Take a glance at the track list and feel your heart skip a beat. Michael Jackson and Miles Davis, back from the dead and their first order of business is to work with guitar legend Santana. The briefing notes did not mention a retrospective package was at hand. Still, to think Santana even worked with such broad strokes of music, from pop fame to jazz acclaim, is a comment not on those who were attracted to the Black Magic Woman songwriter but on the depths of that Santana sound. Retrospective or not, the collection of songs heard here is a reminder of guitar rock’s longevity. Santana still reigns supreme as a uniquely gifted guitarist, and though he has lost a step or two, naturally so, this retrospective compilation is sweet enough. A lyrical ordeal but a savvy and instrumentally in-step experience for the Santana fans who have exhausted all those bootleg live tapes.
Songs which were “floating around the house” are glued together here. It is surprising to hear there is flow and momentum shared by these songs, especially given the whirr of genre changes. Opener Let The Guitar Play does exactly what it says on the tin, with a generic trip-hop beat underneath it. It is forgotten immediately, in its place some electrifying riffs and soft percussion for the only live performance of the album, a performance of Stranger in Moscow. Erratic pacing is to be expected when the songs are pulled from this folder or that archive, but some more work on the tonal shifts of Sentient would make the core work that much stronger. Flipping from masterful playing to pop slop snoozes like Whatever Happens is a grand shame. It makes it a jittery project, but a project of fresh songs, nonetheless. Santana likely does not have the depth in his vault to formalise these unreleased materials; we are lucky to get these pieces at all.
Those so-called “sentient” pieces are a nice and light time. For those who want to be moved once more by Santana, they would be hard-pressed to find a better experience. Much of it feels passive; the music hinged on instrumental prowess alone. While there is an entertainment value in that, it makes Get On, the Davis and Paolo Rustichelli-featuring song, feel like tame background music. A waste of the collective talents, but a fun jam to pair with Vers Le Soleil and Rastafario nonetheless. Enhancements here or there makes Sentient a passion project, which satisfies the creative itch first. An appeal to audiences is merely tertiary. That much is respectable; there is no need to try and hook the audience. Names like Davis, the quality playing style and suggestions of experimentation on Vers Le Soleil are enough to carry the project.
Where the album cover would, in previous years, be mocked for its sloppiness, the revolting rise of AI means loosening the icicles on the heart. There is something so endearing about Sentient as a project. This is a man who has already proven himself by offering more, simply because he has it to give. Not everything has to hold clarity. There is a breeziness to Sentinet which, if it washes over, you at the right time, post-workout or early in the morning, is a very sweet listen. Riffing thrills on Full Moon is a high point, and it highlights what Santana does best. He lets his instruments do the talking for him at the best of times. Lyrical additions on I’ll Be Waiting are used more as an extra part of the mix rather than as a defining part of the song. Sentinet showcases Santana as a man who speaks not with words, but with notes, and when he gets the chance to explore that side of himself on this album, it comes to life brilliantly.
