60 Songs That Explain the '90s - “Smooth” - Santana

Episode Date: December 8, 2021

Rob explores the spiritual and sexy Carlos Santana. Assisted by Matchbox 20 vocalist Rob Thomas, Santana created what may have been the song of the decade, “Smooth.” Rob looks into the guitarist��s passion for collaboration and how record mogul Clive Davis took the ’70s rock legend and turned him into a 1990s Billboard chart-topping force. This episode was originally produced as a Music and Talk show available exclusively on Spotify. Find the full song on Spotify or wherever you get your music. Host: Rob Harvilla Guest: Leila Cobo Producer: Justin Sayles Associate Producer: Lani Renaldo Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Ringer Films and HBO's third installment of the music box series is listening to Kenny G. The film takes a humorous but incisive look at the saxophonist Kenny G, the best-selling instrumental artist of all time, and quite possibly one of the most famous living musicians. Listening to Kenny G unravels the allure of the man who played jazz so smoothly that a whole new genre formed around him and questions fundamental assumptions about art and excellence in the process. You can find Listening to Kenny G on HBO or HBO Max on Thursday, December.

Number second. Quick story, a tangent. It's borderline. So I was in choir in high school, right? Choir was a big whoop. Choir was cool in my high school. Transitive property, I was cool in high school. So my sophomore year, I'm 15 and I get into the men's chorus, prestigious. And that year, the men's chorus gets to take a trip to Chicago. We get on a bus. We're in suburban Cleveland. We play Yucre for five hours or so on the bus to Chicago. We sing Ave Maria. at some choir convention. We eat dinner at medieval times or a medieval times type establishment where you eat giant chicken legs and drink from chalises and shit.

The bad boys in the choir called the waitresses wenches. This detail is so implausible to me now that I've decided it must be true. It's crossed that implausibility threshold. Why would I make that up? And we also get to go see the Phantom of the Opera,

a Chicago production of the popular Andrew Lloyd-Weber musical the Phantom of the Opera. We arrive late, as I recall, due to a ticketing snafu. So picture 80-odd, doofy high school boys from out of town crashing the Phantom of the Opera midway through the first act. But all I ask of you is a jam. The chandelier drops. That's dope. We get back on the bus. We play Yucre for five hours. And for several weeks, everybody's got the Phantom of the Opera on the brain. So back at school, shortly thereafter. One day I walk into the choir room. It's between school periods or after hours.

And nobody's in there but this kid, Adam, an upperclassman, a frequent soloist, a men's chorus thought leader, etc. Adam doesn't see me. He's stacking chairs or something. And he is singing quite loudly to nobody a song from the Phantom of the Opera. I believe he is singing the music of the night. Like so. Except that Adam has changed the lyrics to the music of the night. And I walk into the choir room just in time to hear him sing,

Open up your mind that your penis strike behind. And it doesn't hit me right away. It takes up to 24 hours for true impact. You know how a missile or whatever you hear it coming after it hits. Have you ever had Gravity's Rainbow? But eventually it hits me. And it hits me hard. You can imagine the profound effect this has on me.

at 15 years old. Adam sang it just like that. He had a lovely voice. He sang the word penis beautifully. I stand before you now, a quarter century later, as an early 40-something suburban professional. I am functional. I run errands. I declare several dependents on my taxes. I display various external signs of maturity. And yet, this melodic and lyrical phrase, this brief tantalizing fragment from the anal sex-themed Phantom of the Opera pops into my head, let's say bi-weekly, roughly the 15th and 30th of the month, a direct deposit of the soul, if you will. And what fascinates me about this phenomenon, I can make this relevant, I can do this, I have convinced myself, I can do this, is the way a single musical phrase, a random but precise

convergence of melody, of lyric, of singer, of song, of songwriter, of listener. If it hits you, the listener just right on the right day in the proper mind frame in the ideal physical location. That musical phrase confused with your DNA and become part of you and be an indispensable part of your life for decades hence. I will concede that a 15-year-old boy hearing virtually anyone sing, open up your mind, let your penis strike behind, set to any melody in virtually any physical location. That is guaranteed to be a formative experience. That's just neurobiology. So it's way more fascinating.

We're getting closer. When the musical phrase is unremarkable, is pedestrian, is mundane. And yet an entrances not just you, but millions of astounded listeners across all demographics, across continents, across time. For example, I did it. Totally relevant. What is it exactly about Rob Thomas, frontman, match by. 20, emerging from the shadow of his blockbuster Orlando rock band for the very first time in his late 20s to mutter through faux radiostatic, a comically mundane observation about the weather

after 20 seconds of a righteous electric guitar from 50-something Mexican-American rock god Carlos Santana. What is it about this man? Talk singing the immaculately innocuous phrase, man, it's a hot one that makes it one of the most famous pop song opening lines of the past 25 years. What elevates this blithe temperature-based remark to the Holy Trinity of late 90s pop song opening lines? The two other opening lines in that trilogy are as follows. That's all the bare naked ladies we have time for. What's the other one again? That's all the smash mouth we have time.

for what makes Rob Thomas singing, man, it's a hot one, so compelling, so eternal. Could part of the attraction be doubt? Skepticism? Carlos Santana, talking to Rolling Stone decades later, remarked, quote, when I listened to the lyrics and heard it's a hot one, those lyrics are outside of time and gravity. I thought we had entered a place of immortality. But with all respect to Rob, I said, I'm having a little challenge believing you that what you're singing is true.

End quote. Is it really a hot one, Rob? And who exactly are you to say? Don't mansplain the weather to me, Rob. Irony. Yes. Sarcasm. Your sarcasm.

Not the singer's. Important element. Rob Thomas sings the line, Man, it's a hot one like he's hot. He sounds sweaty. Grant him that. Pop song Immortality often starts as somewhat of a joke. Ha ha ha, man, it's a hot one.

That's so dumb. I'll never forget it as long as I live. Both one week by the Bare Naked Ladies from 1998 and All Star by Smashmouth from 1999 are joky or at least relentlessly frivolous songs primed here in 2021 to be facetiously canonized by extremely online people such as myself and perhaps yourself. Memes before memes existed. Memes immemorial. Plenty of other 90s opening lines with that special sauce.

Of course, what's another one? Oh, right. Regrettably, that's all the Hootie and the Blowfish we have time for. Only want to be with you, Hootie and the Blowfish, 1994, rad song, tremendous karaoke song. But so even at the time, even on First Impact, both one week and All-Star somehow felt different, felt disposable, in a way that also made them seem immorough.

like take out food containers that will take centuries to biodegrade. Man, it's a hot one is your portal too, in my humble opinion, a much better and far less flagrantly whimsical song. But there is a crucial mystical aura to just those first five words out of Rob's mouth, something essential and bewildering about the way that line makes you go, what? Repetition. Don't forget repetition. How many times have you heard Rob Thomas give this particular weather report? Look, you got your blockbuster hit singles. You got your blockbuster hit singles that define a year or an era or a whole decade. But I'm here to tell you this is different. This is somewhat inexplicably much bigger than any of that, not inexplicably. I suppose we can explain. I suppose that's my job. My name is Rob Harvilla.

This is 60 songs that explain the 90s. And this week we're talking about smooth by beloved Latin rock band Santana, led of course by affable guitar god Carlos Santana. Here collaborating with the singer, songwriter, and semi-hunky walking thermometer Rob Thomas. Were you aware that smooth by Santana and Rob Thomas is the third biggest song of all time in the 63-year history of Billboard's fabled Hot 100 singles chart since 1958, quite a convoluted chart to regard historically, I imagine, in terms of the methodology changing over the course of 63 years from vinyl to CDs, radio play to streaming, et cetera. But still, top three of all time, according to Billboard, the authority. Here we go. Top five greatest of all time,

Hot 100 songs. That's what Billboard calls it. Number one, blinding lights by the weekend, recent edition. That's streaming for you. Streaming in cocaine. Number two. The Twist by Chubby Checker. Number three, smooth by Santana featuring Rob Thomas. Number four, Mac the Knife by Bobby Darren. And number five, uptown funk exclamation point by Mark Ronson and Bruno Mars. Weird chart. Dude, I love it.

I love it. Real quick. Number six, how do I live by Leanne Rhymes? Number seven, party rock anthem by LMFAO. God bless. Number eight, I got a feeling by the. black-eyed peas. Number nine, the macarena. Number 10, shape of view by Ed Shearin. Just chaos. This chart. Weird chart. Dude. I love it. I love it. Okay, fine. One more time.

Smooth was the last number one song of the 20th century. Smooth was the first number one song of the 21st century. Smooth reigned at number one for 12 weeks total, but it felt like two whole centuries. Smooth somehow sounds today like it's still the number one song in America today. At the 42nd annual Grammy Awards held in February 2000, Santana and his buddies won 45 Grammys in one night. Sorry, I'm exaggerating nine. Nine Grammys in one night for Team Santana, album of the year for Supernatural and then Record of the Year for the Performance of a Song and Song of the Year for songwriting awarded to Rob Thomas and his co-writer Etal Shure for Smooth. That's a clean sweep of the top three categories.

They should have just given Santana best new artist to Supernatural is like his 18th album, but the Grammys don't give a shit if the best new artist is actually new. Anyway, then Santana won six other Grammys. Nine total. Eight of those were his. Song of the Year is technically not his. eight Grammys for one guy and one night ties the all-time Grammy record, ties whom? You ask, Michael Jackson.

In 1984, the year after Thriller came out. Smooth by industry metrics is massive on a scale far beyond any song we have yet discussed. What's the deal here? Is this about the song or the industry that invented the metrics that measure the song? How hot are we talking exactly? There's a short answer and a long answer. Let's let Carlos Santana give the short answer. In 2019, Esquire did a big oral history of Smooth for the song's 20th anniversary.

So did Rolling Stone. Anecdotally Smooth is the most oral history-ed pop song ever, and each and every one of those oral histories is essential. Excellent oral history and material, smooth. But so Carlos Santana told Esquire, quote, this song belongs with something that people need every day in their lives air water and sex you can have food granola or whatever but basically air for your lungs water for your body and s e x for your psyche end quote granola here we have the relatively unknown san francisco rock band santana featuring righteous lead guitar

from then 22-year-old band leader Carlos Santana, performing the song Soul Sacrifice at fucking Woodstock, not Limp Biscuit Woodstock, the original legit 1969 Woodstock. Can you imagine Carlos Santana's rad guitar solo face on stage at the original Woodstock, the ecstatic cosmic wince on his face? Like he asked God to kick him in the night,

nuts and God complied. Carlos has got the black vest on with no shirt underneath. Carlos says as a world historically rad band gathered around him. Shout out the drummer, Michael Shreve. The top YouTube comment for this Soul Survivor Woodstock video reads, whole band is battling quantum realities, but the drummer is keeping the portal open. Fact check true. You want some drums? Of course you do. The first three Santana records, Santana in 1969, Abraxas in 1970, and Santana 3 in 1971. These first three records stand apart, I think, as a foundational trilogy in the distinguished academic field of rad guitar face rock and roll.

And I think Carlo Santana distinguishes himself immediately and permanently as a singular, towering, instantly recognizable guitar god type dude. His guitar playing to me is conversational. He plays guitar in complete thoughts, complete sentences. Even when he's shredding, it's legible, lyrical shredding. Sometimes his conversation is with you, the ideally stoned out of your gourd, late 60s, early 70s listener, and pretty much always, in a strikingly easeful and generous way,

it's a conversation with his band. This is two minutes into the song Waiting, the first song and the first Santana record. Dig the high-level philosophical debate transpiring between Carlos on guitar, and the lead singer Greg Roli on Hammond, Oregon here. You wanted some Hammond organ, right? Of course you do. If you only know pre-smooth Santana for his biggest, gaudiest singles,

you'll find those on these first three albums. Evil Ways, Oye Como Vah, Black Magic Woman, no one to depend on. The personal favorite. It's like a three-disc greatest hits collection. I got a quandary here. I feel super weird telescoping the next 25-plus years and 14 odd albums of Santana's history into like 15 seconds.

The glib insufficient apologetic summary is that, first of all, Santana, as a group of people, turns over personnel-wise several times in the next quarter century. Pro tip for all you young rockers out there, name the band after yourself. Make the band name just your last name. This makes it very difficult for your bandmates to fire you. this makes it much easier to jettison various bandmates. You know those colored timeline charts on Wikipedia to show you who's been in the band in which years and for how long? The Santana chart looks like a 50-story tall Atari game having a panic attack.

Also, glibly and sufficiently apologetically, Carlos Santana, starting right with the fourth Santana album, Caravan Sorai in 1972. He starts pushing the band Jazz Word. in the cosmic funk-inflicted Miles Davis fusion sense. A bunch of albums like that. Stay stoned out of your gourd. That's my advice. In the late 70s, early 80s, Santana, as a band turns back toward rock radio with modest success.

This is a song called You Know That I Love You from the 1979 album Marathon. We got Alex Lidger Tud on lead vocals. We got Alex and Carlos having a lovely lyrical conversation, albeit in a very goopy era-appropriate. Ooh, you could hear this on the radio in the early 80s sort of way. It was a top 40 hit, though. In 1981 on an album called Zbop, exclamation point, Santana had a top 20 hit called Winning.

It sounds like a karate kid movie, three years before the first karate kid movie. The deeper I get into this, the shallower it feels to me. The last pre-smooth Santana record came out in 1992. It was called Milagro. It's a very chill, easier listening fusion-type deal. lovely tributes to Miles Davis and a legendary San Francisco concert promoter Bill Graham.

But Carlos Santana doesn't sound like a guy chasing hits or pop clout in any sense. This song is called Make Somebody Happy. And it's just Carlos Santana, Guitar God, having an engrossing conversation with whoever wants to converse with him. All of which to say that every smooth oral history

begins with a version of the same anecdote. July 1997, Santana performs at Radio City Music Hall in New York City, one of the most famous concert venues in New York City. Santana as an enterprise is doing fine, a best-case scenario career now touching four decades. The following year, in 1998, Santana, the band, will be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame alongside the Eagles and Fleetwood Mac. That doesn't mean Santana as a band is over,

but it does mean Santana's legacy is assured. There is no need and for sure no expectation that Carlos Santana will attempt here in the late 1990s to be a present tense pop hitmaker. But that's what Carlos Santana wants. Carlos Santana is tired of his children, nagging him by observing that they pretty much never hear him on the radio anymore, the way they always hear, say, Eric Clapton. Very rude children. Carlos went to his spiritual advisor and told him. his spiritual advisor, he'd like to be on pop radio again. His spiritual advisor was like, who do you associate with being on pop radio?

And Carlos said, Clive Davis. So Carlos invites his buddy, Clive Davis, to this show at Radio City Music Hall. Clive Davis, one of the most famous and powerful music industry executives ever born. Janice Joplin, Bruce Springsteen, Whitney Houston, Barry Manil, Aerosmith, Pink Floyd, Kelly Clarkson, I could go on. I imagine he would go on. He's 89 years old today, and he still ain't retired. Clive Davis throws that ultra-lux party the night before the Grammys every year.

And yes, Clive Davis, quote unquote, discovered Santana, signed Santana to the band's first record deal with Columbia Records in the late 60s. Santana, here in 1997, ain't on Columbia Records anymore. Clive Davis does not work for Columbia Records anymore. He runs a big label called Arista now. He's still on top. He's back on top. So Carlos Santana comes to him and says,

put me back on top. And so that's what Clive Davis does. You know the old cliche about Big Shot movie directors, one for them and one for me. You're a big shot director. You grudgingly make a blockbuster, a Marvel movie, or whatever. Your heart's not totally in it,

but who cares? It makes a ton of money. You get a ton of clout. And you use that money in clout to fund your gritty, arty passion project, right? And then you're low on money again. You start over. Remember entourage?

Sometimes Vince makes Aquaman. sometimes he makes Queens Boulevard. That's a terrible comparison. One for them and one for me. This is the defining ethos of the Bonkers Blockbuster 1999-Santana album, Supernatural. One for you and one for me. That's the deal Clive Davis and Carlos Santana made.

Clive asks Carlos, do you have the discipline and the willingness to bring the energy of your live show to the studio? Big Shot record executives talk like this. Carlos says yes. Clive, recounting the story to Esquire, he tells Carlos, give me half the album and trust that I will find material that is integral to your artistry. The other half of the album will be whatever you want it to be.

Carlos says yes. Clive signs Santana. Again, Supernatural is 14 songs. Six of those songs are spirited, soothing, Latin rock, salsa, funk jazz jams, untroubled by any desire for outsized mainstream success. Carlos really lets it rip on the song Migra, if you've ever subscribed to a magazine with the word guitar in the title. Whereas the other eight songs on Supernatural are high-profile,

pop radio-minded collaborations with the finest hitmakers 1999 had to offer. You got Dave Matthews. You got Everlast at the apex of his surly singer-songwriter solo breakthrough. You got Eagle Eye Cherry. Stay tonight is still a jam. I will not countenance any Eagle Eye Cherry slander. You got Lauren Hill and Silo together. That's a gimmy.

You got fucking Eric Clapton. Fine. You got the rad Mexican rock band Mana. They'd been around for a decade. They got their own MTV Unplugged album in 1999. They're expansive rock god types in the Santana lineage. Who else? Ah, yes.

You got the product GNB, an R&B duo brought to prominence by Wyclef Jean, late of the food. G's Carlos Santana and the product G&B hook up for a jaunty little hip-hop-ish tune called Maria Maria. Just some jovial guys having a fruitful musical conversation. It's rude of me to not play the electric guitar part of Maria Maria, isn't it? Well, let's not be rude. That's the second biggest hit on Supernatural.

A 170 million plus plays for Maria Maria on Spotify, durable little tune. I'd underestimated Maria Maria. DJ Khaled and Rihanna sampled it a couple years ago for that song Wild Thoughts. The Waluigi remix of Wild Thoughts is killer. If you think I'm not going to play you a clip from the Waluigi remix of Wild Thoughts, you don't know me very well. Say this for Supernatural is a full album experience. It doesn't feel mercenary or sweaty or thirsty or like a split personality fiasco

where half the time Santana is doing the usual vibey Santana stuff and the rest of the time Santana's nervously overreaching for a pop hit to impress his rude kids. It all flows together. It coheres. One for you becomes one for me and vice versa. This record went diamond. 10 million plus copies sold in the United States. That's hard to do even with a couple giant hit singles.

Supernatural holds up. Or maybe it's enough that it just holds steady. It's like a medium, raucous pre-gentrification block party where 70% of the partyers were maybe alive when the original Woodstock happened. And now they just prefer to sit the whole time. Have a good sit. Take a load off. Open up your mind. But you feel that, right?

Is the air conditioner busted? It's getting a little uncomfortable in here. What's the simplest way to describe what appears to be happening? Last time, I promised. You know the old music industry? I don't hear a single. The big bad douchebag, empty suit, A&R guy tells the valiant young, passionate rock band, I don't hear a single.

I need a hit single. Clive Davis didn't hear a single. Not supernatural yet. At least with Clive, the suit ain't empty. Put it that way. A spunky young songwriter named I Tal Shure thinks she's got just the song. A spin on classic Santana. Songs called Room 17.

Room 17. In this song is a hotel room. in which is transpiring an illicit romantic trist. I think someone's fucking in there. That's one of Ronda Rousey's lines in the entourage movie. I commit to my tangents. Clive Davis and his entourage love the music to Room 17, but they know that Carlos Santana,

consultor of spiritual advisors, won't go for an illicit trist type song. Actually, are you familiar with Metatron? The Archangel Metatron? He's in the Talmud, shows up in some Islamic and Christian texts as well. Yeah, the Archangel Metatron's been talking to Carlos Santana since 1994. When Carlos meditates, he keeps a yellow legal pad nearby just to take notes.

What Rolling Stone put him on the cover in 2000? Carlos Santana, not Metatron. Carlos said, Meditron is the architect of physical life because of him. We can French kiss. We can hug. We can get a hot dog. Wiggle our toe.

He went on to describe Metatron physically as white beard and kind of this jolly fellow. Yeah, a little bit of Santa Claus. But actually, I think it's possible Metatron was the spiritual advisor. Carlos said that in the mid-90s, Metatron told him, you will be inside the radio frequency for the purpose of connecting the molecules with the light, which Carlos reasonably interpreted as you're going to be on the radio again. This is cool as hell to me, man.

And sincerely, I suspect that rock and roll would be a lot more exciting and a little less dead nowadays, if we're honest, if more rock and rollers consulted with Metatron. So now Clive and his crew of suits need a hot songwriter to rework Room 17 into something a little more Metatron friendly. If that hot songwriter can also sing the song, then great. Fantastic. Who's it going to be, though? Who's out there? Who's hot enough? I first heard Matchbox 20 when I played Matchbox 20 on my college radio station, their first single called A Long Day. And I have to say I dug this song quite a bit, as I fancied myself a scholar of grunge,

smoothing itself out just enough to also get played on VH1. That's quite a dated reference, but that's 1996 for you. A little grit, but not self-loathing, self-destructive grit, surly but ultimately safe. music like this didn't get a lot of respect critically. Plus in the mid-90s, you had that run of number bands, right? Seven Mary 3, 3-3, Eve 6, 3-doors down, 5 for fighting. 3-11 if they count, which 3-11 might be too funky to count.

But anyway, Matchbox 20, led by a growly but sensitive frontman named Rob Thomas, were easy to make fun of, especially after their debut album, yourself or someone like you, sold 10 million copies in the United States alone and single-handedly kept used CD stores in business for a solid half decade. That's a super agro chorus, actually. That's push the band's first top five single. So yeah, now Rob Thomas and Matchbox 20 are huge, but not cool. You may recall from the semi-charmed life episode of this project,

my delight in recounting the ongoing media feud between Rob Thomas and third-eye blind frontman, Steven Jenkins, another number band. You may recall my particular delight in recounting the time Rob referred to Stephen in print as walking, breathing, living cheese. My all-time favorite rock and roll insult. I'm serious, but yeah, Matchbox 20, huge but not cool. But the band's not on tour as all these Santana shenanigans are on motion.

And Rob's apparently just sitting around playing PlayStation and hanging out. with his model girlfriend. And he's offered the chance to futz with room 17. And he futses up a storm. And it turns out he lives like a block from Etael Shure, so they get together and fut some more. And so look, you take room 17, you revamp the lyrics,

you change the key, you bump up the BPM, you make the chorus a pre-chorus and write a new, bigger chorus. You let Rob come up with better lines for that chorus than, give me something hot to make me move, get my motor running so I can get to you. And look what happens.

What happens is we arrive at my favorite part of this story. Muna Kita means a little doll. So when the Rolling Stone oral history, Etal Shure talks about sitting there with Rob, hashing this out. And Etow says, Why do you know about this, your mamacita and your Spanish Mona Lisa? And Rob goes, oh, my girlfriend's Puerto Rican. And Etail's like, oh, okay.

