Abraxas - Santana (1970)

I saw Santana share a bill with Dylan in 1993. The Dylan fixation was still building, this was only my second time seeing him, and I was–to put it mildly–amped about the man.

I didn’t know much about Carlos Santana by contrast. The eponymous guitar god at the front of the band and his place in music history weren’t in my awareness. So while I enjoyed the show, I didn’t take much away from it. A real missed opportunity, I feel. Carlos Santana has done more than anyone else to bring the latin musical vocabulary into rock, jazz, and blues (as well as being a darn good ballplayer) and I’ve only discovered it more in recent decades.

As a fluent blues and psych guitarist, Santana fit excellently into the northern California scene of the late 60s. But he offered so much more spirituality and tradition besides being able to take a solo.

There are even parts of this record that well ahead of the coming wave of 70s hard rock of ZZ Top, Bachman Turner, Mountain, and a hundred others, but with much more nuance and elegance than most of them would have. I’d call it “proto-ass-rock” for a laugh but it does Santana such a disservice.

Many of these early Santana records are great journeys into inner space, but this one in particular hits the spot for me.