POP MUSIC REVIEW : Santana Adds an Unusual but Welcome Twist to Blues Fest ’92

Given the limited, repetitious fare common at blues festivals, it’s a godsend that some events have loosened up the definitions a bit to allow soul, gospel and other blues-related music into their lineups. But having Carlos Santana headline a blues bill is a bit like entering a floral arrangement in a barbecue cook-off.

The guitarist topped the “Blues Music Festival ‘92” on Sunday at the Pacific Amphitheatre, which also featured B. B. King, Buddy Guy, Dr. John and the Fabulous Thunderbirds. Like nearly every rock guitarist to emerge from the late ‘60s, Santana owes a huge debt to King’s dictionary of licks, attitude and technique. But the connection ends there, and the guitarist and his band offered a decidedly non-bluesy, blissed-out mix of Latin and jazz fusion styles.

The dancing, near-capacity crowd didn’t much seem to mind that it wasn’t blues, perhaps because Santana was playing with a focus and vigor that recalled the sensational impact he had at Woodstock 23 years ago. In place of the excessive noodling he sometimes has indulged, his soloing was informed with a sensitivity and fire, pumped along by a riotous rhythm section.

They played some of the expected oldies, including “Jingo,” “Soul Sacrifice” and “Europa,” but reached the audience as well with material from the recent albums “Milagro” and “Spirits Dancing in the Flesh.” As good as Santana was, the high point came when B. B. King joined him to jam. Santana isn’t the most gracious of musical hosts: Instead of seeking some common musical ground, he forced King to play over the unfamiliar chord changes of Santana instrumentals. King proved remarkably adept, though, mimicking bits of Santana’s playing while pouring in torrents of his own soulful style.

It was quite a redemption for King, whose own set was atypically weak. The 66-year-old giant usually puts his all into a show, playing with a tremendous passion and invention. Sunday he appeared to be ailing--he let his band play a third of the set before he appeared, he looked discomfited, and his roaring voice was clearly straining. His playing was as beautiful as ever, though, from his standards “Rock Me Baby” and “The Thrill Is Gone” to his contemporary dance-groove “Back in L.A.” and his exultant rendition of U2’s “When Love Comes to Town.”

From a blues purist’s standpoint, guitarist Buddy Guy does everything wrong. He’s a nonstop show-off, and his distorted tone and overplaying could give one the impression that the blues were invented by skinny Englishmen with fuzztones.

But, despite all that, Guy remains a tremendous performer, playing with such personality that it overwhelms the showmanship. Even when plunging through the crowd on Sunday during “Knock on Wood,” his soloing spoke with a distinctive voice, and with a musical humor perhaps matched only by Jeff Beck’s.

Neither Dr. John nor the Fabulous Thunderbirds had time to build up steam in their half-hour sets. Too bad, particularly in the case of pianist Dr. John, whose excellent recent shows have reminded just how much New Orleans tradition was wrapped up in the psychedelic swamp-rock he introduced in the ‘60s.