Santana Moonflower (1977)

From progarchives.com

Review by Chicapah

Say what you may about Carlos and his cronies. Like them or not, they’re unquestionably one of the most unique bands in the world. No one combines Afro-Latin rhythms, Central/South American melodic sensitivities and top shelf jazz/rock fusion like they do and few try. They set the bar so high that even poor imitations are hard to find. But what attracts me to Santana more than anything else is their fire. Their unbridled passion. Their amazing energy. You know, the stuff that can’t be faked. All of which is in full, glorious bloom on “Moonflower.” I can’t say those things about all their albums, but most of them. For example, how they could follow up their incredible, ground-breaking, earth- shaking “Caravanserai” with the flat, insipid waste-of-time that was “Welcome” is baffling and almost unforgivable. Yet that was just a glitch. All in all their impressive catalogue of work is fairly consistent and if all a progster knows about them is to be found on their greatest hits CD then that person is missing out on a lot of great, challenging music. In which case this collection of live and studio cuts will give the neophyte both an education and a new perspective on why Santana is so popular and revered well after over four decades have passed since their inception in 1967. On the other hand, if you’re a fan and, like me, didn’t bother to snap up a copy of this record for whatever cockeyed reason I urge you to put this one at the apex of your “to buy” list today. There’s not a bad track on it and it’ll remind you of why you were attracted to them in the first place.

I must admit that the intro for the first song, “Dawn,” frightened the feces out of me because I thought for a moment that they were about to break into “I Will Survive,” something that I wouldn’t have. Thank God they didn’t. It’s just a fake-out. They mesh this odd little Tom Coster instrumental with Devadip Carlos Santana’s “Go Within” to create a short piece of contemporary jazz that sounds suspiciously like a backing track that never got its vocal recorded. Tom’s Ramsey Lewis-ish piano injections keep it from floundering but it’s still the runt of the litter and they shouldn’t have opened the album with it. It’s misleading. All is forgiven in a heartbeat, however. What follows is a spirited three-song medley taped live and my initial reaction was “Oh, yeah, now you’re talkin’!” as the broiling percussion of Jose “Chepito” Areas, Pablo Tellez and Raul Rekow sparks the group and the audience as if they ignited the fuse on a stick of dynamite. This leads to the speedy rock samba of “Carnaval” wherein Coster’s synth ride slices like a scalpel, a showcase of Devadip’s melodious guitar lines and an infectious group refrain on “Let the Children Play,” and then a cool blending-in of the no habla englais chanting of “Jugando” with Tom’s sizzling Hammond organ solo serving as the capper. A hard rock riff accompanied by some out-of- this-plane-of-existence percussion evolves into a furious jam featuring Coster as he slays all in attendance with his blistering ARP lead and Devadip chars a permanent spot on the stage floor. At one point either Tom or Carlos summons an awesome, screeching yelp out of their instrument akin to a bobcat-with-its-tail-clamped-in-a-bear-trap’s wail that’ll make your hair stiffen, salute and stand at attention. Yowza!

Next up is a bit of a breather by the name of “I’ll Be Waiting,” a smooth, AOR number with a fine vocal provided by Greg Walker, one of the better warblers this combo has led to the mike stand. The song won’t change your life but it makes for pleasant listening and Carlos takes the opportunity to show that he has a lighter but no less talented touch on the fretboard toward the end. “Zulu” has a proggy, glistening intro provided by Tommy Coster Jr.’s enlightened piano but this instrumental soon escalates into a specimen of intense funk fusion wherein bassist David Margen impresses and Pete Escovedo takes out his frustrations on his hapless timbales. “Bahia” is a brief but grand instrumental filled with flashy Liberace-like piano flourishes and penetrating percussion staccatos. The in-concert version of “Black Magic Woman” comes next and let me say this about it. There are hordes of groups out there who trot out their hits with all the enthusiasm of kissing their wrinkled, moldy grandmother on the lips (you know who you are) but that doesn’t apply here. Santana’s faithfully-played-but-at-100-miles-per-hour rendition has astounding electricity and Devadip attacks his guitar as if he’s playing to save his soul. And when they slip into Gabor Szabo’s “Gypsy Queen” they set the arena ablaze. It’s mighty mighty. “Dance Sister Dance,” also live, is a joyous antidote for sour moods. Carlos’ guitar work is ferocious (his deft use of feedback blinds like a laser beam) and Tom does a bang-up job of channeling Chick Corea on the synthesizer all the way up to the tight-as-pyramid-blocks ending.

Devadip’s performance of his signature instrumental “Europa (Earth’s Cry, Heaven’s Smile)” contains more passion than an afternoon of soap operas and his utilization of multiple guitar tones shows that this boy’s not just some one-trick pony. Santana scored yet another Top 40 single with their inventive re-arranging of the classic “She’s Not There,” due in no small part to the strong dynamics they adorned it with, not to mention Carlos’ scorching guitar effect and Escovedo’s hot timbale spasms. This is how to do a cover right! “Flor D’Luna” is a romantic instrumental with a dreamy groove and depth of field that doesn’t abandon their South American roots. One thing to keep in mind with the live tracks is that they were all recorded in front of throngs of palefaces in Germany, France and England so it’s not like they were partying with their Chicano homies in the Barrio. They weren’t earning free brownie points through shared ethnicity, if you catch my drift, thus they had to work hard for their harvest. And work they did. The vigorous, aggressive attitude they bring to “Soul Sacrifice” from their debut LP is mind-blowing. First they rev up the tempo and then the percussion section manned by Areas, Tellez and Rekow literally rattles terra firma below. Graham Lear’s drum solo is so extraordinary that they gave it the title of “Head, Hands & Feet” (What else could he use? His WHAT? Ooo. That’d leave a mark.) so he could collect royalties from it. Devadip’s ride is as wild as a free-range filly and Tom tears into his Hammond organ with a vengeance before they enter a serene “bring it down” section that is transcendent via some calming, airy synth strings. They then proceed to build it back up and toss in a few more tortured bobcat screams on their way to the impossible-to-be-improved-upon climactic ending that brought the Woodstock nation to its feet on Max Yasgur’s farm where their legend began.

“El Morocco” has a dramatic, one note opening that leads to a spirited fusion romp pitting Coster and Carlos in a “top this lick” contest that gets pretty frenzied. It morphs into a Jeff Beckian rocker in the second half and exits in a jazzy flair. Nice going, amigos. “Transcendance” (Not a misspelling. It’s a trick.) sports a mysterious onset and then slides into an R&B backdrop for Walker’s silky vocals. Tom emits an expressive ARP ride and then they jump into double-time for Devadip’s shredding extravaganza before the whole shebang collapses for some soulful riffs from Greg’s tonsil cavern. They end with the group on stage again for a performance of “Savor” that storms out of the gate at full gallop with frenetic drums, timbales, and congas in the dust-raising forefront. I’ve always been a fan of the Hammond organ and Coster gives my hero Brian Augur a run for his money here. A spectacular percussion break follows and all I can say is Holy Maracas, Batman! I LOVE this stuff! They transition seamlessly into “Toussaint L’Overture” for the finale and, while Carlos’ doesn’t exactly take a nap stage left, Tom once again cranks up his Hemi-powered Hammond and drives it hard, generating the unstoppable inertia of a 40- ton locomotive in the process. Devadip closes the deal with guitar death screams that leave the audience flabbergasted and begging for more.

Still not convinced that Santana’s one of the best in all of progdom? Consider this. They’re one of the purest groups ever in that they’ve never once relied on anything but their music. Yes and Pink Floyd had their dazzling stage shows. Genesis and ELP had their eye- boggling lighting effects. Others had charismatic front men or a to-die-for roster of untouchable virtuosos. But Santana was just a band of dedicated musicians giving their all every time the microphones were turned on whether in the isolation of the studio or in the presence of tens of thousands. No gimmicks, just undiluted enthusiasm and raw power sprinkled with an occasional touch of grace. “Moonflower” isn’t their best (“Caravanserai” holds that trophy) but it contains everything I adore about these guys and the respected institution they built with their own hands and hearts over long years of commitment to just making good music together.

Santana Moonflower (1977)

From jazzmusicarchives.com

Say what you may about Carlos and his cronies. Like them or not, they’re unquestionably one of the most unique bands in the world. No one combines Afro-Latin rhythms, Central/South American melodic sensitivities and top shelf jazz/rock fusion like they do and few try. They set the bar so high that even poor imitations are hard to find. But what attracts me to Santana more than anything else is their fire. Their unbridled passion. Their amazing energy. You know, the stuff that can’t be faked. All of which is in full, glorious bloom on “Moonflower.” I can’t say those things about all their albums, but most of them. For example, how they could follow up their incredible, ground-breaking, earth- shaking “Caravanserai” with the flat, insipid waste-of-time that was “Welcome” is baffling and almost unforgivable. Yet that was just a glitch.

All in all their impressive catalogue of work is fairly consistent and if all a jazzer knows about them is to be found on their greatest hits CD then that person is missing out on a lot of great, challenging music. In which case this collection of live and studio cuts will give the neophyte both an education and a new perspective on why Santana is so popular and revered well after over four decades have passed since their inception in 1967. On the other hand, if you’re a fan and, like me, didn’t bother to snap up a copy of this record for whatever cockeyed reason I urge you to put this one at the apex of your “to buy” list today. There’s not a bad track on it and it’ll remind you of why you were attracted to them in the first place. I must admit that the intro for the first song, “Dawn,” frightened the feces out of me because I thought for a moment that they were about to break into “I Will Survive,” something that I wouldn’t have. Thank God they didn’t. It’s just a fake-out. They mesh this odd little Tom Coster instrumental with Devadip Carlos Santana’s “Go Within” to create a short piece of contemporary jazz that sounds suspiciously like a backing track that never got its vocal recorded. Tom’s Ramsey Lewis-ish piano injections keep it from floundering but it’s still the runt of the litter and they shouldn’t have opened the album with it. It’s misleading. All is forgiven in a heartbeat, however.

What follows is a spirited three-song medley taped live and my initial reaction was “Oh, yeah, now you’re talkin’!” as the broiling percussion of Jose “Chepito” Areas, Pablo Tellez and Raul Rekow sparks the group and the audience as if they ignited the fuse on a stick of dynamite. This leads to the speedy rock samba of “Carnaval” wherein Coster’s synth ride slices like a scalpel, a showcase of Devadip’s melodious guitar lines and an infectious group refrain on “Let the Children Play,” and then a cool blending-in of the no habla englais chanting of “Jugando” with Tom’s sizzling Hammond organ solo serving as the capper. A hard rock riff accompanied by some out-of- this-plane-of-existence percussion evolves into a furious jam featuring Coster as he slays all in attendance with his blistering ARP lead and Devadip chars a permanent spot on the stage floor. At one point either Tom or Carlos summons an awesome, screeching yelp out of their instrument akin to a bobcat-with-its-tail-clamped-in-a-bear-trap’s wail that’ll make your hair stiffen, salute and stand at attention. Yowza!

Next up is a bit of a breather by the name of “I’ll Be Waiting,” a smooth, AOR number with a fine vocal provided by Greg Walker, one of the better warblers this combo has led to the mike stand. The song won’t change your life but it makes for pleasant listening and Carlos takes the opportunity to show that he has a lighter but no less talented touch on the fretboard toward the end. “Zulu” has a proggy, glistening intro provided by Tommy Coster Jr.’s enlightened piano but this instrumental soon escalates into a specimen of intense funk fusion wherein bassist David Margen impresses and Pete Escovedo takes out his frustrations on his hapless timbales. “Bahia” is a brief but grand instrumental filled with flashy Liberace-like piano flourishes and penetrating percussion staccatos. The in-concert version of “Black Magic Woman” comes next and let me say this about it. There are hordes of groups out there who trot out their hits with all the enthusiasm of kissing their wrinkled, moldy grandmother on the lips (you know who you are) but that doesn’t apply here. Santana’s faithfully-played-but-at-100-miles-per-hour rendition has astounding electricity and Devadip attacks his guitar as if he’s playing to save his soul. And when they slip into Gabor Szabo’s “Gypsy Queen” they set the arena ablaze. It’s mighty mighty. “Dance Sister Dance,” also live, is a joyous antidote for sour moods. Carlos’ guitar work is ferocious (his deft use of feedback blinds like a laser beam) and Tom does a bang-up job of channeling Chick Corea on the synthesizer all the way up to the tight-as-pyramid-blocks ending.

Devadip’s performance of his signature instrumental “Europa (Earth’s Cry, Heaven’s Smile)” contains more passion than an afternoon of soap operas and his utilization of multiple guitar tones shows that this boy’s not just some one-trick pony. Santana scored yet another Top 40 single with their inventive re-arranging of the classic “She’s Not There,” due in no small part to the strong dynamics they adorned it with, not to mention Carlos’ scorching guitar effect and Escovedo’s hot timbale spasms. This is how to do a cover right! “Flor D’Luna” is a romantic instrumental with a dreamy groove and depth of field that doesn’t abandon their South American roots. One thing to keep in mind with the live tracks is that they were all recorded in front of throngs of palefaces in Germany, France and England so it’s not like they were partying with their Chicano homies in the Barrio. They weren’t earning free brownie points through shared ethnicity, if you catch my drift, thus they had to work hard for their harvest. And work they did.

The vigorous, aggressive attitude they bring to “Soul Sacrifice” from their debut LP is mind-blowing. First they rev up the tempo and then the percussion section manned by Areas, Tellez and Rekow literally rattles terra firma below. Graham Lear’s drum solo is so extraordinary that they gave it the title of “Head, Hands & Feet” (What else could he use? His WHAT? Ooo. That’d leave a mark.) so he could collect royalties from it. Devadip’s ride is as wild as a free-range filly and Tom tears into his Hammond organ with a vengeance before they enter a serene “bring it down” section that is transcendent via some calming, airy synth strings. They then proceed to build it back up and toss in a few more tortured bobcat screams on their way to the impossible-to-be-improved-upon climactic ending that brought the Woodstock nation to its feet on Max Yasgur’s farm where their legend began.

“El Morocco” has a dramatic, one note opening that leads to a spirited fusion romp pitting Coster and Carlos in a “top this lick” contest that gets pretty frenzied. It morphs into a Jeff Beckian rocker in the second half and exits in a jazzy flair. Nice going, amigos. “Transcendance” (Not a misspelling. It’s a trick.) sports a mysterious onset and then slides into an R&B backdrop for Walker’s silky vocals. Tom emits an expressive ARP ride and then they jump into double-time for Devadip’s shredding extravaganza before the whole shebang collapses for some soulful riffs from Greg’s tonsil cavern. They end with the group on stage again for a performance of “Savor” that storms out of the gate at full gallop with frenetic drums, timbales, and congas in the dust-raising forefront. I’ve always been a fan of the Hammond organ and Coster gives my hero Brian Augur a run for his money here. A spectacular percussion break follows and all I can say is Holy Maracas, Batman! I LOVE this stuff! They transition seamlessly into “Toussaint L’Overture” for the finale and, while Carlos’ doesn’t exactly take a nap stage left, Tom once again cranks up his Hemi-powered Hammond and drives it hard, generating the unstoppable inertia of a 40- ton locomotive in the process. Devadip closes the deal with guitar death screams that leave the audience flabbergasted and begging for more.

Still not convinced that Santana’s one of the best in all of jazzdom? Consider this. They’re one of the purest groups ever in that they’ve never once relied on anything but their music. Yes and Pink Floyd had their dazzling stage shows. Genesis and ELP had their eye- boggling lighting effects. Others had charismatic front men or a to-die-for roster of untouchable virtuosos. But Santana was just a band of dedicated musicians giving their all every time the microphones were turned on whether in the isolation of the studio or in the presence of tens of thousands. No gimmicks, just undiluted enthusiasm and raw power sprinkled with an occasional touch of grace. “Moonflower” isn’t their best (“Caravanserai” holds that trophy) but it contains everything I adore about these guys and the respected institution they built with their own hands and hearts over long years of commitment to just making good music together.

Santana Moonflower (1977)

From amazon.com

Review Moonflower is mix of revisited older songs, some new material, and live tracks.

I listened to it first when I was 16 – when the cover “She’s Not There” was in the charts, and now, over 20 years later I still play it regularly. At the time though I was blown away by one particular track-the live rendition of Europa(Earth’s Cry Heaven’s Smile). You’ll find the original studio recording of Europa on the Amigos album; and a weak and flacid thing it is. Put it this way; I have a “Carlos Santana” guitar tablature book, featuring Europa, and after 6 months I’d managed to play the instrumental note-for-note, just in the same way as played on Amigo’s.

I can forget trying to play it the same way Carlos played in live. I don’t think it can be done, even by a top studio musician.

The live tracks, together with the revisited studio numbers take on a different hue altogether on Moonflower. Wait until the neighbours are out, turn the volume right up and…well, how can I describe it? Prepare to be amazed.

The first thing that hits you is the speed of the numbers – the tempo increases markedly for most of them; nice easy blues/latin tracks become out-and-out heavy rock epics. The second thing that gets you is Carlos’s guitar tone. It’s not the weedy, processed sound you get now (I do wish he had never met Paul Reed Smith!) but rather a deep, huge tone extracted from his Yamaha. The sound produced is huge, and glorious to listen to.

The third thing is the dynamics of Carlos’s playing. With the gain and volume up, feedback is readily available, and he uses it to sustain notes seemingly forever (Europa). Grace notes (and chords!) abound everywhere. He’s eager to solo, almost impatient for the superb Tom Costa to finish his bit. The other musicians contribute just as much – providing a confident base for Santana to go off on wild flights of solo melodies. Black Magic Woman/Gypsy Queen is transformed into a powerful beast with pace and the melodies that the original recording just hinted-at. Let The Children play benefits from a huge increase in well, how can it be put? Joy. That’ll be the word.

Dance Sister Dance has one of the most infectious riffs your likely to hear. I’ll be Waiting has a platinum-pure solo. And Europa? Well, it’s just perfect. Scary (how could someone write and play something that good) hugely melodic, with a sonic landscape that is unforgettable. The contrast with the Amigos version is just ridiculous – the live version is the one to remember, packed full of sustain and feedback and pace – my God pace, with legato passages that are simply incredible.

There’s no other Santana album like Moonflower. It was the perfect combination of a superb band, great songs, both new and old, high production values and of course Carlos at his magical best. I can’t listen to his “recent” material, featuring guests of marketable value but questionable talent. 2005 will apparently see a “Latin-style” Santana album released amongst others. Although the fingers are slower, I’d love to see him ditch the PRS’s and wipe the dust off the old SG2000 and give his newer fans a brief insight into Santana music that could send shivers down your back.

Review If you’re looking for the one Santana album that encompasses all of his talents, this is it. If you’re not familiar with Santana, and are considering his music, this album is it. A collection of live cuts and studio tracks, this album was released right “Amigos”. It was released during a period when Carlos Santana was pursuing some serious spiritual pathways, and the music is the better for it.

The band for the live cuts was one tight group, and, in my opinon, the best collection of musicians Carlos (or Devadip Carlos, as he called himself at the time)has ever assembled. I can not offhand think of another Santana album where the band is so astonishingly enegetic and incredibly tight. The jazz/fusion influence of Tom Coster’s keyboard playing can be felt throughout.

For me, the tracks that particularly stand out are “Europa”, “Transcendance”, and “Soul Sacrifice”. The live version of Europa, with its increaed tempo and careful use of feedback, and the extended jamming near the end, is worth the price of the album. “Transcendance” is a studio cut with an exteded guitar jam that’s fast and tight..no sloppy notes here. The live “Soul Sacrifice” is the album’s tour de force, where no ounce of energy is spared. The guitar work is beyond description. The closing power chords rank right up there with the most powerful rock chords ever recorded. As reviewer GLM accurately states, this track will “test your speakers” and “make your ear wax fall out”. It’s tough to listen to this one and not feel pumped afterward, wondering what hit you.

The one drawback to this CD, and it’s a minor one, is that the tracks too frequently alternate between studio and stage. If played right through, the arrangement of the tracks can present too much of a mood change. You can easily overcome this by suitably programming your player. Also, the opening track, Dawn/Go Within, gets cut off way too early. Just as the groove is really picking up and Tom Coster is laying down some great piano chords, the song fades and segues into the live “Carnaval”.

This album says it all for Santana.

Santana Moonflower (1977)

From Sounds

This is the album that should have been called ‘A Period of Transition’. Not that it has anything to do with Van Morrison, but it does have a lot to do with an artist coming to the end of one phase in his career and wondering where the hell to go next. Thinking about it, perhaps ‘Holding Action’ would be a better title, because that is what Moonflower is.

It’s a double. Just under three sides worth of live recordings and just over one side’s worth of new studio cuts (the album’s running order mixes live and studio cuts in a way which, remarkably, highlights the respective strengths of each setting rather than destroying continuity as one might expect). In some respects one has to doubt the wisdom of issuing a package like this at all. After eight years Santana can’t be in the market for many new converts. Dedicated (and rich) fans may already have the live versions of Santana standards contained here on the Lotus, live in Japan, triple-album set. And while the new material will doubtless satisfy the faithful (though they may resent forking out the price of a double-album for it) it is unlikely to ignite the interest of those who have passed Santana by in the past.

The album proves two things. Firstly that while Carlos Santana may be getting old in the tooth by today’s standards, he has lost none of his bite as a stage performer; indeed the performances here go a long way to illustrating that Santana is still one of the most energising and inspiring acts to be heard live – a fact not fully borne out by his recent Crystal Palace performance. And secondly that as far as studio work is concerned the current Santana band are treading water.

Up until now Santana’s career can be divided into three stages: the jugular, ‘barrio’ rock of his first three albums – a unique blend of blood, guts and mind-expanding substances; the more reflective, mystic jazz experimentations of Welcome and Revelations; and, more recently, the tentative return to the hot-blooded latin dance idioms of the early years, tempered with straightahead funk or more sophisticated soul, jazz and/or flamenco styles (as on Amigos and Festival).

The new studio material on Moonflower seems to signal the end of phase three, without really giving any coherent indication of what stage four may be. Of the five new instrumentals, three – ‘Bahia’, ‘Zulu’ and ‘El Morocco’ seem almost perfunctory in application: the sort of subtle yet fiery workouts that Santana could probably perform in his sleep, with guitar and Tom Coster’s keyboards alternating leads while the rest of the band crackle along with customary precision behind them. The remaining two are more interesting. ‘Go Within’ is a surprising tune to find here; a casual, jazzy strut led by Coster’s piano (and, I would guess though my pre-release copy doesn’t specify, written by Coster) in a manner reminiscent of Ramsey Lewis’ ‘Wade In The Water’. ‘Moonflower’, on the other hand has a more familiar ring to it, beign one of those effortless, drifting guitar-led melodies – like ‘Europa’ or ‘Samba Pa Ti’ – that Santana does so well. The beauty of this sort of tune is that in anybody else’s hands it would sound no more than nice – that most damning of adjectives – and possibly banal, but Santana’s playing imbues it with a grace and beauty to seduce the most jaded romantic.

Of the three new vocal cuts, both ‘Transendance’ and ‘I’ll Be Waiting’ fall neatly into territory previously explored on the last album, Festival – tranquil soul ballads, rich and soothing, beautifully sung by Greg Walker, one of the better vocalists in the Santana band’s history. That leaves ‘She’s Not There’, the old Zombies’ hit which lends itself surprisingly well to a sharp, samba-fled treatment, an urgent, buzzing guitar sound underpinning the rather edgy mood of the song.

The live cuts should be familiar to everyone. ‘Carnaval’ and the exultant ‘Let The Children Play’, both from Festival; and old favourites like ‘Black Magic Woman’, ‘Soul Sacrifice’, ‘Gypsy Queen’, ‘Savor’ and ‘Toussaint’. It says something for the enduring quality of Santana’s music (and not a little for this particular band) that after a few years and countless hearings these numbers sound as vital and exhilerating as they ever did. It also says something for the listener’s patience if they can sit through all four sides of the album at once. Santana is a guitarist who can burn his fretboard with a grace, passion and fire which gives him few, if any, peers. His ‘singing’, highly lyrical approach to playing makes him one of only four or five guitarists in rock who’s style could truly be said to be unique. Yet over four sides the distinctive threatens to become the repetitive.

It’s a risk any artist takes with a double album – that under close scrutiny their limitations become as apparent as their strengths. And Santana, it must be said, has his limitations. But who’s scrutinising? He is still one of the most exciting guitarists in the world. And Moonflower will keep you dancing until he decides which direction to strike out in next…

Santana Moonflower (1977)

From starling.rinet.ru

Actually more interesting than any other Seventies’ album Carlos ever put out since Lotus; tucked in between some of his less compelling pieces, it may easily become lost in the sea of filler, but I’d advise you try to grab it by the goatee and pull it up anyway. This is a double album, half-live, half-studio; the difference from the usual pattern is that the studio and the live stuff are interspersed with each other, which gives the album a rather confused feel but, on the other hand, works better in the ‘assimilating’ aspect.

I suppose, for instance, that dragging out all the studio stuff would only qualify this studio part as a small notch above Festival, but when it’s scattered around and meshed in with the live performances of ‘classics’, it gets a wee bit more intriguing, if not necessarily more melodic or anything.

The live half of this hardly holds a candle to the energy and vigour of Lotus, but at least it doesn’t wear you out like Lotus does. I’d say that the only serious misfire here are the live renditions of three Festival numbers in a row – since the record had just come out, these tracks are performed strictly by-the-book and aren’t all that different from the studio versions. Of course, they do the blistering ‘Jugando’ on there, but they also do the murky ‘Carnaval’, so let’s just shut up on that matter.

Instead, let’s concentrate on ‘Black Magic Woman/Gypsy Queen’ (great version with great singing) and a reworking of ‘Soul Sacrifice’, done in a slightly more hard-rockin’ and chaotic manner than before, so it’s inferior to the Woodstock version, but it still kicks, and Graham Lear does a great job in taking over Mike Shrieve’s drum solo duties, even if, alas, he’s no Mike Shrieve. Poor Mike Shrieve, where are you?

Throw in a faithful rendition of the ‘dance-prog tune’ ‘Dance Sister Dance’ and a stunning ‘Toussaint L’Ouverture’, and the live performance is as worthy as possible. Oh well, we can’t always get that spark of genius that happened to visit the band during the Lotus performances, but shouldn’t a good word be put in for pure, unhindered professionalism? Good lads. The studio stuff, then, is not tremendously interesting – but at least it’s not such an obvious exercise at selling out as on the previous two albums.

The tracks are relatively diverse, and there’s not even a single generic Latin dance number, although there are a few generic Latin ’emotional’ instrumental ballads like ‘Flor D’Luna’. Can you spell ‘Latin elevator music’? This one’s close, mid-tempo elevator music as opposed to the slow-tempo elevator music of the intro to ‘Europa’ (off Amigos, also unfortunately present in a live version on here).

On the other hand, you get a thoroughly unexpected, excellent cover of the Zombies’ ‘She’s Not There’, done tightly, with verve and even featuring Carlos having a little bit of Hendrix-ey guitar fun near the end, unappropriate as it might seem in a Zombies’ cover. But hey! It’s my cover and I’m covering it any way it’s gonna be covered! Plus, ‘Zulu’ is rather gritty and even spooky in places, and ‘I’ll Be Waiting’ is a decent fusion exercise that mostly gets me yawning but I’m just not a fusion kind of guy, you know? I can respect this stuff but it hardly moves me. I’d better stick to mad guitar passages in ‘El Morocco’… oh shit, it also seems to be a fusion piece.

Santana almost sounds like Jeff Beck on there. Or was it Jeff Beck who… nah, wait, all those Beck albums came first, actually. Ah well. I dig fusion as long as it kicks some serious ass, i.e. displays some stunning guitar solos, and this one sure does. Is it just me or does Carlos really let loose on some tracks on here, toying with a bit more distortion and fuzz than he used to before? He sure gets some dirty tones on here – he always used to play clean. But maybe it’s just my superstition, and anyway, he’s not Mr Tony Iommi to really play all those ‘dirty’ notes. He’s Mr Clean-Cut Carlos Santana.

My biggest question about the album, though, concerns the lyrics of ‘Transcendence’: ‘Hello I’m back again/To share with you/My heart and soul/Are you surprised? I said I would/So here I am’. Yeah, sounds like a love song, but isn’t this some kind of a message? “You thought I sold out, well I did, but now I sold in”. The song is very good, by the way, deceivingly starting out as yet another adult contemporary piece of pap, but then cleaning itself up with a beautiful solo and speeding up later… with a second beautiful solo. Hmph. Oh yeah.

Moonflower is tremendously inconsistent, but it’s rather good than bad, and although I’d never agree with Wilson & Alroy that this might be the only Santana you’ll ever need (simply because if you’re gonna buy one Santana album, it should necessarily be an album featuring the classic Santana, not the ‘New Santana Band’), it’s still a worthy and serious effort. Definitely worth buying as a super-expensive Japanese gold edition import with 25-th anniversary special rare bonus track attached for extra price. Classic.

Sure beats out late period Beach Boys, if I might make a particularly painful and completely unnecessary reference.