The Isley Brothers/Santana [extended]

• Santana [Columbia, 1969] C-
• Abraxas [Columbia, 1970] C+
• Get into Something [T-Neck, 1970] B
• In the Beginning . . . [T-Neck, 1971] B+
• Givin' It Back [T-Neck, 1971] B
• Santana III [Columbia, 1971] B
• Brother, Brother, Brother [T-Neck, 1972] B
• Caravanserai [Columbia, 1972] B-
• The Isleys Live [T-Neck, 1973] B-
• 3 + 3 [T-Neck, 1973] B+
• Welcome [Columbia, 1973] B+
• Love Devotion Surrender [Columbia, 1973] B-
• Live It Up [T-Neck, 1974] B
• Santana's Greatest Hits [Columbia, 1974] B-
• Borboletta [Columbia, 1974] C+
• Illuminations [Columbia, 1974] C-
• The Heat Is On [T-Neck, 1975] B
• Harvest for the World [T-Neck, 1976] B-
• Amigos [Columbia, 1976] B
• Go For Your Guns [T-Neck, 1977] B
• Forever Gold [T-Neck, 1977] B+
• Festival [Columbia, 1977] C+
• Moonflower [Columbia, 1977] B+
• Showdown [T-Neck, 1978] B
• Timeless [T-Neck, 1978] B+
• Inner Secrets [Columbia, 1978] C+
• Winner Takes All [T-Neck, 1979] C+
• Go All the Way [T-Neck, 1979] C+
• Marathon [Columbia, 1979] C
• Silver Dreams Golden Reality [Columbia, 1979] B-
• Havana Moon [Columbia, 1983] B+
• Tracks of Life [Warner Bros., 1992]
• It's Your Thing: The Story of the Isley Brothers [Epic/Legacy/T-Neck, 1999] A-
• Supernatural [Arista, 1999]
• The Essential Santana [Columbia/Legacy, 2003]
• Power of Peace [Legacy, 2017] ***

See Also:

• The Isley Brothers
• The Isley Brothers & Jimi Hendrix
• Santana
• Carlos Santana
• Devadip Carlos Santana
• Carlos Santana/Mahavishnu John McLaughlin
• Devadip Carlos Santana/Turiya Alice Coltrane

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-

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+

The Isley Brothers: Get into Something [T-Neck, 1970]
Five of the ten tracks on this album were r&b hits, and even "Girls Will Be Girls," a silly song that does not reflect "Take Inventory"'s astonishing views on the subjection of women, has its pleasures. But none of them went pop--or tore up the r&b charts--because none of them was more than a serviceable rehash. The first side rocks, the second side fluctuates, and let's hope they get into something else soon. B

The Isley Brothers & Jimi Hendrix: In the Beginning . . . [T-Neck, 1971]
Cut around 1965, while Hendrix was still part of the Isley's band, these casual sessions, remixed to push his guitar up with the voices, are far superior to Curtis Knight's Hendrix tapes. Make you wonder what would have happened if they'd been released at the time. Especially on "Move Over Let Me Dance," Hendrix anticipates effects Clapton introduced on "Sunshine of My Love," but in a less inflated context--could have blown some minds in Harlem. Not all of the music is don't-miss great. But it's all historic--and you can dance to it. B+

The Isley Brothers: Givin' It Back [T-Neck, 1971]
An exciting album in theory--cover versions by a genuinely "progressive" (at least self-contained) soul act of eight (mostly) excellent (mostly) rock songs. But only "Spill the Wine" (previously a progressive r&b hit), "Love the One You're With" (previously a progressive rock hit), and "Ohio" (no complaints) are exciting in practice. Ernie Isley just can't match Jimi's "Machine Gun," and soul is wasted on "Fire and Rain" and "Lay Lady Lay," which are more powerful in their understated originals. 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

The Isley Brothers: Brother, Brother, Brother [T-Neck, 1972]
Although the three Carole King songs seem a little tame after "Ohio" and "Cold Baloney," her simple messages fit the Isleys' lyrical-to-smarmy gospel credulousness quite neatly. But it's only on the three Isley originals that top off side one that this album makes itself felt, and interestingly enough none of them could be called "progressive": "Lay Away" and "Pop That Thang" are infectious groove tunes, while "Work to Do" is a compelling assertion of male prerogatives whose dire potential was presaged in 1969, when R.B. Greaves found himself forced to swap his wife for his secretary. Love and money, love and money--it's a polarity that tears you apart even more when they give you a (long) shot at both. 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-

The Isley Brothers: The Isleys Live [T-Neck, 1973]
"Featuring Ernest Isley on Lead Guitar," says a sticker on the back, and that's the pitch for these (slightly) extended remakes, their last album before moving to CBS. Problem is, all that makes Little Brother a Hendrix heir is that unlike most soul-trained guitarists he doesn't merely support the vocalist--he's loud, slow, dramatic. I prefer him to Robin Trower, say--fewer chops, apter context. But they really ought to let him do his thing in the studio. B-

