Talkin’ About My Revolutions

People were speculating what kind of music Neal Schon and Gregg Rolie was going to come out with. Journey’s debut had hints of the old Santana band sound without the percussion. Neal and Gregg looked like they had something to prove and made an impact with the crowd right away. My first impression of Neal Schon was that he came across as like an egotistical Carlos Santana impersonator, based on his playing style and facial expressions. I remember that Dave and I agreed that Journey was a hot act and would be worth seeing again.

The crowd was getting noticeably toasted by this time, offering Journey loud intoxicated cheers of approval. After Journey finished, there was a rumor going around that Schon and Rolie would appear with Santana at the end of the night to do “Song of the Wind”.

Ironically, minutes later, “Song of the Wind” began playing over the PA as a clue that Santana would soon be taking the stage. It sounded so good through the sound system, and I started getting excited, realizing that Carlos would be playing live, right in front of me. The wait was over, Winterland went completely dark, and the pleasant fragrance of incense cut through the smoky air.

From the right side of the stage, out of the shadows, appeared a smiling Carlos wearing all white with his hair cut short. When the spotlight found him, the finish of his red and orange sunburst Les Paul gleamed and looked ready to take off. This was a beautiful sight. Carlos checked his volume knob, and then played a few quick bursts of melodic notes, using his trademark tone. The adrenaline hit! There was no doubt that I was in the presence of greatness.

Next, Carlos requested a moment of silence for prayer. This felt like an awkward moment as a few people refused to quiet down. Not respecting his wishes seemed so rude. Slowly, the dynamics of the music built with intensity, and the band already sounded far sophisticated above the previous acts.

I was on sensory overload panning across the stage, seeing Carlos, Mike Shrieve, Doug Rauch, Armondo Perraza, Chepito, Tom Coster, etc., realizing that, wow, what a lineup they have! Focusing on Carlos, his guitar intensity and tone was incredible. It was loud enough to be heard over the band, but melodic to the ear. His lead passages were like beams from heaven, piercing and soaring through the clouds of the Winterland smoke. As a bass player, I was also glued to watching Doug Rauch, knowing that he had a style and presence that completely inspired me. I remember, however, feeling a little saddened not hearing Gregg Rolie’s voice on “Black Magic Woman” and “Time to See the Sun.”

As the set progressed, the crowd became more and more obnoxious as loud demands for “Evil Ways” and the blowing of noisy air horns escalated to a major distraction. It became clear that Dave and I were in the minority for cheering Carlos’ new material and welcoming his message of spirituality. The majority of the audience was indulging in drugs, alcohol, cultural intolerance, and resistance to enlightenment.

Well into the set, Carlos paused to address the crowd and said something about sensing all the pain in the audience, and that he would cry for them. He even said he’d “play all night if you want me to.” I was thoroughly impressed by Santana’s courage and compassion, the way he tried to reach a hostile crowd that was not open to receiving his words of kindness. The situation got uglier, as a few fights broke out close to where we were standing.

After Santana played their last song and left the stage, Dave and I worked our way over to the nearest exit. I could be wrong, but I don’t remember them doing an encore. The rumored reunion of Carlos, Gregg, and Neal was obviously not going to happen and at this point of the night, I was more concerned about getting out of there safely.