Carlos Santana/Mahavishnu John McLaughlin [extended]

• Santana [Columbia, 1969] C-
• Devotion [Douglas, 1970] A
• Abraxas [Columbia, 1970] C+
• Where Fortune Smiles [Pye, 1971] B+
• The Inner Mounting Flame [Columbia, 1971] A
• My Goal's Beyond [Douglas, 1971] B
• Santana III [Columbia, 1971] B
• Caravanserai [Columbia, 1972] B-
• Birds of Fire [Columbia, 1973] A-
• Between Nothingness and Eternity [Columbia, 1973] B+
• Welcome [Columbia, 1973] B+
• Love Devotion Surrender [Columbia, 1973] B-
• Apocalypse [Columbia, 1974] C
• Santana's Greatest Hits [Columbia, 1974] B-
• Borboletta [Columbia, 1974] C+
• Illuminations [Columbia, 1974] C-
• Visions of the Emerald Beyond [Columbia, 1975] C+
• Inner Worlds [Columbia, 1976] B-
• Amigos [Columbia, 1976] B
• Festival [Columbia, 1977] C+
• Moonflower [Columbia, 1977] B+
• Electric Guitarist [Columbia, 1978] B+
• Inner Secrets [Columbia, 1978] C+
• Electric Dreams [Columbia, 1979] B-
• Marathon [Columbia, 1979] C
• Silver Dreams Golden Reality [Columbia, 1979] B-
• Havana Moon [Columbia, 1983] B+
• The Lost Trident Sessions [Columbia/Legacy, 1999] ***
• Supernatural [Arista, 1999]
• Thieves and Poets [Verve, 2003]
• The Essential Santana [Columbia/Legacy, 2003]
• Power of Peace [Legacy, 2017] ***

See Also:

• John McLaughlin
• Mahavishnu John McLaughlin
• Mahavishnu Orchestra
• Mahavishnu Orchestra/John McLaughlin
• John McLaughlin, Dave Holland, John Surman, Stu Martin, Karl Berger
• John McLaughlin with the One Truth Band
• Santana
• Devadip Carlos Santana
• Devadip Carlos Santana/Turiya Alice Coltrane
• Carlos Santana
• The Isley Brothers/Santana

Consumer Guide Reviews:

Santana: Santana [Columbia, 1969]
Just want to register my unreconstructed opposition to the methedrine school of American music. A lot of noise. C-

John McLaughlin: Devotion [Douglas, 1970]
McLaughlin reminds me as much of Duane Eddy as of John Coltrane--he loves electric noise for its own sake and rocks more naturally than he swings. Here Buddy Miles provides his usual ham-handed thump, a universe away from Tony Williams's sallies, and McLaughlin just marches along on top, his tone supremely heavy by choice. But like Coltrane, though in a much more detached way, he can get enormous mileage out of harmonic ideas whose simplicity is probably one source of the spirituality he generates. Rarely has a rock improvisation been more basic or more thoughtfully conceived than on the title track, where he and Larry Young trade the same elemental motif for so long it turns into an electric mantra. A

Santana: Abraxas [Columbia, 1970]
On the debut most of the originals were credited to "Santana Band"; this time individual members claim individual compositions. Can this mean somebody thought about these melodies (and lyrics!) before they sprung from the collective unconscious? In any case, they've improved. And in any case, the best ones are by Peter Green, Gabor Szabo, and Tito Puente, none of whom is known to be a member of the Santana Band. C+

John McLaughlin, Dave Holland, John Surman, Stu Martin, Karl Berger: Where Fortune Smiles [Pye, 1971]
Recorded in New York in 1969, when McLaughlin's studio appearances were amazing everyone from Jimi to Buddy to Miles, this prefigures Mahavishnu's fusion at an earlier, jazzier stage. Pretty intense. The rock guy (drummer Martin) sounds a lot more original than the jazz guys (keyboard player Berger and--especially--saxophonist Surman), but only the justifiably ubiquitous Holland (on bass) can keep up with McLaughlin. And believe me, even if in historical fact it's McLaughlin who's trying to keep up, that's how it sounds. B+

