Go to:
Santana (1969)
8
Waiting / Evil Ways / Shades of Time / Savor / Jingo / Persuasion
/ Treat / You Just Don’t Care / Soul Sacrifice // Savor / Soul
Sacrifice / Fried Neckbones
It’s
kind of sad that most people these days only know Carlos Santana from his
latest releases, slick products so obviously obsessed with the lowest common
denominator that it almost becomes a joke. It’s not that these successful
releases are worthless – far from it – but they can’t hold
a candle to the music the band Santana created 35 years ago. Although they
were considered part of the Bay Area music scene, the six-piece still stands
as a unique unit, one of the most innovative and adventurous of its day. While
most other likeminded bands (Jefferson Airplane, The Grateful Dead, Moby Grape)
sought refuge in psychedelic excess to concoct their merger of influences,
Santana was the first band to offer an exciting melting pot of (bluesy) rock,
jazz and Latin roots. The band caused quite fuss when they set the Fillmore
on fire in 1968, but the major breakthrough came when the band turned in a
now legendary performance at the 1969 Woodstock festival, which took place
in the same month this debut was released. The members of the band had white,
black and Latino roots, which was all reflected in the music. While Carlos
and keyboard player/vocalist Gregg Rollie had obviously been listening to
what was happening at the time, they also betrayed a jazz sensibility that
- coupled to the percussion work by Jose Chepito Areas and Mike Carabello
– resulted into an infectious merger of calculated western structure
and Afro-Cuban stress on rhythm.
This is nowhere more applicable than in the album’s centrepiece “Soul Sacrifice,” which basically shows what they were all about at the time. An instrumental with a great, natural flow, it was the first masterstroke in a long series of epics that were showcases for the guitarist’s impossibly stretched notes, Rollie’s sweeping organ lines and the rhythm section’s use of congas and timbales. Whereas the studio version is already ace, it’s simply blown away by the version recorded at Woodstock that’s fortunately included on most editions available. It’s not that it deviates that much from the studio counterpart, but it simply sounds better, more energetic and contains Mike Shrieve’s legendary solo. The climax of his performance and the moment where the band picks up the main theme again must’ve been one of the festival’s highlights. The majority of the album is less impressive, with the focus less on virtuoso musicianship, but it nevertheless contains some excellent jamming. That’s right, the album’s quite often criticised for being rather weak in the songwriting department – something they would improve upon – but I’m just a sucker for most of these grooves. Opener “Waiting,” for instance, isn’t half as mind-blowing as “Soul Sacrifice,” but the band’s interplay is so goddamn exhilarating. It’s obvious that these people nearly communicated on some paranormal level with each other, not once losing the flow of the song, substituting one restrained solo with another one, never losing sight of the natural rhythm, giving each musician the opportunity to shine. The song’s climax, when Carlos’ stretched notes rejoin the percussion and Shrieve switches to that galloping rhythm, is pure gold.
The album’s greatest hit, the Latin pop of “Evil Ways” is an entirely different matter. It was suggested to them by Bill Graham (the Fillmore dude) who taught them that in order to score, they should come up with something more than just a jam of epic proportions. He was right, as the song – rightfully – became the band’s first hit song. The remaining six songs don’t follow the rigid pop structures, which is why they might sound as rehearsal jams to some people’s ears. In “Shades of Time,” Santana’s guitar tone and jazzy inflections are immediately recognizable, but it’s surely not their best song. The same goes for “Savor” and second hit “Jingo,” basically two lightweight songs, the first one being a showcase for the Afro-Cuban percussion, the second one more of the same thing with some repetitive vocals added. Apart from Rollie’s passionate vocals and some nifty guitar soloing, I’ve never been a sucker for “You Just Don’t Care,” it must be the whole start/stop-thing. The two tracks left are damn fine though: “Treat” shows the band in a jazzy mood with some impossibly fluent soloing from Carlos, while the straightforward “Persuasion” is entirely dominated by Rollie’s raucous vocals and pumping organ. Santana might have its flaws, but it’s an album that never gets boring, on the strength of the strong overall musicianship. These guys were onto something, and they knew it, and this made them rise above themselves, despite the occasionally slight material. It’s exactly this genre-bending and liberating atmosphere of discovery and confidence that lies at the core of the album that makes it still so invigorating in 2004.
