In 1982, seven years after the group disbanded, and three years after he recorded his solo album Uprooted, Rob Grill reactivated the Grass Roots with three new musicians and cut this album, which must be tied with its predecessor, The Grass Roots on the Haven label, as the most obscure album in the group's output. That's a genuine pity, as the record has lots of very good moments and is far more polished and successful than Uprooted -- one can only imagine that, beyond any role that the relative weakness of MCA at the time played in its failure (this reviewer scarcely saw or heard a word printed about the album or its release), it died an absolute death in the MTV-dominated environment of 1982-1983, as many worthwhile records did. The album opens with a title track that's a little bit too much of a by-the-numbers power pop exercise, but from there we move through some nicely soul-flavored pop/rock with lots of hooks, vocal, and instrumental -- the guitars, in particular, are memorable and Grill is in excellent voice almost everywhere, and the selection of material is stronger than most of what is on Uprooted. Given the large number of session musicians who participated on the Grass Roots' most famous recordings, there seems to be little point in pondering who's doing the backup singing behind Grill or playing some of what we hear; on the other hand, it does seem to be a great showcase for Terry Oubre's guitar work. And the results are consistently appealing, if not groundbreaking -- actually, a lot like the group's best work of the '60s. There were at least three potential singles on this album, which marked just about the last time that the Grass Roots were anything but an oldies act, redoing their vintage hits either on-stage or in the studio. One wishes it were a little better known on that basis, as well as a pretty good place for this band to have stopped making new music. ~ Bruce Eder, All Music Guide
The Grass Roots charted 14 times with ABC Dunhill. Three years after their last chart action, producers Dennis Lambert, Brian Potter, and (in an arranging capacity here) Michael Omartian gave singer Rob Grill a platform. The good news is that it works much better than Uprooted, the highly dysfunctional "solo" album that had much promise and little substance. At least "Optical Illusion" is as hooky and commercial as the latter-day Grass Roots hits like "Two Divided by Love" and "Sooner or Later." Lambert & Potter crafted a typical '70s pop song, but it is fun, and more in tune than the cover of Holland/Dozier/Holland's "Something About You," which backfires while starting this album off. "Out in the Open" and "I Wanna Slow Dance Again" sound very much like Hamilton, Joe Frank & Reynolds -- schmaltzy, but not unbearable. The performance of Randy Newman's "Naked Man" really is a stretch and might have been better-suited for the Uprooted solo affair. John Travolta/Tony Orlando haircuts adorn the group photo on the back cover, while the front looks like one of those generic bargain basement releases. A section of what looks like farmland is cut away showing tree roots, declaring an image problem for the band and this album. The world didn't need another version of "Up on the Roof," but it is one of the better tracks on The Grass Roots, though it exposes Rob Grill's lack of vocal personality. "It's a Cryin' Shame" is another sharp, classic Grass Roots-style song, and like "Optical Illusion," is perfectly crafted pop by Lambert & Potter. "The Last Time Around" falls flat, and was written by Dennis Provisor, who contributed four songs to the 1979 release Uprooted. There are two songs by Barry Mann & Cynthia Weil: the ready-for-TV "Nothing Good Comes Easy," which sounds like a Bobby Sherman hit from Here Comes the Brides, and "Mamacita," which concludes the album. It's an off-color south-of-the-border style take-off on Abba by way of Jay & the Americans. It's homogenized stuff with few surprises. ~ Joe Viglione, All Music Guide