Mahavishnu Orchestra/John McLaughlin: The Inner Mounting Flame [Columbia, 1971]
He couldn't very well call it the John McLaughlin Lifetime, but that's what it is--with Billy Cobham a somewhat heavier Tony Williams, Rick Laird subbing for fellow Scot Jack Bruce, violinist Jerry Goodman and keyboard man Jan Hammer vainly filling in Khalid Yasin's organ textures, and McLaughlin back on electric guitar. The raveups aren't quite as intense as "Right On," though "Awakening" and "The Noonward Race" come close, but McLaughlin has a much clearer idea of how to make a rock band work than Williams. No vocals is the right idea--imagine what claptrap he'd come up with putting the beyond into words. To change pace he provides more of the noble, elemental themes he introduced on Devotion--my favorite is "The Dance of Maya," which breaks into a blues about halfway through. Mistake: "A Lotus on Irish Streams," a lyrical digression featuring Goodman, who ought to be watched closely at all times. A

Mahavishnu John McLaughlin: My Goal's Beyond [Douglas, 1971]
What a mind-fuck! Just when I have him pegged as the Duane Eddy of the Aquarian Age he goes acoustic on me! "Peace One," "Peace Two," yeah yeah yeah--it's easy when you don't plug in. Conjuring peace out of chaos the way Devotion does is the real trick. And while like most white people I've failed to develop my taste in sitar music. I don't like the looks of this Mahalakshmi on the cover--she's white too, and I'll bet she got on the record the same way Sri Chinmoy got to write the notes. Sitar sound effects from George Harrison are one thing--that's just rock and roll. John's goal is supposed to be beyond. B

Santana: Santana III [Columbia, 1971]
In theory, the polyrhythms intensified the momentum while the low-definition songwriting served the freeflow gestalt. In fact, the Latin lilt lightened the beat and the flow remained muddy indeed. So the electricity generated by the percussion-heavy opening cut comes as a pleasant surprise, and the movement of what follows is a surprising pleasure. New second guitarist Neal Schon deserves special thanks for crowding out Gregg Rolie's organ. Maybe soon he'll come up with more than one idea per solo. B

Santana: Caravanserai [Columbia, 1972]
Some of the slower electronic stuff fails to sustain my admittedly tentative interest, and the Gillette commercial vocals take this post-hippie business altogether too far. Still, I'm happy to report that the experiment--away from Latino schlock and toward Mahavishnu you can dance to, sort of--is not only honest but successful and not only successful but appropriate. After all, improvisation has always been their "thing." B-

Mahavishnu Orchestra: Birds of Fire [Columbia, 1973]
In which the inner mounting flame is made flesh? Something like that. The celestial raveups are more self-possessed, the lyrical interludes less swoony, and the modal themes are as grand as ever. A-

Mahavishnu Orchestra: Between Nothingness and Eternity [Columbia, 1973]
This live album is as rough as they're liable to get on record--I even hear a quote from "Sunshine of Your Love," and the raveup on Jan Hammer's simple rock tune "Sister Andrea" is a ballbuster. Empty patches are inevitable but remarkably few. I'm beginning to wonder, though, how long McLaughlin can make his fusion work. Because this is jazz, McLaughlin and Cobham really do improvise (about the others I sometimes have my doubts). But because it's rock the notes and accents they play don't matter all that much--what communicates is the concept, which is mostly a matter of dynamics and which hasn't changed at all over three albums. Not that the improvisations count for nothing, or that striking new melodies--which are in short supply here--couldn't keep things interesting for quite a while. But it's not going to be automatic. B+

Santana: Welcome [Columbia, 1973]
More confident and hence more fun than Caravanserai, this proves that a communion of multipercussive rock and transcendentalist jazz can move the unenlightened--me, for instance. Good themes, good playing, good beat, and let us not forget good singing--Leon Thomas's muscular spirituality grounds each side so firmly that not even Flora Purim can send it out the window. B+

Love Devotion Surrender [Columbia, 1973]
On the back cover is a photograph of three men. Two of them are dressed in white and have their hands folded--one grinning like Alfred E. Neuman, the other looking like he's about to have a Supreme Court case named after him: solemn, his wrists ready for the cuffs. In between, a man in an orange ski jacket and red pants with one white sock seems to have caught his tongue on his lower lip. He looks like the yoga coach at a fashionable lunatic asylum. Guess which one is Sri Chinmoy. B-

