Carlos Santana's Overlooked Masterpiece - The Swing Of Delight

Santana at Woodstock, August 16, 1969

When Santana performed at Woodstock in August of 1969, most of the 400,000 people in the crowd (give or take) had never heard of them. The group had yet to release an album and was barely known outside of their home base of San Francisco.

Before Woodstock, Santana's biggest gig had been as the opening act for the Grateful Dead at the Fillmore West in San Francisco. Bill Graham, the owner of the Fillmore, was the most important rock music promoter in San Francisco, and was close with all the major groups, including The Grateful Dead and The Jefferson Airplane. Graham was also a big fan and a booster of Santana. When the promoters of Woodstock approached Graham about booking bands to play at the festival, Graham told them that if they wanted The Dead and The Airplane, they would also have to take Santana. Which is how a fairly obscure band ended up playing at Woodstock.

Even though Santana was largely unknown to the crowd, their 45-minute set ended up being one of the highlights of the entire concert. [While there is plenty of debate, critics generally agree that the best performances at Woodstock were by Sly & The Family Stone, Jimi Hendrix, The Who, and Santana.]

I wasn't there (I'm not quite that old), but for my money, Santana was the best group at the festival. In contrast to a number of headliners who didn't have their best stuff or bands that were hampered by the weather and technical problems (notably The Grateful Dead) Santana were rehearsed and at the top of their game.

If you've not seen the band's set at Woodstock, you should drop everything and go watch their closing number, "Soul Sacrifice." The uncut version is here. (Don't bother with the three-minute edited version.) For me, this astounding nine-and-a-half minute performance is the most electrifying moment of the entire festival. 

Michael Shrieve at Woodstock

The song starts with a nice slow burn that erupts into a five-alarm fire that leaves you breathless. Bass player David Brown and percussionists Michael Carabello and José "Chepito" Areas start off the Latin groove. From the time Carlos Santana takes his first extended guitar solo at the 1:10 mark, the song never lets up - all you can do is hold on for the ride. Carlos is followed by some very tasty Latin percussion, and then at around the 3:00 mark, Michael Shrieve (the youngest performer at the festival at age 20) takes a two-minute drum solo that is astounding. Carlos then comes back in for another extended guitar solo, followed by a fabulous organ solo by Gregg Rolie, which is followed by an all-out jailbreak by the whole band. The song concludes with another tour de force performance by Shrieve as the drums drive the song to a close. The crowd goes nuts. No doubt many of them were thinking: Who the hell are these guys? Watching the video gives me goosebumps. 

[Fun fact: Carlos Santana revealed many years later that Jerry Garcia gave him a hit of LSD before the band went on. Santana says he was tripping so badly he wasn't sure if he could play. Turns out he could.] 

There is no question that Woodstock was the launching pad for Santana. After being signed by Columbia Records at the end of 1968 (originally called The Santana Blues Band), the group went into the studio to record their first album in May, 1969. With incredible timing, Columbia Records released the eponymous Santana album the week after Woodstock. Not surprisingly, it zoomed up the charts and became a monster hit that stayed in the Billboard 200 for more than two years.

1st three LPs

I mention all the above because I periodically go through my collection to create more space by finding albums that I don't listen to very much and moving them to my overflow shelves in the garage. During a recent attempt to cull some albums, I went through my collection of Santana albums, wondering if some of them might be candidates for a new home in the garage.

First things first: Santana's first three albums (left, top to bottom) Santana (1969), Abraxas (1970), and Santana III (1971) are rock 'n' roll classics. No way any of them is going outside. However, I quickly realized that I couldn't remember the last time I listened to any of the other nine Santana albums in my collection. As with a lot of other rock artists, Santana's early albums were by far their best. None of their later releases really made much of an impression on me.

That being the case, I was just about to take all the post-1971 Santana albums in my collection out to the garage, but decided to spend a couple of days listening to them first for old times' sake.  

If I count correctly, Carlos Santana (both individually and in the group Santana) released some 15 or 16 albums during the 1970s (I've got 12 of them). His output included a solo album, joint projects with Buddy Miles, John McLaughlin, and Alice Coltrane, and 11 or 12 Santana group albums (depending on whether you count live albums and a best of collection).

I'm not going to attempt a detailed review of all the albums. What I will say is that Santana III marks the end of the original Santana sound. Beginning with the band's fourth album, Caravanserai (1972), Carlos Santana (as opposed to the group) began exploring new musical directions, initially moving away from his original Latin rock roots to a jazz fusion style. However, during the rest of the decade, he also experimented with a myriad of musical styles, including the Blues, R&B, garage rock, psychedelic rock, contemporary pop, and free form jazz. 