Given that they were perceived as being long past their prime, the appropriately titled Alotta Mileage (the group's seventh album) is a truly astonishing album to have come from the Grass Roots in 1973 -- nothing groundbreaking or revelatory, to be sure, but the first side of Alotta Mileage is a fine, smooth, delightfully hook-laden and beautifully produced body of soulful pop music. The vocalizing by Rob Grill and the playing by -- well, who knows, as the group was always relying on session musicians -- are first-rate, and the songs are catchy and executed spot-on, with a wide variety of sounds from solo acoustic guitar to horn-accompanied choruses in all the right spots. In one respect, it's no surprise that the group could still deliver like this on record, what with veteran members Grill and Warren Entner sharing the production chores alongside co-founder/original co-producer Steve Barri. Between them, they wrote the book on the group's post-1967 sound. Sad to say, side two is a bit less successful, as the material isn't as strong; most of what's there is predictable, by-the-numbers pop-soul, and the one minor chart single off the album, "Love Is What You Make It," sounds too much like a warmed-over Partridge Family leftover. But the fact that two-thirds of this record is as good as it is will be a pleasant treat to anyone who tracks it down. The other amazing element of this release is the wretched cover art -- Dunhill either had the worst art department in the business or someone there felt it was appropriate to go through the motions of doing his or her job: in place of anything indicating that this is a soul-based rock album by a band with more than a dozen hit singles to its credit, there is an image of footwear on the cover. Record buyers in 1973 could almost be forgiven for ignoring it in droves, but the record label deserved to go out of business (which it did a little later) if this is how it treated its new releases. ~ Bruce Eder, All Music Guide
The final three Top 40 hits for the Grass Roots materialize on Move Along, a consistent album under the aegis of original co-producer Steve Barri with the band's future producers Dennis Lambert and Brian Potter writing two of the new hits. Slick arrangements and big production eliminate the charm of the earlier recordings, where P.F. Sloan and Steve Barri gave the group a nice mixture of the frosting poured atop once folky Simon & Garfunkel tracks by Clive Davis and the Top 40 shine Mickey Most gave to Herman's Hermits. That Sloan and Barri worked on Peter Noone's Hold On movie soundtrack, including their composition "A Must to Avoid" and an earlier version of "Where Were You When I Needed You," is a little proof of how they steered the original Grassroots. Peter Noone hit in January of 1966 with his Sloan/Barri material, the Grassroots in July of that year. The name evolved to separate the two words, becoming The Grass Roots, and six years on this very formula album has little surprise and none of the sparkle of the Sloan/Barri days, but it is not without merit. "Two Divided By Love" was a nice sequel to "Sooner or Later," which was a nice sequel to "Temptation Eyes," but the formula needed reshuffling. "The Runway," a variation on "The Letter" theme, is a clone of "Two Divided By Love"; it charted nine months after "Two Divided By Love," with the final track on this album, "Glory Bound," hitting the Top 40 in between (in March of 1972). The big hook of "Glory Bound" sounds like a precursor to latter-day '70s pop, surprising in that it has elements of what Lambert/Potter would bring to the Righteous Brothers in 1974, but this particular tune was the one co-write by Steve Barri, a departure from the cleverness he brought to earlier material. It's a far cry from Barri's "Things I Should Have Said," and that's the problem with Move Along. Where the fun of the early hits was their diversity and ingenuity, one can't help but get the feeling that this is an excellent bar band that somehow got a recording contract. Dennis Provisor wrote or co-wrote six of the 11 tracks, including "Glory Bound," and he just doesn't have the spirit that Sloan/Barri or Lambert/Potter provide. The difference is staggering. It's not to say that a tune like "Runnin' Just to Get Her Home Again" by Warren Entner and Dennis Provisor is that bad, but when one realizes that Entner would be managing Quiet Riot a decade later, Move Along is to the first Grassroots album what the latter-day Mystery album by Vanilla Fudge was to their original disc: a departure from the thing that made the band so significant in the first place. Dennis Provisor is not even given credit on the back of the album, though his contribution here was as pivotal as singer Rob Grill and guitarist Warren Entner. A better offering than the self-titled album for Haven/Capitol, and Grill is in better voice than on his solo effort, Uprooted. Had they sought songs with the durability of "The River Is Wide" or the charm of "Bella Linda," it would have been a plus with the three hits included here, and could have insured a better place in rock history for this interesting and still listenable project. ~ Joe Viglione, All Music Guide