Michael Limb (UK): |
Abraxas (1970)
8.5
Singing Minds, Crying Beasts / Black Magic Woman/Gypsy Queen / Oye
Como Va / Incident at Neshabur / Se a Cabo / Mother's Daughter
/ Samba Pa Ti / Hope You're Feeling Better / El Nicoya // Se
a Cabo / Toussaint l'Overture / Black Magic Woman/Gypsy Queen
Aaaahh,
the days when bands were so productive that you knew what to buy your loved
ones each Christmas Day. Abraxas - the name was copped from Herman
Hesse's Demian - was released a year after the eponymous debut and
basically continues in the same vein as its predecessor. However, this impression
results more from the fact that the band's sound was so unique and convincing,
and not because they didn't evolve. No other band sounded like Santana at
the time (and yes - no band ever sounded like them since), and no guitar player
has ever succeeded in successfully imitating Carlos' stellar guitar playing.
After many listens, it becomes clear that Abraxas digs deeper than
Santana, offers a bit more variation and contains more substantial
material, as some of the early material was obviously the result of many hours
of jamming. For some reason the band wasn't that pleased with the sonic quality
of the debut and spent much more time and money on recording Abraxas
and it is noticeable as it sounds absolutely immaculate, organic and
warm, with enough muscle and attention for detail. Just crank up the
volume during "Se a Cabo" and listen to the percussion, check out how it exploits
the potential of stereo, how it jumps into your living room, targets your
hips. The music is - if possible - even classier than before: sensual percussion
and exotic grooves, nicely flowing organ parts, swirling guitar work-outs
that sound like the psychedelic/bluesy counterparts of John McLaughlin's spiritual
fusion. From the exotic mood piece that opens the album (check out the feverish
organ-parts and creepy guitar effects) to the arousing dittie that closes
the album, Abraxas is, as the album cover suggests, an exotic fusion
of the sensual and the spiritual, of mind and body, primal beats and refined
playing. It's exactly this combination that makes many fusion bands out there
quite boring and clumsy, but this band got away with it, as the sincerity
speaks for itself and relentless creativity keeps it focused. It's quite stunning
that the album managed to keep such a great flow intact, as no less than four
band members contribute songs. The marvellous album highlight "Incident at
Neshabur" was written by Carlos and blues pianist Albert Gianquinto and seems
to include nearly every facet of this band: there's some red-hot percussion
action, jazzy soloing by Carlos which takes 'em closer to the Mahavishnu than
ever before and when the song suddenly transforms into a moody laidback vibe,
you're - as the liner notes suggest - suddenly damn close to Burt Bacharach's
orchestrated lounge-pop. The other Santana-composition, and the one you're
likely familiar with, is "Samba Pa Ti." Hated by some (I have a friend who
insists on calling it "Samba Paté"), loved by others, it's the band at its
smoothest, with vaseline-soft guitar playing by Carlos and subtle backing
by the rest of the band. Usually these songs that are fondly remembered by
40-50-somethings ("Do you remember that was the first time you kissed me,
Robert?" - "Yes, I do" answers Robert as his eyes don't leave the TV-screen
for a second,… it's the Super Bowl!) are nothing much to speak of, but in
this case I'll make an exception: it's downright pretty and even sexy, in
a way. Percussionist Jose Areas also adds two contributions: the short album
closer ("El Nicoya) and the more traditional sounding "Se a Cabo," a fierce
combination of salsa heat and rock energy. As opposed to those, Rollie adds
the more rock-oriented songs to the album: "Mother's Daughter" and "Hope You're
Feeling Better," with especially the latter sounding powerful, driven by a
tough riff and topped off by some exquisite soloing. However, ultimately it's
the covers that made people by this album in the first place, as the Santanasation
of Peter Green's "Black Magic Woman" peaked at #4 in the charts and probably
became the most familiar version of the song (even with the "Gypsy Queen"-part
tagged to the end). "Oye Como Va" functions as this album's "Evil Ways" -
a combination of the familiar (rock tradition) and the unknown (exotic sounds)
that appeals to the audiences of both. By many considered to be the absolute
peak of Santana (the band), Abraxas still stands as the band's most
accessible, and perhaps most innovative record, one that can easily compete
with most "classics" from its era.
Read album reviews of similar or related artists: