The 500 - #141 - Live At The Regal - B.B. King

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by New York-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.

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Album: #141
Album Title: Live At The Regal
Artist: B.B. King
Genre: Blues
Recorded: November 21, 1964
Released: 1965
My age at release: Not Born
How familiar was I with it before this week: A couple songs
Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #299, dropping 147 spots
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Worry, Worry

In the summer of 2004 my soon-to-be-wife and I made our first of many pilgrimages to New York City, a place that had loomed large in our imaginations thanks to decades of movies, sitcoms, and late-night talk shows. It was a city we felt we already knew, even though we’d never set foot in it. Thankfully, it did not disappoint.

Our week-long visit was a whirlwind of adventure, exploration, and sore feet. We packed our days with iconic experiences: nearly getting sunstroke in the bleachers of Old Yankee Stadium, wandering for hours through the lush pathways of Central Park, crossing the Brooklyn Bridge on foot, attending a taping of Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn and attending several comedy clubs. We were determined to see it all.

But we were rookies…classic tourists making every rookie mistake. We stopped in the middle of busy sidewalks to look up at skyscrapers, snap photos, or consult our trusty paper maps (yes, 2004 was before cell phones for us). In the hustle and bustle of Manhattan, blocking pedestrian traffic is practically a cardinal sin.

New Yorkers, we quickly learned, are a paradox: brusque on the surface, but surprisingly kind when it counts. They’ll happily help you find your way if you look baffled in a subway station, but don’t expect them to slow down too much while doing it. They have places to be. Now, after nearly ten visits to the city, we move through the streets like locals. We know which subway lines to take, where to grab a decent slice, and how to cross a street safely. And yes, we now find ourselves getting quietly frustrated by the wide-eyed newbies impeding the flow of pedestrians.

During that same trip, we experienced another first: a Broadway play. With so many dazzling options to choose from, we decided to go off the beaten path and see After The Fall, one of Arthur Miller’s lesser-known works which was playing at the American Airlines Theatre. Our choice was driven by the casting because Peter Krause, whom we adored from our favourite television series at the time, Six Feet Under, was playing the lead. Seeing him live on stage was surreal and unforgettable.

Before the show we made another classic rookie mistake – we grabbed drinks at a restaurant in Times Square. Don’t get me wrong, Times Square is a must-see. The light show alone is a sensory overload, and the energy of the crowds can electrify even the most cynical, jet-lagged traveller. But it’s also a tourist trap in the truest sense. Food, drinks and souvenirs are often double the price compared with spots just a few blocks away.

Before the curtain rose, we decided to grab a couple of beers at the venue next door to the theatre—Lucille’s Grille, part of B.B. King’s Blues Club. For me, it was more than just a convenient spot for a pre-show drink. In my early twenties, I went through a full-blown blues phase, diving deep into the genre’s raw-emotional storytelling. Naturally, I became a fan of B.B. King, often dubbed “The Undisputed King of the Blues”.

I also knew the story behind his beloved Gibson guitar, famously named Lucille. It wasn’t just an instrument, it was a symbol. After rescuing his guitar from a burning dance hall during a fight over a woman named Lucille, he gave his hollow bodied ES-355 axe the same name. It was supposed to serve as a reminder never to risk his life for something so reckless again.

As we settled into a “standing room space” in the packed Lucille’s Grille, I couldn’t resist sharing this bit of trivia with my ever-patient lady. She humoured me, as always. After 20 years together, she had learned that being a storyteller and factoid fanatic are part of my molecular structure and we quickly made our drink order to toast our first Broadway adventure.

Back home in Ontario, a pint of good lager would run about $4.00, so I confidently handed our waitress a crisp $20 U. S. bill, expecting change and maybe a smile. Instead, she leaned in close and said, with the kind of gentle pity reserved for wide-eyed tourists, “That’s $21.” I blinked. “Of course,” trying to mask my surprise with a casual shrug. I fished out another five and added, “Keep the change,” hoping the tip would smooth over my embarrassment and restore a shred of dignity.

Live at the Regal is King’s landmark live album, recorded on November 21, 1964, at the Regal Theater in Chicago and released in 1965. Often cited as one of the greatest live blues recordings of all time, the album captures King at the height of his powers, blending soulful vocals with his signature guitar style on his beloved Lucille.

The songs are terrific, but it is the audience’s interaction with King's charismatic stage presence that make the recording feel intimate and electric. The album has influenced countless guitarists, including Eric Clapton, Carlos Santana.

Clapton and King.

Despite its raw sound, the album was meticulously arranged. King often rehearsed his band to perfection before live shows. Live at the Regal is the second of two King records on this list. The first, Live at Cook County Jail, appears at #499 on The 500 and I wrote about it back in January, 2019. It, like this week’s album, was recorded near Chicago, Illinois. The Regal was one of the premier locations for black artists to perform on the Chitlin' Circuit. The others included The Howard Club in Washington and The Apollo in Harlem, New York.

B.B. King remains one of the greats in blues music. He can convey heartbreak, joy, longing and resilience in just a few notes on Lucille. His voice is equal parts velvet and gravel, capturing the ache and the soul of surviving hard times.

However, given the price of cocktails and food at his New York establishment, which remained open until 2020, five years after his death, I am not sure how he justified singing the blues. Unless he wanted to complain about having trouble spending all his money. 

The 500 - #149 - Self Titled Debut - Santana

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by New York-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

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Album: #149

Album Title: Self-Titled Debut

Artist: Santana

Genre: Latin Rock, Jazz Fusion, Psychedelic Rock

Recorded: Pacific and San Mateo Studios, California

Released: August, 1969

My age at release: 4

How familiar was I with it before this week: A couple of songs

Is it on the 2020 list? No

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Soul Sacrifice

Finnish composer Jean Sibelius (1865 - 1957) attracted both praise and criticism for his approach to form, tonality and architecture in his seven symphonies. His response to the criticisms was dismissive when he famously said: “Pay no attention to what critics say. No statue has ever been put up to a critic.”

Perhaps the six members of the San Francisco-based Latin rock band, Santana, reflected on the wisdom of Sibelius when they saw the early reviews of their 1969, self-titled debut record.

Santana (1969).

Rolling Stone magazine writer Langdon Winner called the record “a masterpiece of hollow techniques” and “a speed freak’s delight – fast, pounding, frantic music with no real content”. He further compared the music’s effect to the drug methedrine (a powerful stimulant popular in the drug culture of the late ‘60s) saying, (the music) “gives a high with no meaning…featuring repetitively, unimaginative playing amidst a monotony of incompetent rhythms and inconsequential lyrics”.

Robert Cristgau - Village Voice Magazine.

Meanwhile, on the other coast, New York Village Voice writer Robert Christgau echoed Winner’s sentiments calling the record “a lot of noise… (from) the methedrine school of American music.”


Ouch!


Initially formed in 1966 as The Santana Blues Band, the group evolved into a free-form jam band, experimenting with a fusion of blues, rock, and Latin rhythms—drawing inspiration from the Mexican and Nicaraguan heritage of two of its members. By the time they recorded their debut album, their name was shortened to Santana and the lineup included Carlos Santana (lead guitar), David Brown (bass), Gregg Rolie (keyboards and lead vocals), Michael Shrieve (drums), Michael Carabello (congas and percussion), and José "Chepito" Areas (timbales and percussion).

Santana (1969).

The group performed at the now legendary Woodstock Music Festival on Saturday, August 16, 1969, a week before the release of their debut title. The group performed six songs from their upcoming album including two cover songs – Jin-Go-Lo-Ba by Nigerian percussionist Babatundi Olatunji and the Willie Bobo song Fried Neck Bones and Some Home Fries. I’ll admit, I enjoyed a phonetic preoccupation when I discovered the name “Ba-ba-tundi Ola-tun-ji” and the pleasing syllables that comprise it. I caught myself repeating it as a mini-mantra.

“Ba-ba-tundi Ola-tun-ji” (give it a try).

