A Year of Blind Spots: Abraxas

It has to be a generational thing, that the first thing I think of, and will think of forever, when I hear the word "Santana," is Rob Thomas singing the opening lines over a Latin-infused guitar lick in the 2000 smash hit "Smooth." An absolutely atrocious song, but one that will live forever in the hearts and minds of the so-called "'90s Kids."

It's at the very least interesting, I guess, to go back and view the critically acclaimed 1970 Santana album Abraxas in that context. If 2000's Supernatural was a "comeback" for Carlos Santana, then what preceded the downswing he needed to come back from? As it turns out, Santana (the band) sounds a whole lot like if Cream moved south of the border. I dig it.

This is a guitar-lovers album if there ever was one. I knew that Carlos Santana was masterful at noodling, but you don't really get that sense from "Smooth," ya know? So it was kinda nice sitting back and hearing him go wild this week. I especially enjoyed hearing all the frantic soloing clashing with the smooth relaxing bongo/conga rhythms.

Not that Santana (the guitarist) is the only important piece of Santana (the band). Santana was co-founded by keyboardist and lead vocalist Gregg Rolie, who brings a measurable sense of '60s-blues-psychedelic-rock to the album (check out "Hope You're Feeling Better" if you aren't the biggest fan of Latin Rock). Rolie would leave Santana in 1973—long before any popular resurgence or Grammy AotY win—so I have to imagine that Abraxas and the other albums from the early '70s feel different than any of the other 25 studio albums, just due to Rolie's presence.

(Fun fact: Gregg Rolie was also a co-founder of Journey, and sang lead in that band too, for a while. This means that Rolie has been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame twice. But since he left Journey in 1980, he did not participate in the creation of 1981's "Don't Stop Believin'," for better or worse.)

Anyways, Abraxas presents a pretty nice balance between two different rock 'n' roll styles. It wears the Latin music influence on its sleeve but never shoves it down your throat. You got your chill classic "Oye Cómo Va" mixed with the time-signature-bending theatrics of "Incident at Neshabur," and so on. Most importantly, it achieves the bare minimum of what I had asked it to do: Abraxas allows me to push "Smooth" just a little further down the memory hole.