"I'd Wait a Million Years" went Top 15 for the Grass Roots in August of 1969, and as they tracked the rest of this album in September, they had the luxury of knowing it would contain at least one hit. The session men aren't listed as they were on other albums by this usually formula group, and the disc, Leavin' It All Behind, actually feels like a cohesive album by a real band, no doubt an important goal for these men -- achieving their own identity. Guitarist Creed Bratton had made his exit by this point, so the guitar chores were left up to rhythm guitarist and future Quiet Riot manager Warren Entner, with Dennis Provisor joining the crew on piano and organ, maintaining the four-piece unit, at least on the surface. Dennis Provisor is given the lead vocal chores on his two songs, "Take Him While You Can" and "Walking Through the Country," and though he's proficient, he lacks Rob Grill's style . "Take Him While You Can" is a fine production job by Barri, but the song goes nowhere; ditto for "Walking Through the Country." Drummer Rick Coonce also gets to pen and sing a title himself, a countrified rip-off of the Beatles' "I'll Cry Instead," and it's rather odd, almost like the Beatles having Ringo do a track, though Coonce doesn't have the personality or vocal charm to pull it off. As stated, the Steve Barri production on this recording, especially on the two hits, is superb. The Price/Walsh composition "Heaven Knows" was a delightful follow-up to "Wait a Million Years," a Top 25 hit to close out the year. Rob Grill, of course, does the majority of the vocals, including the other Harvey Price/Dan Walsh composition that leads off side one, "I'm Livin' for You Girl." Though it is admirable to see the band writing more, it was Steve Barri's pen which meant so much to this group. He only co-writes one song, "Melinda Love," with Grill and Entner, while future producers Dennis Lambert and Brian Potter contribute "Out of This World" for Entner and Grill to sing on. Kenny Nolan hit with "I Like Dreaming" in 1976. Seven years earlier, Rob Grill performed Nolan's "Back to Dreaming Again," a sentiment that sounds like a sequel to his hit from the future. Unlike their contemporaries the Guess Who, there was no dominant personality here like Burton Cummings and Randy Bachman to focus on, so the material became the primary force. "I'm Living for You" is pleasant enough, and the Kenny Nolan tune is actually bright pop and fun, not as maudlin as Nolan's own hits. The strings swell up behind the simple beach party lyrics, proving this band quite adept at interpreting outside material, something that was their strength. Perhaps it is that conflict, that they were so good at doing that Three Dog Night thing -- finding other people's songs, Albert Hammond and Richard Podolor adding another dimension to the 1967 Feelings album, just two examples -- that created a balancing act hard for a group with more serious aspirations to maintain. The Lambert/Potter tune had hit potential; it's the difference between Rick Coonce having fun on his country episode or the act getting down to business and crafting great pop music. Leavin' It All Behind is an interesting band album, but had they stayed on the track that labelmates Three Dog Night did so well with, they might've had success deep into the '70s. "Melinda Love" is more on target, but it has what the other band songs seem to be missing: the contributions of Steve Barri. The dichotomy here is that the act does a decent job holding their own writing and singing, but excel when given direction and songs that matter. It's all very interesting, but why bother when their "Greatest Hits" albums are what truly satisfy? An interesting lyric sheet is enclosed, including seven of the songs on the record, lyrics to a Warren Entner tune advertised on the back cover, but not on the vinyl, a tune called "Hold On to What You Got," as well as lyrics to four of their previous hits. ~ Joe Viglione, All Music Guide
True to form, Lovin' Things, the fourth album by the Grass Roots, contains another nugget in "The River Is Wide," a tremendous pop tune fusing a mainstream '60s sound with Phil Spector innovations. It's a wonderful Steve Barri production, their sixth hit record, and a song as brilliant as any of their first seven that hit the Top 40. Like labelmates Three Dog Night, this crew found great songs when producer Steve Barri and his former partner, P.F. Sloan, weren't writing them for the group. Unlike Three Dog Night, though, the band didn't pack an album with outside material poised for Top 40, and Lovin' Things is a perfect example of the two sides of this group. Larry Knechtel, Hal Blaine, Joe Osborn, and other name session folk are no doubt on the first two songs -- the title track, "Lovin' Things," and the hit, "The River Is Wide." Both songs carry big sound and great Rob Grill