Thirty-one years after its release, Santana’s debut album received a far warmer reception from Rolling Stone. In 2000, critic Chris Heath described the record as “thrilling ... with ambition, soul and absolute conviction – every moment played straight from the heart.” This marked a dramatic shift from the magazine’s original 1969 review, which had dismissed the album as hollow and frantic. By 2003, Rolling Stone included it at #150 on its original list of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, nudging it up to #149 in the 2012 revision. However, it was dropped from the most recent update in 2020. The album’s fluctuating status lends weight to Jean Sibelius’s famous observation: “No statue has ever been put up to a critic.”

Santana on the cover of Rolling Stone magazine 1n 1999.

Sibelius himself, of course, has a monument in his honor -- an elegant sculpture nestled in a Helsinki park that also bears his name. His legacy extends further: an academy, a high school, a museum, several streets across Europe, and even a widely used music notation software all carry his name.

Sibelius Monument in Sibelius Park, Finland.

Carlos Santana, who recently celebrated his 78th birthday, has built a legacy just as enduring. He’s been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, earned a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, and ranks #20 on Rolling Stone’s list of The 100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time. With over 100 million records sold worldwide, his influence spans generations.

One imagines Santana has long since recovered from the early barbs hurled by critics like Langdon Winner and Robert Christgau. And if not, he can surely take comfort in nearly six decades of musical achievement – or, at the very least, in the towering pile of money he’s earned. Big enough to fund a statue of his own.

The 500 - #207 - Abraxas - Santana

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

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Album: #207
Album Title: Abraxas
Artist: Santana

Genre: Latin Rock, Jazz Fusion, Psychedelic Rock
Recorded: Wally Heider Studio, San Francisco; Pacific Recorders, San Mateo, California

Released: September, 1970
My age at release: 5
How familiar was I with it before this week: Very

Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #334, dropping 128 spots
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Samba Pa Ti

Album cover for Santana's Abraxas.

The other day while cleaning and organizing cupboards I found a high school yearbook. It was a tome from 1985, documenting the half year I spent at H.B. Beal Secondary School, improving my grades to get into university. As I flipped through the pages I was struck by how homogeneous faces seemed. More than 90 percent of the headshots were Caucasian and the last names were almost exclusively Western European (English, Scottish, Irish, German, Dutch, Portuguese and French). Ironically, Beal was considered one of the most "multicultural" schools in London, Ontario, in 1985 because it was centrally located and offered a  wide variety of technology and industrial programs, along with arts and academic options.

H.B. Beal Secondary School in downtown London, Ontario.

Currently, I work with a wonderfully diverse group of students at a local elementary school, most of whom are first or second generation Canadians. I could easily run a mock United Nations learning activity because the mix includes students with origins in Egypt, Korea, China, Vietnam, Jordan, Syria, Palestine, Morocco, Finland, Lebanon, Kosovo, Pakistan, India, Albania, Turkestan and the Bahamas.

London's demographics are changing, but not as much as my classroom would lead you to think. According to the 2021 census, the most common ethnic or cultural origins in London are still English (21.9%), Scottish (17.4%), Irish (16.8%), Canadian (12.1%) and German (9.3%). In other words, 78 percent of my hometown's population still matches the pictures and names I saw in my 1985 yearbook.

An aerial view of London, Ontario looking North from the forks of the Thames River.

I've always loved learning about other cultures and, from a young age, wanted to be considered "worldly". As a teen, growing up in the pretty but terribly vanilla city of London, this was not an easy challenge. However, I found escape and knowledge through movies at the local repertory cinema  (The New Yorker), novels and magazines at the library and used book stores (City Lights) and, of course, the music I purchased in record shops.

City Lights Book Shop in London, Ontario.

