"I have peace of mind, because I want only five things out of life and music: beauty, elegance, excellence, grace and dignity."

"Musicians can bring different things out of people; We can make them angry, sad, horny, happy. I do feel Santana is a vehicle against cynicism and callousness."

"Shed guilt, anger, doubt, and fear like a snake sheds its old skin. Wrap yourself in the new skin of beauty, elegance, dignity, and compassion." - Carlos Santana, Toronto 6/29/03

Of course. I remember standing onstage accepting a Grammy from Bob Dylan and Lauryn Hill, and I swear, guys like Tommy Castro and Otis Rush were going through my mind, and all I could think about was, “Why me?” And then, all of a sudden, I hear this voice that says, “Because of your heart.” See, my heart wants to wake people up to their full potential. And to realize that potential in yourself, your heart must dictate to your brain. It should never be the other way around. If your brain dictates to your heart, then you’re just shucking and jiving. No person or thing is going to validate you more than your own heart. So which one do you want to hang with?

As much as I love music, it’s what I do, it’s not who I am.

Guitar mags have a valid role. They turn people on to the gear that’s out there, and help them understand that certain gear sounds a certain way. For example, a Strat is going to sound the way it sounds simply because of its construction. That hasn’t changed since Ritchie Valens and Buddy Holly. And with a certain amp, your tone is going to be a certain way.
But people should try to go deeper into the instrument, and transcend its actual construction. To do that, you have to make ugly faces, pucker up your butt, and get to that note. You need to put different levels of brutal freakin’ force behind your playing. The next thing you know, you start getting into the territory that Stevie Ray Vaughan and Jeff Beck inhabit. Let’s face it, Stevie made some pretty ugly faces. And, hopefully, so do I. Anybody who goes for the note, makes that face. It’s like having an orgasm. I don’t know anybody who looks nice when they have an orgasm. And if you’re not having an orgasm, then you’re not all the way into it like you’re supposed to be.

What I’m learning more and more is that there are a lot of tones within myself that I can form simply by looking inward. Sure, Dumbles are incredible amps. But Alexander Dumble himself would tell you that Larry Carlton, Robben Ford, Eric Johnson, and myself have our own fingerprints with or without a Dumble amplifier. I can tell you every little piece of gear I’ve ever used, and you’re still not going to sound like me. Your sound as an individual comes from sitting and playing for one, two, or three hours nonstop. It’s where you get into this zone, and something takes over where the music truly plays you, and your mind is free of insecurities. The muscle memory and mechanics will handle themselves at a certain point, and you can get down to the matter of true expression that goes straight to the instrument from your heart. You have to reach inside yourself. There’s absolutely no substitute for locking yourself away and not coming out until you have your own sound.

It wasn’t until Prince told me that I was a major influence on his playing that I realized maybe I had left a mark with my guitar.

Well, I remember Wynton Marsalis saying that I shouldn’t even be on the same stage with Wayne Shorter because I was playing rock music. But Wayne’s response was beautiful. He said, “Wynton, you could put children from different parts of the world in the same sandbox, and even though they won’t speak the same language, they’re still going to play with the same bucket and the same shovel.”
But, first and foremost, I think people like Wayne and John Lee read my intentions. They saw it in my eyes that I wasn’t there to steal from them or disrespect their music. I’m there to learn from them and honor the music. And that attitude gave me a first-class ticket with those guys.

“I thought the whole experience was going to be a lot weirder than it actually was,” says Santana. “But after you play Woodstock on acid, nothing’s a big deal anymore!”

“At this stage of my life, all is one in my eyes,” he says. “I don’t have to be just the ‘Latin rock guy.’ If I have the chance, I want to be able to play the Grand Ole Opry, or in the middle of Africa. Look, it’s not like I want to be liked by everybody, but who wouldn’t want to reach as many people’s hearts as they can?”

“I’m proof that a musician can coexist with everyone from Wayne Shorter and Kirk Hammett to Placido Domingo and P.O.D.,” exclaims Carlos Santana as he reclines in his San Rafael, California, headquarters. “I’ll even play with Kenny G., Billy Joel, or Elton John if the song is right.”