vocals, Warren Entner adding his fine voice to "The River Is Wide" as well, and though it was the fourth weakest of their 14 hits, it's still one of their best. There are two originals from guitarist Warren Entner and singer Grill, the enjoyable "(You Gotta) Live for Love" and a very interesting "Fly Me to Havana." "Havana" works because the band puts a Ray Davies/Kinks riff from "Till the End of the Day" into a mix with guitar sounds straight from the Count Five's "Psychotic Reaction." Consider that had the band issued more of this highly regarded '60s sound along with their slick radio hits, they would have crossed over to the realm where music by the Seeds and Chocolate Watchband continues to dwell: sacred territory. Though P.F. Sloan was gone by this point, they do cover two of his songs, "City Women" and "I Can't Help But Wonder, Elisabeth," as well as a Sloan/Barri title, "Baby, You Do It So Well." P.F. Sloan himself became an enigmatic minor-league Brian Wilson, in more ways than one, and adds a hipness that should make these albums more cherished in collectors circles than they are. Bob Mann's song "Pain" ends side one, and dramatically different from the group's material, as well as the Sloan and Barri stuff, it adds yet another dimension to this quirky made-for-record-company group. Let's face it, the Grass Roots were an effort by Dunhill Records to create a kind of Monkees without a television show, music produced to climb the Top 40. There's nothing wrong with that. In fact, despite the crass commercialism behind the Monkees, the band developed their own pop legacy from years of touring after their hit show. The problem with the Grass Roots was that they could have taken the original business plan and used it as a platform to become a very hip and very chic item. Just listen to the Gordon/Grant tune "I'm So Excited," which starts off side two, then play Ian Hunter's song of the same name which ends side two of his debut solo album six years after this in 1975. It's the exact melody opening each chorus, only Mick Ronson and Ian Hunter bring it all the way home. In order to carry a strange album track like "The Days of Pearly Spencer," Warren Entner needed to be as big a personality as an Ian Hunter, and he isn't. From singing on this album, he went on to manage Quiet Riot, and the members of the Grass Roots never managed to create an identity as strong as Micky Dolenz, Peter Tork, Davey Jones, and Mike Nesmith. Heck, even Dale "Buffin" Griffin and Peter Overend Watts from Mott had more name recognition in rock circles, and it's that lack of personality which held back a band with over a dozen hit records. As creative as these Steve Barri-produced 11 tracks are, more hit songs were necessary for this LP's survival. That's what this band was all about, and the photos of Grill, Entner, Coonce, and Bratton on the back of the album just didn't register with those who heard a little masterpiece like "The River Is Wide." ~ Joe Viglione, All Music Guide
The second album by this version of the Grass Roots -- who changed the spelling of their name to "Grassroots" here (and then changed it back two albums later) -- was a serious departure from its predecessor. Having reached the Top 10 with "Let's Live for Today" and made the Top 100 with the accompanying album -- all done under the direction of producers Steve Barri and P.F. Sloan, with a lot of outside musicians playing on them -- the group members were eager to flex their own musical muscles. The result was Feelings, a much less slick, less polished work but one that better reflected the quartet's own sensibilities. This album was to the Grass Roots roughly what Headquarters was to the Monkees, though not remotely as popular. The album opens with the title track, a group original going back two years, to their days as a garage band -- the sound is psychedelia with a garage band edge, complete with fuzz effects and a spaced-out feel, complete with a faux-raga break. A trio of Barri/Sloan and P.F. Sloan numbers follow, all produced in a more lyrical folk-rock/pop mode that recalls the prior album -- indeed, "Here's Where You Belong" closely resembles "Where Were You When I Needed You" in tempo and texture. "The Sins of the Family Fall on the Daughter" is a surprisingly catchy number for so serious a subject (and title), with pleasant hooks and a searing lead guitar part of the sort that AM radio listeners seldom associated with this band; and "Melody for You" is a pleasant piece of midtempo Baroque pop/rock. The members' own compositions dominate most of the rest of the record, and the sound varies widely -- the Warren Entner/Rob Grill-authored "Who Will You Be