Published on Nov 25, 2002
The parting of ways between founding lead vocalist Sammy Hagar
and bandleader Ronnie Montrose at the end of Montrose’s 1974
Paper Money tour was a significant blow to the band. Two
albums into a promising career, remaining members Montrose
(guitar), Alan Fitzgerald (bass) and Denny Carmassi (drums) had to
regroup and, to some degree, re-establish the pioneering hard rock
band’s identity.
Montrose responded by adding not one, but two new members, Jim
Alcivar on keyboards and debuting lead vocalist Bob James. The
ensuing album, purposefully titled
Warner Bros. Presents, suggested this was in fact a new and
different band from that heard on the first two Montrose albums, to
be approached with fresh eyes and ears.
The difference is obvious from the opening bars of the leadoff
cut, the heavy, almost ominous “Matriarch.” The first two albums’
rich, wide-open production has been replaced by a dense, somewhat
flattened-out sound whose gothic overtones are reinforced by
Alcivar’s prominent organ work. For a band that often mentioned
Deep Purple as a major influence, this was the first cut in their
repertoire that sounds like it could actually have been recorded by
Ritchie Blackmore, Jon Lord and company.
The second cut promptly demonstrates that Ronnie Montrose’s
perpetual quest not to be pigeonholed continues, as the lighter,
more pop-flavored “All I Need” features James crooning sweet
nothings to a lover, at least until the synthesizer/guitar bridge
takes the song in a completely unexpected direction. “Twenty Flight
Rock” follows with a blast of Montrose-style good old-fashioned
rock and roll, albeit embellished with Montrose’s fabulously
foot-stomping guitar lines and a sizzling solo.
Much of the rest of the album follows in the footsteps of this
unlikely trio. “Dancin’ Feet” is a guitar-shredding piece of party
rock. “Black Train” is a “Matriarch”-style pounder with Dio-esque
mythical lyrics. “O Lucky Man” is a pleasant-enough slice of
melodic rock whose clumsily earnest lyric echoes that of “All I
Need.” “One and a Half” is perhaps the lone standout, a trilling,
gorgeous acoustic piece on which Ronnie Montrose previews his later
solo guitar explorations.
Despite some bright spots, this uneven album suffers from a lack
of focus, and James’ distinctly uncharismatic performance.
Montrose’s powerful guitar work and another strong turn from
Carmassi simply aren’t enough to overcome James’ cliched lyrics and
bland vocals. After this album failed to spark with the audience
created by the band’s first two efforts, they were down to their
last chance in this incarnation.