Mahavishnu Orchestra: Apocalypse [Columbia, 1974]
McLaughlin was right to decide to revamp. But hiring a vocalist, a string section, Michael Tilson-Thomas, and the London Symphony Orchestra isn't revamping. It's spiritual pride pure and simple--or else impure and complicated. C

Santana: Santana's Greatest Hits [Columbia, 1974]
The problem with their albums turns out to be too complex to be solved by eliminating uninteresting tunes--which is a backhanded compliment to the complexity of their concept. In any case, this compilation reduces their music to a cross between pan-African blooze and Latin-metal pop. The fine (and, er, not so fine) cuts it showcases work better in their original contexts--as heads, lynchpins, focal points of improvisations that are not (yet?) what they should be. B-

Santana: Borboletta [Columbia, 1974]
Old Santana fans beware. Ad copy to the contrary, the only Latin roots here flowered in Brazil long 'round '66. Airto Moreira isn't Sergio Mendes, I admit, but Leon Patillo isn't Leon Thomas either. C+

Devadip Carlos Santana/Turiya Alice Coltrane: Illuminations [Columbia, 1974]
Sri Chinmoy kicks this off with an om, which gives me the right to note that his om has nowhere near the punch and resonance of Allen Ginsberg's om. (If by "punch and resonance" I really mean "ego" I can only add "yay".) Then Carlos attempts once again to reproduce his own alpha waves on guitar and Mrs. Coltrane contributes background music barely worthy of "Kung Fu". C-

Mahavishnu Orchestra: Visions of the Emerald Beyond [Columbia, 1975]
Well, it's surprisingly funky, though not dirty-funky--dinky-funky, sort of. Michael Tilson-Thomas is nowhere to be perceived. It's got the usual words of wisdom and choirs of angels. But mostly it's just, er, green--electric green. C+

Mahavishnu Orchestra/John McLaughlin: Inner Worlds [Columbia, 1976]
McLaughlin's return to a small group would seem overdue, but in fact he's right on time--trapped in the dead end he saw looming ahead of him way back in 1973, which is why he resorted to orchestrations in the first place. Yup, John's got himself a funk fusion group just like Jan Hammer and Billy Cobham. Stu Goldberg (come back, Jan) and Ralphe Armstrong (composer of "Planetary Citizen") are the sidemen, Narada Michael Walden the coauthor. Walden has better technical control of funk rhythms than a lot of jazz-oriented players, but he's squeamish about grease, and as a result his tunes tend to be cute even when they're good. McLaughlin, meanwhile, tends to be impressive even when he's repeating himself. But not that impressive. B-

Santana: Amigos [Columbia, 1976]
Bill Graham and David Rubinson augment Sri Chinmoy's everybody's-everything strategy with direct-hit tactics as Carlos resumes his attack on the rock marketplace. Greg Walker doubles credibly as soul man and sonero, and "Dance Sister Dance" is the band's all-time hottest original even if it is lifted form a universal salsa riff. As Armando Peraza proves (on "Gitano"), better salsa conservatism than samba impressionism. And as Carlos proves, better salsa than Wes Montgomery at his schlockiest or a tune called "Europa" that lives up to its name. B

Santana: Festival [Columbia, 1977]
As a salsa band they're still OK, but a ten-tune format and the sincere desire for AM proselytization don't make them a pop band. (Putting vocals on all the tracks might help.) It makes them a mediocre fusion band. (Is there another kind?) C+

Santana: Moonflower [Columbia, 1977]
Mixing greatest oldies with lesser newcomers, salsa classics with rock covers, European concert hall with San Fran studio, this seamless double album should stand as the working definition of a world-class band. My objections stand, too--the improvisations sometimes divert when they should sustain, the groove is often too easy, and the vocal ensembles sound like commercials. But all these flaws, for better or worse, suit music of such global appeal. And Carlos Santana has never played so well for so long. In the rock guitar tradition he is less a man of style than of sound, a clear, loud, fluent sound that cleanses with the same motion no matter how often that motion is repeated--as long as the intensity and the context are there. On this album, the live cuts provide both. B+