After listening to my nine post-1971 albums, I can confidently say that all of them have more than a little redeeming value. The musicianship is routinely high, the songs are generally well crafted, and even his more exotic forays into free form jazz (Illuminations, 1974) or new agey ballads (Oneness: Silver Dreams Golden Reality, 1979) are interesting, although not interesting enough to save them from a trip to the garage. 

However, I was surprised at how well I liked a couple of Santana's later group albums, particularly Borboletta (1974) and Amigos (1976). I suspect it's because on these two albums they recapture some of the magic of the group's early Latin rock groove. I decided to give these two a reprieve from the garage. 

Just as I was about to give the remaining albums the big heave-ho, I realized that I had one more release, a 1980 solo project called The Swing Of Delight. [Fun fact: The album is credited to Devadip Carlos Santana. Devadip was the Sanskrit-based name given to Santana by the Indian guru Sri Chinmoy. Santana was a devotee of Chinmoy from about 1972-80.] The album is a two-disc set which I frankly did not remember owning. I likely picked it up for a couple of bucks from a used record bin and wasn't sure if I had ever listened to it or not. 

My initial thought was that the record was probably another jazz fusion effort in the style of Love, Devotion, Surrender, the 1972 album Santana made with fellow Sri Chinmoy disciple Mahavishnu John McLaughlin. So, I didn't hold out much hope. However, a quick look at the credits inside the gate-fold jacket quickly caught my attention. Most of the album was recorded with Herbie Hancock on keyboards, Wayne Shorter on Saxophone, Tony Williams on drums, and Ron Carter on bass. Which is to say, the band on Santana's LP was Miles Davis's "Second Great Quintet" from 1964-68. This is the group that cut four classic Miles Davis LPs that tore down the walls between modal jazz, avant garde, and rock 'n' roll. So that seemed promising.

Miles Davis and the "2nd Great Quintet"

The really odd thing about The Swing Of Delight is that there are no credits anywhere on the outside of the jacket. The credits are printed on the inside of the gate-fold in a tiny, white font that makes it almost impossible to read. I had to use a magnifying glass to make out the print and discover the crackerjack musicians who played on the sessions.

So, what gives? I don't know. It's no secret that Santana's longtime label, Columbia Records, strongly opposed his experimental musical projects, because they seldom sold many copies or made any money. But burying the credits on this release feels like someone was deliberately trying to sabotage the record. If they had plastered the names of Herbie Hancock, Wayne Shorter, Ron Carter, and Tony Williams on the jacket, they probably would have doubled the sales.

Whatever the reason, the under the radar approach worked. The album was released in 1980 with no fanfare, received mostly lukewarm reviews, and sold poorly. But don't be deterred. This is a flat-out fabulous album that incorporates elements of post bop, jazz rock, soul jazz, jazz funk, Latin rock, fusion, and straight-ahead jazz. I hear echoes of Weather Report, Mahavishnu Orchestra, Chick Corea's Return To Forever, not to mention any number of stellar albums by Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter.

The band is incredibly tight and cooking (are you surprised?), and Santana plays lead guitar like a rock star. These are not the dulcet tones of Wes Montgomery or the frenetic energy of John McLaughlin, but the electrifying Santana from Woodstock in 1969, with his signature string bends and soulful sustained notes. I was floored. I played through all four sides of the record three times in a row, marveling at the telegraphic interplay between the musicians.

Even when some of the all-star band are replaced by other musicians (notably David Margen on bass, Harvey Mason on drums, and Russell Tubbs on sax), there is no falloff in the quality of the music. In fact, except for the bass (Ron Carter plays acoustic, while David Margen is on electric bass), I had to continually refer to the credits to see who was playing on which songs. Herbie Hancock is the only keyboard player on the album.

Sri Chinmoy and Devadip

The Swing Of Delight was the last of three solo albums that Santana made while under the influence of Sri Chinmoy and by far the most interesting. While almost completely ignored by the public, these three "Devadip" albums offer a fascinating look into Santana's musical journey. As a critic on the allaboutjazz.com website wrote, "The Devadip albums show him in a light where he was less concerned with selling records and pleasing record companies, and guided solely by his muse." 

Since The Swing Of Delight is relatively unknown and not much sought after, it's easy to find great copies at a bargain price. I paid a couple of dollars for my copy, which is NM/VG+. Heck, there are even sealed mint copies available online for less than $15.

[Last fun fact: The Swing Of Delight was one of the first digitally recorded LPs released by Columbia Records. The sound is excellent, if a little bit hyper-real; the dynamic range is enormous and the low-end - particularly the drums and bass - is spectacular. 

Enjoy the music!