Sean Trane
If you must avoid one record from this otherwise gret group, this woulmd be the one. Apart from another great artwork sleeve, this album has nothing to go for itself.
I mean, very few albums by artistes with Santana’s ethics (or aesthetics) come to such a disaster. Obviously Santana was also losing itself in the changing music business and trying to adapt its sound to common FM airplay. And the least we can say that they managed it brilliantly, quite unfortunately for music lovers. The real sad fact is that this metamorphosis was due to the old groups members rather than the arrival of newer and younger musicians in the line-up.
Musucally we have a real awful 80’s funk between Miiiiichael and his sister Janet crossed over with Hall & Oates and Journey-type of AOR. Hell some tracks are close Genesis Invisible Touch with Litgerwood’s vocal timbre fairly close to the hateful Phil Collins solo vocals. The lest lower-depth tracks being Brother Hood, Spirit and the closing instrumental Touchdown Raiders, but all three would’ve been fillers on the preceding Shango.
You see where I’m getting at? Well, don’t say I didn’t warned you.