John McLaughlin: Electric Guitarist [Columbia, 1978]
In which the top musicians in fusion are gathered by the man who made it all possible to show the genre off aesthetically--no funk vamps, no one-run solos, no twaddle about the harmony of the universe. The project has a certain stillborn aura--it doesn't swing a lot, there is a reliance on Speedy Gonzalez climaxes, and snatches of such deathless melodies as "Holiday for Strings" and "Mohammed's Radio" are audible. Still, repetitiousness is minimized, and there are good ideas and lots of sensitive interaction. And it didn't sell diddley. B+

Santana: Inner Secrets [Columbia, 1978]
It's sad when one of the few megagroups with a groove powerful enough to get it out of any jam resorts to hacks like Lambert and Potter for a hit. I mean, Santana is schlocky anyway. But Santana's own schlock has some dignity. C+

John McLaughlin with the One Truth Band: Electric Dreams [Columbia, 1979]
Indicating that when fusion grows up it may achieve the artistic significance of the "cool" jazz of the '50s. Personally, I never had much use for Barney Kessel in the first place. I grant you that Kessel never had a drummer who could roil it up like Tony Smith. But he also never had a drummer who helped sing "Love and Understanding." Ugh. B-

Santana: Marathon [Columbia, 1979]
In their selfless pursuit of universality they've signed on a second Eddie Money graduate and replaced Greg Walker, their finest vocalist, with a Scot named Alexander J. Ligertwood, who proves his internationalism by aping that eternal foreigner Lou Gramm. Odd, you can hardly hear the congas. C

Devadip Carlos Santana: Silver Dreams Golden Reality [Columbia, 1979]
Frustrating, especially for an earthbound churl like myself--spiritual program music that mixes genuinely celestial rock with the usual goop. The "title" song (which for some arcane reason--scansion, probably--substitutes the word "Smiles" for "Reality") is an altogether revolting string-fed banality. It's followed by an instrumental on which the guitarist attains his soaring apogee, and a Sri Chinmoy (!) tune--arranged by Narada Michael Walden (!!)--that achieves a natural impressionism Eno (!!!) couldn't hope for. See what I mean? B-

Carlos Santana: Havana Moon [Columbia, 1983]
Like Chuck Berry's, Santana's lexicon of licks has never guaranteed entertaining improvisation, and the square rhythms of his one-shot roots rock & roll & band (MG's and Thunderbirds converge on Muscle Shoals) flatter his guitar as aptly as any funkbeat. You'll still find solo atmospherics here, but at least this time they take after Booker T. rather than Sri C. And though the vocals go to damn near everybody but Carlos himself--Booker T., Kim Wilson, Carlos's dad, even Greg Walker, heretofore the finest singer ever to drop in on him--it's Willie Nelson who shows us what for, on a country tune that's the one cut on the album which completely transcends revivalism. B+

Mahavishnu Orchestra: The Lost Trident Sessions [Columbia/Legacy, 1999]
From before John McLaughlin discovered Barney Kessel and Jan Hammer discovered Jan Hammer ("John's Song #2," "Trilogy"). ***

Santana: Supernatural [Arista, 1999]
"Put Your Lights On"

John McLaughlin: Thieves and Poets [Verve, 2003]

Santana: The Essential Santana [Columbia/Legacy, 2003]
Columbia's Essential series dishonors a great packaging concept: two-CD best-of in single-size jewel box. Every title that isn't a priori redundant is either too long or, yes, too short; the second discs almost unfailingly home in on late schlock, especially misbegotten collaborations (hint: Willie Nelson's Hank Snow and Webb Pierce one-offs now occupy one budget disc). But the first disc here is long-winded enough to evoke a real Santana album but not so long-winded you won't give the next soundalike solo a shot, and so's its second disc--except for the dreadful patch in the middle featuring Scots belter Alex Ligertwood, a textbook example of how horribly wrong "rock" went in the AOR '80s. This clueless corporate greed, that clueless corporate greed--so different, yet so the same. [Recyclables]

The Isley Brothers/Santana: Power of Peace [Legacy, 2017]
Ronnie croons and cries the forebears' songbook while Carlos and Ernie soar-not-shred, and yes, consciousness is included ("Total Destruction to Your Mind," "God Bless the Child," "Mercy Mercy Me [The Ecology]" ***