Montrose’s “Let’s Go” – A Hard Rock Punch That Still Hits
Alright, let’s cut the crap. Montrose wasn’t screwing around when they dropped Let’s Go in ’77. This isn’t some soft, overproduced rock album—it’s raw, loud, and straight-up pissed off in all the right ways. Warner Bros slapped their label on it, but this thing screams US hard rock through and through. No gimmicks, no fluff—just pure attitude.
The title track, “Let’s Go (Stereo),” smacks you in the face right outta the gate. It’s like a revved-up muscle car screeching down an empty highway at 2 AM. The riffs are tight, gritty, and unapologetic. Ronnie Montrose knew how to make a guitar wail like it had something to prove, and man, does he deliver here. What sticks with me is that opening riff—it grabs you by the throat and doesn’t let go. You don’t just listen to this track; you feel it rattling your ribs. And yeah, sure, there’s a mono version too if you’re into that old-school vibe, but c’mon, stereo hits different. Feels bigger, nastier, more alive.
Then there’s “Merry-Go-Round,” which flips the script just enough to keep things interesting. If “Let’s Go” is all about brute force, this one sneaks up on you with its groove. The rhythm section locks in so damn tight it feels like they’re daring you to sit still. Spoiler alert: you won’t. There’s a swagger to this song that makes it unforgettable—a mix of cockiness and chaos that perfectly sums up what Montrose was all about. Plus, those solos? Chef’s kiss. They rip through the mix like lightning bolts, leaving scorched earth behind.
Look, I ain’t saying every second of this album will blow your mind, but when it works, it works. Tracks like these remind me why hard rock mattered back then—and hell, why it still should now. In a world full of cookie-cutter playlists and soulless autotune, Let’s Go feels like flipping the bird to mediocrity.
And here’s the kicker: for all its rough edges, this record has staying power. It’s not trying to impress anyone—it just is what it is. Loud, proud, and ready to rumble. Honestly? Listening to this feels like finding a crumpled cigarette pack in your jacket pocket after years. Sure, it’s beat-up and kinda gross, but damn if it doesn’t take you back to better days. Now light up and crank the volume—you’ve been warned.