The Isley Brothers: 3 + 3 [T-Neck, 1973]
I know the singing siblings have soft tastes in "rock," but where this side of a Warners promo could you expect to find "Summer Breeze," "Don't Let Me Be Lonely Tonight," and "Listen to the Music" on the same album? Still, with "That Lady" their most original original in years, Ernie soaring around thrillingly on his magic guitar, and the others popping their various things in ever more winning combinations, this is their sexiest music in years. Just because they manhandled "Fire and Rain" doesn't mean they can't improve on James's schlock. In fact, between their sense of rhythm and their knee-jerk sincerity they make all three covers work--except for the mental jasmine part, of course. 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+

Carlos Santana/Mahavishnu John McLaughlin: 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-

The Isley Brothers: Live It Up [T-Neck, 1974]
In which Ernie finally gets to make his studio album. What sound effects--the most technosoulful around. I mean, this guy isn't just whistling wah-wah. I do believe he likes Stevie's synthesizer more than Jimi's guitar, though. B

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-

The Isley Brothers: The Heat Is On [T-Neck, 1975]
This is well-nigh flawless Isleys--the rockish electric textures are muted nicely on side two, "Fight the Power" does its bit to politicize the radio, and Seals & Crofts won't steal any lyrics. But Ronnie Isley isn't getting any less unctuous--when he tries to talk someone into bed he recalls one of those guys who started wearing love beads to singles bars in 1968 or 1969. Progress requires ambition, but the two aren't identical. B

The Isley Brothers: Harvest for the World [T-Neck, 1976]
Ronnie croons, Ernie zooms, and if you suspect you've heard it all before, trust your instincts. 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

The Isley Brothers: Go For Your Guns [T-Neck, 1977]
By the time the competent enough first side was over, I felt completely fed up with their mellifluous bullshit, especially since I'd noticed the title "Voyage to Atlantis" on side two. But that disaster excepted side two is the most hard-edged they've recorded since moving T-Neck to CBS in 1973. Needless to say, the one about "Climbin' Up the Ladder" is even more passionate than the one about "Livin' the Life." Nor is it surprising that the title tune has no lyrics at all. There's no riot goin' on. B

The Isley Brothers: Forever Gold [T-Neck, 1977]
Best-ofs shouldn't have A and B sides, but that's how this one works for me--would have been stronger if they'd pulled something from Go for Your Guns, still on the charts when this was released. You want rock and roll, they'll give you rock and roll--when they want. You want insipid--well, millions do. Most Wishy-Washy Title of All Time: "(At Your Best) You Are Love." 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+

The Isley Brothers: Showdown [T-Neck, 1978]
Disco has been good for this band musically: the chic guitar-and-chant of the title tune, the slow, sensuous funk of "Groove With You," and the enigmatic air of "Ain't Givin' Up No Love" are refreshing variants on their basic moon-and-vroom, and both "Rockin' the Fire" and "Take Me to the Next Phase" are pure dance-peak ideology. Doesn't do much for their politics, though. B

The Isley Brothers: Timeless [T-Neck, 1978]
The Isleys are one of the great music-business success stories--in a decade when the artists were supposed to take over the industry, they're one of the few (along with Jefferson Lear Jet) to make a go of their own label. But though T-Neck puts out excellent product, product is all it is. This two-LP compilation, in which their Buddah-distributed material reverts to the Isleys' company (it's virtually identical to Buddah's 1976 The Best . . . package), reminds us that even back when they were inventing their shtick they were also victims of it. The only great songs are "It's Your Thing" and "Work to Do"; they reuse the same harmonies and dynamics again and again. The Isleys to own, probably--but there's no doubt you can live without it. 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+

The Isley Brothers: Winner Takes All [T-Neck, 1979]
What's wrong with your clockwork, guys? The two-record set is supposed to be a reissue or an in-concert. And the studio job is supposed to be one disc only. C+

The Isley Brothers: Go All the Way [T-Neck, 1979]
Except on the title cut, a rocking Rodgers & Edwards rip, the formula here is more exact than the best formulas should have to be. And if "The Belly Dancer" is their idea of specificity, I'd just as soon they keep it vague. Cher finds better lyrics. C+

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+

The Isley Brothers: Tracks of Life [Warner Bros., 1992]

The Isley Brothers: It's Your Thing: The Story of the Isley Brothers [Epic/Legacy/T-Neck, 1999]
Not counting them Beefheart digs, this triple is the single-artist box of the year by acclamation, and why not? It does an honorable job on a significant band whose catalog cries out for landscaping. And compared to the completist monoliths on the Isleys from UA and RCA, it distinguishes hills from dales pretty nice. But folks, this is only the Isley Brothers. They gave us "Twist and Shout" and "It's Your Thing" and, um, "That Lady," they hired Jimi Hendrix young and learned a few things, they formed their own label and held on like heroes. They have a great single disc in them. But who's up for canonization next? Frankie Beverly and Maze? A-

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

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]

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]" ***