If you were a radio DJ in 1966, you might’ve been a bit confused. A new single lands on your desk. It’s a soft, breezy number with a high, almost ethereal tenor vocal. You look at the name: Chris Montez. You remember that guy—the gritty Chicano rocker who shook the rafters with "Let's Dance" back in ’62. The guy who toured with the Beatles. But this? This "Call Me" thing is different. It’s polite. It’s sophisticated. Honestly, some DJs reportedly thought they were listening to a woman until they saw the album cover.
That confusion was exactly what Herb Alpert was banking on.
The Herb Alpert Gamble
In 1965, Chris Montez was kind of at a crossroads. His rock and roll career had cooled off. The British Invasion, led by those same guys who used to open for him in England, had shifted the landscape. When he signed with A&M Records, Montez wanted to go back to his roots. He wanted to rock. But Herb Alpert, the co-founder of A&M and a man with a legendary "ear," had a different vision.
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Alpert essentially told him to stop shouting. He suggested a middle-of-the-road, soft ballad sound. Montez was reluctant. He didn't want to be a crooner; he wanted to be the next Ritchie Valens. But he trusted Herb.
They picked a song called "Call Me."
It wasn't even a new song. Tony Hatch had written it for Petula Clark, and she’d released it earlier in 1965. But while Petula's version was solid pop, Montez and Alpert turned it into something else entirely. They created this bossa-nova-inflected, easy-listening masterpiece that felt like a warm breeze coming off the Pacific.
Chris Montez Call Me: A Chart Transformation
Released in November 1965, the song didn't just sit there. It climbed. By March 1966, Chris Montez Call Me hit No. 22 on the Billboard Hot 100. More importantly, it peaked at No. 2 on the Easy Listening (now Adult Contemporary) chart.
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It wasn't just a hit; it was a reinvention.
Montez went from being a fading rock act to a mainstay of the "cocktail pop" era. If you listen closely, you can hear the influence of the Wrecking Crew and the meticulous production standards Alpert brought to the table. The song’s structure is deceptive. It sounds simple, but that high tenor range is incredibly difficult to pull off without sounding strained. Montez makes it look easy.
- The Original: Petula Clark (1965)
- The Hit: Chris Montez (1966)
- The Peak: #22 Pop, #2 Easy Listening
- The Vibe: Sophisticated, soft-pop, Latin-tinged
The Beatles Connection Most People Forget
Here’s a fun piece of trivia: Chris Montez actually topped the bill over the Beatles. During their 1963 tour of the UK, Montez was the headliner. There’s a famous story about John Lennon getting a bit too rowdy on the tour bus and pouring beer on Montez's head while he was sleeping. Montez didn't take it lying down—they actually got into a scrap before being pulled apart.
Despite the friction, Montez was actually one of the first Americans to hear the finished Please Please Me album. They gave him a copy at the hotel. He loved it. But by the time he got back to the States, the roles had reversed. The Beatles were the sun, and everyone else was just orbiting.
"Call Me" was his way of finding a new solar system.
Why the Song Still Works
You’ve probably heard it in movies. It’s most famous for its use in the Harrison Ford thriller Frantic. Why? Because it carries a specific kind of nostalgia that isn't sappy. It’s "cool" nostalgia.
It’s the sound of a specific era of Los Angeles—the Sunset Strip before the hippies took over. It’s a transition point.
Most people get wrong the idea that Montez was "forced" into this style. While he was hesitant, he eventually embraced the "soft" sound because it allowed him to show off his technical vocal ability. He wasn't just a rocker; he was a musician. After the success of "Call Me," he followed up with "The More I See You" and "There Will Never Be Another You," cementing his place as the king of the high-tenor ballad.
Technical Nuance: The Tony Hatch Influence
We have to talk about Tony Hatch. The man was a machine in the 60s. He wrote "Downtown" for Petula Clark, and his sensibility was always about melody first.
In "Call Me," the melody is "haunting," as Herb Alpert once described it. It’s a series of rising and falling intervals that require a very steady breath control. If you try to sing it at karaoke, you’ll realize halfway through that you’re either too low or screaming. Montez found the "sweet spot" in the middle.
What You Should Do Next
If you really want to appreciate the legacy of this track, don't just stream it on a tinny phone speaker.
- Find the Mono Mix: The original 45rpm mono mix of "Call Me" has a punch and a warmth that the stereo remasters often lose. The bass sits differently, and Montez’s voice feels more "centered."
- Compare the Versions: Listen to Petula Clark’s 1965 original, then jump to Montez’s 1966 version. Notice how the tempo shift and the Latin percussion completely change the "meaning" of the lyrics.
- Explore the Album: Check out the full The More I See You album. It’s a masterclass in mid-60s A&M production.
The story of Chris Montez and "Call Me" is really a story about survival in the music industry. It’s about a rock and roller who had the humility to listen to a producer and the talent to execute a total 180-degree turn in his career. It’s why, 60 years later, when those first few notes of the intro play, you still know exactly what’s coming.