Rob Thomas and Marisol Maldonado have now been married for 23 years. is about her. She's in the smooth video. It's enormously sweet. But I do think a huge part of what makes this song pop before you even get to that chorus or even the pre-chorus is the whiplash pivot from the generality of man, it's a hot one, to the remarkable specificity of my Spanish Harlem Mona Lisa. Marisol lived in Queens. Close enough. I'm going to be talking in a few minutes to Layla Kobo, who wrote a book called Decoding Despacito and oral history of Latin music. And she's got a chapter on Smooth, of course. And Rob Thomas told her, when I met Carlos, the first thing he said was, hey, you must be married to a Latin woman. That's the kind of thing a

white guy married to a Latin woman would say. Carlos is very astute. Also, these are much better lines for the chorus than, give me something hot to make me move, get my motor running so I can get to you. right much better i love the way carlos santana talks to leila cobo in her book carlos is a fantastic interview for anybody you want a quote you want a flashy quote about literally anything ask carlos santana a question pretty much any question he once said when i play guitar i'm a kid with a first class ticket to disneyland and i can go on any ride i want that quote was published in guitar world yesterday. So Carlos talks to Leila about Rob, about what he discerned about Rob from the song smooth. He says, it sounded like he was in a relationship with a Latina. With all due respect to my

Caucasian sisters, he had a different type of sassiness about him. See, we learn to articulate from the females. That's where we get our vocabulary. When a woman puts her hand on her hip and shakes her head, you know she's up to something and has an attitude. That goes into the music. The sassiness is extremely relevant and vital to music. Otherwise, it sounds bland and ho-hum. I'm not trying to be cute. I'm just saying, real musicians learn a lot from the body language of women.

My mom, my four sisters, my two daughters, my wife Cindy, I learned it really quick. End quote. Have I mentioned that Carlos didn't like Smooth when it was first presented to him? He didn't. It reminded him too much of an old Santana song called Guajira from the Santana 3 album, which, to repeat, came out in 1971. Carlos doesn't like to repeat himself. But he came around to Smooth.

He did Smooth because Clive Davis told him to do Smooth. Carlos did Smooth because he got Rob Thomas. He vibed with Rob Thomas. Can I tell you my favorite line in Smooth? That's it. I'll tell you one thing. that's my man it's a hot one i love that line i do no offense to carlos but i don't find smooth especially carnal or sexy or whatever and i wouldn't tell you if i did but rob thomas singing i'll

tell you one thing that's the line for me that moves outside of time and gravity the incongruousness of all of this this song this album this clive davis party trick where he just snaps his fingers and Carlos Santana's breaking chart records in 1999. I think all the amusement and skepticism and cynicism surrounding this whole enterprise evaporates in that moment. It's not what Rob tells you. It's how he tells you he's going to tell you. I'm into it.

And then Carlos Santana solos. This is what Carlos Santana said to Laila Kobo for her book about Smooth, but about everything, an addition to smooth. This is long, but you don't need me goofing around throughout it. He said, it worked by me not even thinking about it. I didn't want it to have brain or mind energy. I wanted it to be with innocence. Innocence is El Corazon, the heart. Innocence to me is very sacred and very sensual. I think most people, whether atheist or spiritual, people should never lose their innocence. So I didn't practice purposefully. As soon as I found out where my fingers go on the neck of the guitar,

you close your eyes and you compliment Rob, kind of like a minister. He says, hallelujah, and you say, amen. I was quite struck by that, the purity of that. I'm not a cynic by nature, but the Clive Davis of it all kept tugging at me here, the backroom dealing, the coordinated industry push to roll the Carlos San Francisco. Montana Boulder back to the top of the mountain. Maybe you'd prefer a song as arbitrary and chaotic as smooth to just thunderbolt into existence, right? This inexplicable act of God, whatever God means to you. You look down to your toast one morning and the face of Jesus has just appeared there, or the face of Elvis or whoever.

But in this case, I don't think it diminishes the magic of smooth to know too much about the magicians. Magicians, plural. Some visible, some not invisible, slightly less visible. But in the end, it's simple. We're back on stage at Woodstock. We know this guy. We know how he sounds.

We know that nobody else sounds quite like he sounds. And we know how gorgeous it sounds when he finds someone with whom he can have a truly fascinating and egalitarian conversation. Carlos Santana talking to Leila also said this. As a guitar player, when I'm next to Rob Thomas or Rod Stewart, my role is to be present with love and not step on his vocals. Everything I've ever done with Placido Domingo or Rob Thomas, and I mean that in a very

soulful way, I know my place, not like a Mater D or servant, but I am part and parcel of a complete voice. I'm not anybody's shadow, and I'm not going to disrupt their light. but I am part of their whole song. I learned that from my dad and from BB King. Never compare or compete. That's okay for soccer or the World Cup, but music is just complimenting.

I was quite struck by that too. Music is just complimenting. That's lovely. Carlos Santana knows that music at its core is not a fight. It's not about who wins. And that's why he won. Our guest today is Lelaylor. L'a Kobo, a writer and critic and novelist. She's the vice president Latin industry lead for Billboard.

And her most recent book is called Decoding Despacito and Oral History of Latin Music. Layla, thank you so much for being here. Thank you, Rob. I'm thrilled to be here. We're thrilled to have you here. To start off, can you give me a sense of where Carlos Santana was in the late 90s prior to smooth, prior to supernatural? Like my sense is he was thought of as this classic rock 60s, Woodstock, rock and roll Hall of Fame, legend type guy, but nobody ever expected to hear him on pop radio ever again. Is that about right? That's exactly right. In fact, I was remembering at that time, I was the pop music critic for the Miami Herald. And I would go review Carlos Santana all the way up in West Palm Beach. So that's the kind of show he was doing.

was doing the Palm Beach Amped Theater, which is a nice outdoor arena, but it was way over there. It was a different kind of audience. He was playing in classic rock stations. Sure. His music was that. So he was like a classic. He was a very revered, respected musician, but I don't think anyone, anyone thought that he was going to have a number one hit.

