Album Anniversaries: 50 Years of Spiritual Sex on Santana’s ‘Abraxas’

In 1970, the band Santana molded together African and Latinx influences with their namesake’s signature guitar sounds, creating a legacy and projecting Latin rock into ears across the world. 

In Album Anniversaries, writers honor their favorite aging albums and their subsequent legacies, revealing which projects have stood the test of time.

Written by Micaela Garza

Image courtesy of Mati Klarwein

“We questioned the painting, berated it, made love to it, prayed to it: We called it mother, we called it whore and slut, called it our beloved, called it Abraxas…”

This line, taken from Hermann Hesse’s “Demian,” is famously inscribed on the back cover of the 1970 hit record, Abraxas by Santana.

In the spiritually inclined mind of guitarist Carlos Santana, the painting in question was “Annunciation," a 1961 painting by psychedelic surrealist Mati Klarwein, which depicts the archangel Gabriel delivering news to the Virgin Mary of her conception of Jesus Christ. While the composition was not made with the intention of becoming the cover art for Abraxas, Santana decided upon first glance that Klarwein had captured the essence of the album it was creating in bountiful, psychedelic detail. In Jungian theory, Abraxas represents a being higher than God, something utterly unattainable and impossible to conceptualize, and that’s exactly what this album is meant to be. Combining spirituality and psychedelia in this way was not a foreign concept to Santana, who, just a year prior, delivered one of the most legendary sets at Woodstock while tripping on LSD and praying to God. What the painting represented was an album full of spirit, sexuality, and soul that took root in legendary Afro-Caribbean percussive sounds; completed by a distinctive electric guitar that howls into the void, much like the album’s first track, “Singing Winds, Crying Beasts,” suggests.

The track is ushered in by all kinds of percussive instrumentation: organ keys hitting legato quarter notes, roaring cymbal rolls, and twinkling chimes. It all comes slowly before Carlos Santana strikes a chord on his electric guitar. The chord grows, then falls, like the breath of the titular beast — and this breath is what keeps the windchimes "singing." Eventually, a repetitive conga pattern drives the song forward as the keys and electric guitar howl at each other like wild animals, while the chimes and cymbals continue to move behind them. These four minutes and 51 seconds of rhythmic storytelling set a spiritually symbolic tone for the album.

As the final cry of the beast fades, listeners are greeted with the most famous track of the album: a cover of “Black Magic Woman," a song originally written and recorded by Fleetwood Mac's Peter Green. Santana’s rendition of this song features the original guitar licks, but comes complete with congas, timbales, and a cowbell that create the signature Latin rock sound the band projected into mainstream music. Adding to the distinct Afro-Caribbean influence is “Gypsy Woman," a two-minute rhythm solo that primes the listener’s ears as the band switches from rock to salsa.

It is a common consensus among Afro-Caribbean spiritualists that “Humans and other natural objects are believed to be both natural and divine — participating in and influencing the spiritual world.” Some Caribbean religions emphasize the Biblical influence in their practice, while other religions utilize “orally transmitted songs, stories, and prayers." These songs are often set to the same instrumental style of Abraxas, and Santana beautifully encapsulates the spirit of the Caribbean with a rock twist. 

“Oye Como Va” is another cover on the album. Originally a salsa tune written by the legendary Nuyorican salsero Tito Puente, Santana’s reworking of the song replaces the honking brass section of a typical salsa band with a squealing electric guitar. This change transformed the song into a groovy hit for a second generation of listeners whose parents had jived to the original version in the decades before. The group’s rock rendition of “Oye Como Va” became a worldwide sensation and was eventually inducted into the Latin Grammy Hall of Fame in 2001 and Grammy Hall of Fame in 2002. These two cover tracks established Santana as the face of the Latin rock scene, inspiring mainstream media to embrace music beyond that of the English-speaking world.

Unlike many of the chugging rock songs of the '70s, Santana’s style often follows the compositional rules of jazz and salsa. Latin music typically features changing meter and syncopated rhythms, and Santana composed “Incident at Neshabur” around a changing half-time to triple meter led by the rhythm section. This trend continues through “Se a Cabo,” where percussionist Joe “Chepito” Areas performs a mid-song timbale solo following Carlos’ guitar solo. This rich instrumentation made live renditions of the album’s songs a spectacle. By switching from one instrument to another, listening through body language, and communicating through waves of sound, Santana created an experience unlike that of any other rock band of their time: when you watch Santana perform, you aren’t just watching a rock band — you’re watching a salsa band as well.

Photo courtesy of Tunes to Tube

Things get interesting, loud, and energetic with the track “Mother’s Daughter,” in which Gregg Rolie’s bluesy vocals take control of the soundscape, playing a call and response game with the guitar. 

I've got a woman that's treatin' me better.

She takes her time and she ain't so cruel.

I've got someone to take you over

Your mother ain't so bad,

What happened to you?

This is one of the few songs on Abraxas with lyrics, and by default, one of the few songs that affirms the sensual undertones that the instrumental tracks imply. Featuring motherhood and fornication in the lyrical content of the record was likely no accident, seeing as the album artwork depicts the scene of the Virgin Mary, but the lyrical content is cynical and humorous in true '70s fashion.

Instead of a seamless transition into the next song, the band chose to fade out before enchanting the listener with the slowed down, charming tune of “Samba Pa Ti." Another track without vocals, it tells a story of love through guitar solos. The tune’s title translates to “a samba for you." Despite the lack of language in English or Spanish, the track shifts the mindset of the listener to a tender, delicate place where love is as free in the air as the soundwaves of the guitar solos. Carlos Santana has noted that although many of the band’s tracks were a collaborative effort, this is the first song that he wrote entirely on his own; it is a peek into the captivating mind of an artist who has inspired musicians for decades since the song’s release.

While the prior song told a love story, “Hope You’re Feeling Better” features Greg Rollie asking a series of condescending questions to someone who is possibly a lover, wanderer, or just a tortured soul:

Is that you

Your eyes slowly fading?

Is that you

Your mind full of tears?

Is that you

Searching for a good time?

Is that you

Waitin' for all these years?

Like the rest of the album, it’s a song up for interpretation, relating back to the idea of Abraxas as an entity that can never be entirely conceptualized. The suave lyrical content and guitar-heaviness on this song embodies the far-out notions of 1970s rock and is perfectly placed right before the album’s end. As the final track, “El Nicoya” contrasts the previous sound entirely, featuring folkloric chants over Caribbean percussion. Although it’s stripped down in comparison to the bulk of the album, the song’s place as the album closer ties off a knot on the conceptual string of art that is Abraxas.

Fifty years have passed since Santana created a celestial album of spiritual sex between traditional Caribbean instrumentation and psychedelic rock. The legacy that this legendary band created has inspired an eternity of rock-lovers and musicians alike, and Santana deserves to be celebrated for blessing a mainstream audience with a taste of world music.