When I picked up my first copy of Abraxas, the second studio album by the San Francisco Latin Rock band Santana, it was because I wanted to appear multi-culturally hip. I'd heard two of the record's biggest hits, Black Magic Woman and Oye Cómo Va, on classic rock radio. Additionally, the band's lead guitarist and founding member, Carlos Santana, was admired by many of my friends as a generational talent. Indeed, Rolling Stone Magazine's 2023 edition featuring the 250 Greatest Guitar Players of All Time lists Carlos Santana at position #11. Granted, it was a controversial choice that resulted in heavy criticism from music fans. The Mexican-born musician was ranked ahead of highly regarded guitar legends Keith Richards (The Rolling Stones), Stevie Ray Vaughn, Eric Clapton, Prince and Brian May (Queen).

Carlos Santan performing in the 70s.

Formed in San Francisco in 1966, the Santana band was a collaboration between Carlos Santana and keyboard player Greg Rolie. Having discovered the hippie and counterculture movement, The duo of Rolie and Santana eventually expanded to seven members, allowing them to blend elements of Latin American music with the blues and psychedelic rock sounds popular in Northern California -- Grateful Dead, Big Brother and the Holding Company, and Jefferson Airplane.

Santana 1971. (l-r): Neal Schon, Gregg Rolie, Michael Shrieve,
Michael Carabello, David Brown, Carlos Santana, José "Chepito" Areas

The group's debut album, the self-titled Santana, was panned by critics, with Rolling Stone Magazine writer Langdon Winner calling it "a masterpiece of hollow technique" and "a speed freak's delight – fast, pounding, frantic music with no real content." Rolie and Santana were brutally critiqued for "playing repetitively unimaginative (music) amidst a monotony of incompetent rhythms and inconsequential lyrics."

The self-titled debut from Santana (1969).

To their credit, the band responded a year later with a strong second release, Abraxas. The title took its name from the Gnostic god, with each letter of the biblical Greek word ἀβραξάς representing the seven so-called “classical planets” (those that can be seen with the naked eye –  the moon, the sun, Mercury, Venus, Saturn, Mars and Jupiter. These celestial spheres are also connected to the days of the week and the 12 signs of the Zodiac.

At the time, my friends and I were enamoured by all things mystical and magical and, in my role as Dungeon Master, I was quick to write the god Abraxas into the Dungeons and Dragons campaigns I presented each Sunday when we gathered to participate in the role-playing game. Back then, evangelicals lambasted the popular pastime, claiming it had overtones of the occult and devil worship. However, we never took it that seriously. It was a fun distraction and playing the game made me a better writer, while the statistics-heavy rulebook strengthened my arithmetic skills.

Abraxas, the album not the god, was well received by music fans and critics. Carlos Santana and Greg Rolie seem to have figured out how to blend the psychedelic sound they were after, punctuating it neatly with a blend of jazz and Latin salsa rhythms. The first three songs on side one – Singing Woods, Crying Beasts; Black Magic Woman/Gypsy Queen; and Oye Cómo Va – segue into each other to create a beautifully hypnotic mini-suite. I enjoyed re-listening to it as much for this blog as I did when I purchased the record in 1981. Interestingly, all three of those musical pieces were written and performed by other artists. It seems that Santana and Rolie realized their strength was in interpretation, rather than composition.

Black Magic Woman - originally written and recorded
by Fleetwood Mac (1968).

Abraxas did the trick for me in the ‘80s. It helped me feel worldly and multi-culturally receptive as I navigated high school, basement parties and Dungeon and Dragons games in what I saw as, boring and bland, vanilla London, Ontario. Little did I know at the time that Santana’s drummer was from my hometown. Graham Lear, who attended Prince Charles and Churchill Public School, as well as Clarke Road Secondary School, began his professional music career with the London (Ontario) Symphony Orchestra at age 13. Eventually, he joined popular Canadian musician Gino Vanelli and helped record on some of his earliest records. He also toured with REO Speedwagon and Paul Anka but, from 1977-1987, he was the drummer for Santana,  pounding out those sweet Latin grooves.

Lear performing with Santana in 1977.

Lear was inducted into the London Music Hall of Fame in 2018. He still plays with his own Graham Lear Trio. He lives in Niagara-On-The-Lake with his wife, Penny, whom he married in 2008. So, as it turns out, my yearning for cultural experience didn’t mean having to leave my vanilla world. Through music, it was right there.