Yeah. Different kind of audience means older primarily, right, compared to. not entirely but partially. Well, they were older. And in fact, when I spoke with Clive Davis about this, one thing he kept bringing up was the fact that Santana was, I forget if he was 50 or slightly older than 50 at the time. No one expected someone who is 50 years old and who has not had a major hit in over a decade or two to suddenly come back roaring, especially when you're talking about someone who's a rocker, because if you have like a Tony Bennett, then you can do like stuff with Lady Gaga, that sort of thing.

The duets. But this is a rocker. So this was a tall order. Yeah, I'm always torn with smooth. Part of me sees it as this totally random thunderbolt between two totally random people you never thought of together. But another part of me knows this is a music industry story. This is one of the most powerful executives in music history, just pointing out of it.

his finger at Carlos Santana. And it's like, you're going to make a huge pop hit again after decades. And then like 20 people behind the scenes just make that happen. When you hear smooth now, do you hear like divine inspiration or do you hear all the work that went on behind the scenes to make this song possible? When I hear smooth now, I hear both things. Because you really couldn't make smooth without, I hate to sound cliche, but without the genius of Carlos Santana.

You have a guitarist. You have an instrumentalist. He plays the guitar. So it's not like he's playing the banjo or an instrument that's less common. He's playing guitar, which everybody plays. And every time you hear Carlos Santana's guitar, you know it's Carlos Santana's guitar, which is so hard to do as an instrumentalist to develop a sound that's so distinctive. And so you have Carlos Santana.

who also is an amazing performer on stage. And then Carlos called Clive. And he said, I want you to come hear me play in New York. I want to chart again. And Clive, who was the guy who, quote unquote, discovered Santana all those years ago and made him a star, went and said, you know what, I think I can do something with this. And he did. So if you hadn't had Santana and if you hadn't had Clive, this wouldn't have happened.

And if it had been Santana with another executive, I really doubt it. And I think if it had been Clive with another artist, I really doubt it too. You needed the two parts. Yeah. As a musician yourself, as a concert pianist yourself, is there any way to describe, like, how Carlos Santana plays guitar like that or he has that sound? You know it's him. Like, how do you do that?

Or is the whole point that you can't explain how to do that to somebody? Gosh, I wouldn't be able to. explain Rob. All I know is he is very virtuastic, but at the same time, he's very melodic and very soulful. And then he just has the style that's immediately recognizable. I wish I could give you a better answer than that. No, that's the right answer. He's a virtuoso, but I see it as conversational. Right. Like, there's such simple melodies. And, you know, he's interacting with the band, whether it's the singer or another instrument. He fits together so well with the song and with the band.

And it's just it's such a recognizable and such a conversational sound to me. That's the way I've always thought of it. Conversational is a great word because he, in fact, Carlos, when we spoke about the song, he was saying that when he plays, when he performs with someone, even though he's the protagonist, it's his album. He's always doing it in function of the person that he's performing. performing with. And so he was saying, they'll say hail and I'll say amen. I forget the exact quote. I love that. Yeah. I love that. He like he's complimenting the singer. I really love the way that he

describes it to you in your book. Yeah. Absolutely. It's really beautiful. And the other thing that happens with that with his sound and with this album is that they recorded this live as an ensemble. And it's one of those things that once they tell you, you listen to it again. And you're like, Uh-huh, I hear it. It sounds so alive and so vibrant and so warm, and you realize that it didn't go track by track. Absolutely. I just love the way Carlos talked to you throughout your book. Like, he's always fascinated me as this super mystical guy. But this stuff he says to you about like not wanting to play with brain or mind energy, about not practicing about playing with, you know, about not disrupting the lights of the people he's playing with. Have you ever in your career interviewed anyone else who talked the way, Santana talks about music and art and spirituality. Never. I've never interviewed anybody like that.

And I've interviewed him, I think, like five times. And every time it's like this. And every time, and even though he has some of the same themes, he always says something different, but it's always so mystical and so profound. So it's not a question of, I'm going to do this interview and I'm going to craft these special things. This is who he is. This is how he speaks.

This is how he feels. And sometimes he's much more engaged than others. But this is a man who profoundly feels his music. But he feels that as part of his whole being, I don't know how to explain it. And yes, he talks like this. And he's so congruent. There's something in the book. I think it's Rob Thomas, right?

And Clyde, both of them say that Carlos sends them roses every. Rob said that every, he sends them flowers every year for his birthday. And I think Clive said as much. He said this is a guy who's always so gracious. And the last time I interviewed him about a week later, I got this beautiful bouquet of white roses. And in the middle there was a red rose. And I thought, oh, my God.

God, I have arrived. I got one of the Carlos Santano flowering. You were anointed. That's beautiful. I was going to say it's white roses. He sends white roses to Rob Thomas for friendship. That is such an honor to receive that from Carlos. And he didn't tell me this.

You know, Carlos didn't tell me this. Rob told me this. So when I actually got the roses, I thought, okay, this is big. This means I've done something right. and this means it's true as well. Yeah, absolutely. In your book, in the chapter on Smooth, you sort of separate Smooth and Santana a little bit

from what people by 1999 were calling the Latin explosion, right? Ricky Martin and Iglesias, J-Lo. Is that by virtue of him being, as you said, like a rocker and very much like a veteran guy? Is he just in an entirely different universe from Ricky Martin or J-Lo or anybody else? I think he is in an entirely different universe. And I thought a lot about whether I should include him in this book or not, because this book is called an oral decoding despisito and oral history of Latin music. And so I was looking at Latin hits, you know, by Latin meaning music in Spanish, or hits made by the artists that we consider Latin, which are the Ricky Martins, the Shakira's, I don't know, the Gloria Stephan's of the world. And Santana, is a big anomaly because he is very Latin, obviously. He's born in Mexico. He still speaks Spanish

perfectly. But he rose, he never identified himself as a Latin musician, maybe because back then that just wasn't something that you did. He was always a musician. You know, he was always a guitarist who happened to be Latin. And Latin is very much part of his idiom, no? It's part of his style. It's part of what he does. His big hits were Oje Komoa, obviously, which is a big Latin cover. So it's not like he was not embracing that part of himself. But maybe he came, and I can't speak for Carlos, but I think that maybe he rose to popularity, A, in a genre that was not traditionally Latin.