Tomorrow" offers a deliberately heavier sound without any attempt at emulating the pretty pop harmonies that dress up the Barri/Sloan numbers -- but on "You Might as Well Go My Way" (written by Richard Podolor) and "All Good Things Come to an End" (authored by Albert Hammond), the group delivers a leaner, punchier version of their folk-rock sound. Creed Bratton's bluesy "Hot Bright Lights" gives the lead guitarist a chance to show off his work with the volume pedal; they switch gears to languid psychedelic pop on Entner and Grill's "Hey Friend," while the same writing duo's "You and Love Are the Same" gives Entner a great part on rhythm guitar and all four a chance to contribute some lush choruses amid a psychedelic haze that is enhanced by the presence of a string orchestra accompaniment. And "Dinner for Eight" is an eerily reflective piece with a disconnected psychedelic break that rolls right back into a reprise of "Feelings." Without a hit single to drive its sales, Feelings was ignored by most listeners and never charted, which is a shame. The album isn't close to perfect -- and has more flaws than its predecessor -- but it's also more ambitious musically, and does offer a rare and honest glimpse of the group in an unusual moment of experimentation. And it is close to essential listening for anyone wondering who these guys were, beyond the hits -- certainly anyone who owns the Rhino double-CD anthology should also have this album as an equally valid complement to their most commercially successful work. ~ Bruce Eder, All Music Guide
Released in the spring of 1967, Let's Live for Today was almost a musical throwback, steeped in folk-rock, which was fairly passé at the time, rather than psychedelia, but that's what makes it so appealing to listeners today. Listeners in 1967 were probably disappointed that there was nothing on the album as dramatic or memorable as the title track, but everything else is solid folk-rock with a pretty hard edge, which allows it to stand quite well alongside rival releases by the Beau Brummels, the Cryan Shames, the Blue Things, et al. Most of the music here is derived from the P.F. Sloan/Steve Barri songwriting and production team, spiced with four surprisingly strong originals -- mostly drawn from the original demo tape that they submitted as the 13th Floor -- by the band members themselves. The Sloan-Barri numbers are smooth, hook-laden folk-rock "Things I Should Have Said," "Is It Any Wonder," some of it with a garage band edge, and with elements of mild pop psychedelia ("Wake Up, Wake Up") occasionally manifesting themselves. Sloan and Barri's production gave the music a polish that made it thoroughly commercial without entirely losing sight of the band's fervor; the Grass Roots, only a few months out of playing bowling alleys, rose to the occasion in the singing and the basic playing, but they were also in the hands of two producers who knew how to add such embellishments as an unobtrusive harpsichord or flute over a garage band workout like "Tip of My Tongue," and who also took full advantage of stereo separation. The latter made this album a real treat for the fans, who bought it and got to hear the playing by Sloan (who contributed some guitar), Creed Bratton, and Warren Entner, and the singing by all of them (especially on "Is It Any Wonder") in vivid detail. Also surprising are the group originals, such as Entner and Bratton's "Beatin' Round the Bush" and Bratton's rocking "House of Stone," each of which is a match musically for most of the Sloan-Barri numbers. Admittedly, the lyrics on Sloan and Barri's songs are somewhat more sophisticated than those on most of the group originals, but the simpler words on the latter firm up this album's rock & roll credentials. The CD reissue has decent sound and is worth tracking down as one of the last examples of 1960s commercial folk-rock. ~ Bruce Eder, All Music Guide
Before the Grass Roots reached the peak of their pop/rock popularity, they were a much more folk-rock-oriented outfit. Indeed, this debut album is a matter of much confusion; apparently the original Grass Roots were pretty much a front for the songwriting team of P.F. Sloan and Steve Barri, who ended up performing on much of the album themselves. In any case, this is decent, though not top-of-the-line, early folk-rock, falling about halfway between the Byrds and more pop-oriented peers like the Turtles and the Mamas & the Papas. Highlights include the hit title track and other Sloan-Barri originals like "Lollipop Train," "Look Out Girl," "This Is What I Was Made For," and "You Baby," which was a hit for the Turtles. ~ Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide