Ah Santana. One of those artists who was out of reach for me as a kid. Not that I’d have been into him then anyway. I was a little too young to appreciate him at the time, and my parents had no idea of anything beyond Andrew Lloyd Webber & Tim Rice musicals or John Denver. I knew some person of my age who had a Santana album in the mid seventies, but regarded it as too noodly and self-indulgent. I mean I wasn’t too far wrong was I? Having said that, this is ace. This particular performance taking place shortly after Brazil’s iconic World Cup win in Mexico. I imagine Carlos was pretty happy at the time, while back in Wallasey I wasn’t aware of music. It would be a year or so later that I started cultivating an interest in T. Rex and Bowie due to some iconic Top Of The Pops performances. And it wasn’t until a few years later still that I came to realise that there was were multiple subcultures alive and kicking that didn’t owe their existences to getting in the top 30. Miles Davis must have heard this stuff and said I want some of that, even though he had already set sail in that general direction. All those Santana albums I used to leaf through in the many Liscard record shops I inhabited. Where are they now? Great innit.
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