He was a rocker. And B, at a time when this wasn't a thing, you know, no one was talking about Latin music at that time. This is a guy who grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area. that's where he got his big music breaks. He was in that, in a very different scene. So I think Carlos embraced all his latinidad in his music and his persona, but he never let that be the only defining factor. But I did feel that this song, in particular,

because of the lyrics that Rob Thomas gave it, because it was Carlos, because it had been such a smash, I decided to put it in. But it's very much an outlier in the book. I was going to ask, because usually I hit as big as smooth, you get a lot of imitators. It starts some kind of trend. And I think the trend here was like put a veteran and a younger star together. But did you see any resurgence in Latin rock, in younger artists who wanted to be a Carlos

Santana-type guitar god? Is he just too singular to be imitated? Or were there younger Latin rock artists that you see is worthy of that lineage, especially after smooth. What a great question. I had never thought about that. I don't, I didn't see like a big trend after smooth, but there's definitely rock guitarist like Juanis comes immediately to mind, perhaps because he's recorded with Carlos. And so he comes to mind as someone who I am sure is inspired by Carlos, not just because he played with him, but because in his career he's done that too. He's taken younger artists under his wing and his recorded with him.

And he also has a very particular way of playing the guitar. But I wouldn't say there was a big wave. No, I think Carlos very much stands alone, Rob. There are not. He's one of one. He really is. Yeah. And that's great.

I mean, that's perfect. You know, you don't get many musicians like that in your lifetime, you know, in any genre, playing any instrument, just somebody who can't really be imitated. So nobody really even tries. You can be inspired by him, but you can't just ape him or what he did. No, or who he is. And one thing about this song that's, I think, also so beautiful really is obviously Rob Thomas isn't Latin either.

And Rob didn't record that thinking he was going to be the artist. He recorded the demo. Right. So he recorded the demo. Then they sent it to Carlos. And then Carlos said, huh, well, who is the person in the demo? But the fact that Rob was dating at that time, someone who was a Latin, she was, I think, half Puerto Rican, and the famous, you know, the Spanish Harlem Mona Lisa line, which is a very small line. But it's such a beautiful line, right?

And it's like so hard felt. And it was done with no ulterior motive. No one was thinking, let's hit the Latins and let's hit the non-Latins. No, no one was thinking anything. I think everybody was being extremely true to who they were and what their music was and making great music. And this is what came out. And it's kind of this mishmash of cultures and sounds. And it's it's beautiful.

It's a great song. I agree with you completely. But is part of the fascination with smooth like that sense of like, wow, I can't believe this guy is singing this? if you don't immediately know who Rob Thomas is dating is married to. Like, is there not really transgressive is the right word, but is there sort of a moment like what to this song that really helps this song? I think that moment helps the song. But if I go back to when I first heard the song, I didn't, I wasn't shocked by that line.

I was pleasantly surprised, but of course I'm Latin. So anytime I hear anything like that, I'm like, oh. But I thought it was a great line. because a lot of the cliche Latin lines tend to be the hot Latina, my spicy Latina, my Caliente Latina, all of that kind of crap. And he didn't say that, no? He said, my Spanish Harlem Mona Lisa. It is beautiful. I did want to ask about, man, it's a hot one.

Why that line, why does that line in this song still resonate 20 plus years later? Well, I got to tell you me, Leila, I never thought about that line. Is that terrible? Okay. It's not terrible. That's another good opening line like you don't stumble over it. I think the progression is people stumble over it, but then they learn to love it and then they embrace it as something that sounded really clunky and corny to them at first. And then they realized like years later that it's perfect. But if you just, if you just accepted it as a great, opening line to a great song, but you didn't think about it that hard. Like, that's another kind of songwriting genius to me. Like, that works just as well to me. That's interesting. What I would love to know, what I would love to do now is ask Etel Schur about who came up with that line.

And I don't have an answer for you. Can we do that? The co-writer. Yeah. We, I think you could do that easier than I could do that. I know that the chorus, I think that Rob Thomas very specifically came up with the chorus, just like the ocean under the moon. Like, that was his line and that sort of muscled out another Etal Shure line. I don't remember what his line was. But man, I think my assumption is that most of the lyrics are Rob's. If I was guessing, and it would be a guess, it would be that that line is also because the original version of the song, right, is about, it's called like Room 17. It's like a hotel room. It has nothing to do with this. Yes. Exactly. And so I, my understanding is that Rob Thomas came in and totally reprogrammed it.

And so I, it's one of those situations where obviously the bones were Etow Shures, but I don't know if any one line of his survived. Maybe it did. Maybe I'm wrong. But I I always assumed 100%. That was a Rob Thomas original. Man, it's a hot one. But we should ask. We should ask. But when you start talking about Etal Shure and Rob and how they worked on this song

and going back to your original question of how much do I hear is music and artistry and how much was the label and everything that went behind it, a lot went behind everything. everything here. Yeah. Yeah. Because the deal that Clive and Carlos made was, Clive said, okay, I'll work with you again and we'll make an album, but you have to let me, A&R, at least half of it, and I'm going to do half of it. These collaborations. And this was the last one. And they looked very, very, they looked far and wide for the right song. And they couldn't find the right song. So that's also, I thought, a fascinating part of the story, how this wasn't, you know, just like bringing five songs and that's the end. No, they search

high and low for the right song. And then they found the song, but they weren't sold on the lyrics. So they called Rob Thomas, and then he had to go and work with Eitel in his apartment in New York. And then they send it to Carlos. And then Carlos says, oh, I love it. So let's play. So the A&R work was very deep and profound. There was a lot of thought put into it. I have to say that when I learned all that went into it, I thought, wow, it must be great to be an artist that so much care is put into the selection of the songs. I think that's also a privilege. And then to have this beautiful song, because we have all these songs now that have 55 collaborators. And I am telling you, very few are as memorable as smooth.

