musical outfit, it’s practically unheard of. And I’m not talking about one of those psuedo-acts that calls themselves “The Temptations” and uses only one second-generation background singer as its credibility factor. These guys are the real deal.

So, if this is to be the Threekees’ last outing, that leaves one question: what is the legacy of the Monkees, at least as a band? The show will obviously live on forever, undated by its humor and ability to captivate all generations. But I think the members of the group – Nesmith included – would like the Monkees to be remembered just as much for their contributions to music as to television.

If this “final tour” proves anything, it’s that the Monkees were a viable touring band, could hold their own onstage and, even if they weren’t at the start in 1966, have transformed into bonafide musicians. They are as much a part of pop music history as any group in the 1960s, and deserve the recognition that they have long been denied (ahem, Rock and Roll Hall of Fame). They were groundbreakers, innovators who changed the pop landscape in so many ways, from music to marketing to merchandising.

And so, I think – or, I hope – that the legacy of the Monkees will not be JUST as a touring band or JUST as a television show, but as a full operation, the whole package. After all, the entertainment industry today would have been a vastly different scene had the Monkees never popped up. They changed everything, and there’s certainly nothing “pre-fab” about that.

Jump under the cut for the Monkees’ setlist from July 21, 2011 at Coney Island, NY.

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