That's true. That's objectively true. Smooth overall is one of these hits that's way bigger than you think it is. Like there's always hit songs that win lots of Grammys. This is the number three biggest hit in the history of the Billboard Hot 100. This one, you know, this tied the record or beat the record for the most Grammys in one night. Like what is it about smooth that elevates it from a really big hit to one of the biggest hits in world history? I think it was a stroke of genius that, quite honestly, I don't think any of them anticipated

was going to quite turn out that way. But all those little elements taking this legend, because he was already a legend there at that point, and someone that had this whole generation of fans behind him, and then taking the new guy who had the whole new generation and marrying those two things together, the very contemporary voice with this, everything else aside, Rob Thomas was this really

cute front man, right? He was like this cute guy, he was young. So he had all of that audience and he was cool and he had his cool rock pen and then bringing in Carlos Santana. So first of all, you combined all of that, which was sensational.

And then you had the song that wasn't even your traditional pop song because it's not like your traditional verse and here's a really catchy chorus. It's really hard to sing smooth. I can't karaoke that song. Have you tried? Yes. Have you tried to karaoke? Okay. I think it's really difficult. I'm sure it is. It's one of those after five beers. Like, I got this. And then like you don't, you totally don't got it. You totally don't. It's one of those. Exactly. It's deceptive.

It is. But it kind of all works, right? I think that the complexity of the song is part of the of the appeal. You hear it and there's so many layers. I don't know. I listen to Smooth and I feel like I'm almost like I'm taking, like I'm watching a fantasy and a big movie screen or something. It's so pretty and it takes so many turns. But it's cool and it's hip and it's sexy.

It had a lot of things going on. I would have never thought it would be such a huge hit, though, quite honestly. I thought it would be more niche. Sure. Right. But one of the biggest hits ever. Okay. So what is a Carlos Santana? What is a Santana? What is a Santana? Like after Smooth? Where is this concert? And what's the crowd now? Carlos Santana, gosh, this man, he became a superstar all over again. He became a bigger superstar than he ever was. I agree. Yeah. Because he was a superstar, but he was this kind of hardcore rocker. I think people will,

forever associate. I think the first wave of fans will forever associate him with Woodstock. And then suddenly you had this pop star who happened to be this icon. For his career, it was unbelievable. I think obviously now he's at another place because that's what happens with music and with pop music. but in the year following the release of smooth and that album and supernatural, I would there say, I would have to look at the stats, but I want to say that he was the biggest touring star at the time. I think that's probably right.

I think he was way up there in any event. Because, yeah, as you say, he unites, you know, eras, demographics. You know, he hits everybody at that point. Now that he's a pop star again, you know, now that he's got these pop hits again, everybody's going to a Santana concert. The Santana catalog is very daunting. And I think for me, like I think about the first three records, like the Woodstock era together and then everything after Supernatural. But there's like 12, 13, 14 records in between.

Like, is there a starting place anywhere in there for someone who wants to get deeper into Santana, like the phases of him? Like, what's an underrated Santana record? from any phase of his career. Hmm. And underrated. So we're not talking black magic woman or any of the hits we know and love? I don't think, yeah. Those first three records, I think, are pretty beloved.

And like, just looking at the streaming numbers or the sales or, like, the reissues. Like, I think people know those records or those hits really well. But that, you know, throughout the 70s, throughout the 80s, you know, throughout most of the 90s, you know, he's putting out records steadily. he's touring steadily. He's playing Radio City Music Hall. He's doing great, you know, but those records aren't resonating in any kinds of pop way necessarily. But I'm just wondering, you know, just as a starting point of where would you go if you were trying to start getting into that era? Well, let me look and I will give you my thoughts. He does have one album that came after, which is Codason, which I like simply because.

it's a Latin album, but what he attempted to do there was a supernatural but with Latin artists. That came out later. But you know which album I had and I liked a lot and I had in my record collection was Zebop. Does that count or is that too new? That's early 80s, I think. So that certainly, that certainly counts. Yeah. Okay. Well, I own Zebop and I used to love Zeebop and I I haven't heard it in a long time. Yeah. But I would suggest that one. Yeah, absolutely.

I think there's like a top 40 or a top 20 hit on that record from the early 80s, like 82 or something. So that's a great one. And I think he had top 40 and top 20 hits. I think he had a lot of those. But I think when you're a super, super, superstar like Santana, you want more. Right. You want to be, you want a number one.

again. And so that's what he did. You want a number one again. But you know, Rob, it's a testament to the artist. And also you see Carlos and he's so mellow and laid back and mystical and spiritual. And you forget that this is a guy with tremendous drive and ambition. And which is what you need to make it in this business. So don't be fooled by this spiritual. man, which he is, but he's also a fiercely ambitious man who wants his music to be heard on his own terms, right? Because he does not compromise his music. He's very adamant about it. But that doesn't mean that he's out there making jazz for little jazz clubs with 20 people. No, he wants it. He still does. He wants mass appeal.

Yeah. And he's got it. Layla, this has been awesome. Thanks so much. I really appreciate you talking. Rob, thank you. Thanks very much to our guest this week, Layla Kobo. Thanks as always to our producers, Lonnie Rodaldo and Justin Sales. And thanks very much to you for listening. And now, without further ado, here we have Santana and Rob Thomas with Smooth. We'll see you next week.