New York woke up Friday to an unexpected announcement, one that almost no one initially believed. Carlos Santana, the iconic Grammy-winning guitarist whose riffs once defined peace, love, and Latin rock, canceled all his New York concerts for 2026, declaring that he refuses to “perform under a communist regime.”

In a video posted at dawn on what appeared to be a deserted table, Santana, wearing a poncho, aviator sunglasses, and a surprisingly angry expression, played a slow, menacing G minor chord before speaking:
“Sorry, New York. I don’t play for the communists. I play for the light, for the truth, and for the innate spirit of freedom.”
He paused, looked up at the sky as if searching for a cosmic frequency, and added:
“When the soul of a city forgets its roots, the universe becomes out of tune.”
Within minutes, half the country was quoting him. The other half Googled: “Wait a minute, is Carlos Santana still on tour?”
Sources close to Santana say the decision was a consequence of the election of New York City’s new mayor, Zohran Mamdani, the same democratic socialist whose oat milk policies sparked Jason Aldean’s rebellion in a small town earlier this year.
Santana’s advisor issued a formal statement printed on hemp paper:
“Carlos has always championed universal harmony. But when a city vibrates at a low Marxist frequency, the chakras become misaligned. In his right mind, he cannot operate under this energetic regime.”
Attached to the letter was a photo of Santana meditating next to a burning copy of ” The New York Times Dies” while a coyote howled in perfect C major.
When contacted at a community composting event in Queens, Mayor Mamdani responded calmly:
“That’s fine. Anyway, I wasn’t planning on going to their concert. I don’t have any tie-dyed shirts.”
Then he took a sip of oat milk and reminded the reporters that “New York survived the Ramones, the Sex Pistols and three Jonas Brothers; we’ll be fine.”

Fans in both hemispheres reacted immediately. In the United States, conservative commentators praised Santana’s stance as proof that “even hippies hate socialism.” In Mexico, radio hosts called it “the most confusing rebellion since Che Guevara dabbled in jazz.”
Fox News ran the headline “From Woodstock to Woke Lockdown: Santana Strikes Back.”
MSNBC responded with “Guitar Hero or Boomer Tantrum?”
CNN tried to compensate by showing a split screen featuring Santana and Mamdani’s guitar solo on a Citi Bike.
Ticket sellers were furious. “Do you know how hard it is to resell $600 VIP tickets to people who now think jazz fusion is a betrayal?” one reseller complained.
Meanwhile, the pirates attacked them. Within hours, T-shirts appeared online bearing the slogan “Tour ‘I Don’t Play for Communists’ 2026,” 100% polyester, made in Vietnam, of course.
Santana’s exclusive guitar line, the Prisma da Paz edition , increased in value after he promised to “cleanse all instruments with sage before shipping them, to keep Marx out of the game.”
In Brooklyn, reactions ranged from amusement to boredom. “He canceled? Great. That opens up a spot for Bad Bunny,” said a barista in Williamsburg, adjusting his crocheted beret.
The New York Philharmonic issued a statement thanking Santana for his “courageous act of opening venues so that musicians can continue to tune their own guitars.”
A Queens avant-garde collective immediately created a performance titled “ Hey, Like Wakeking Up.” It consisted of a 12-foot-long inflatable statue of Santana that was slowly released in time with subway delays. Critics called it “transcendentally absurd.”
That night, the Santana saga reached Congress. A Texas senator introduced the Free Bird Act, which proposed tax incentives for any artist who refused to perform in cities governed by socialists. Another called it an “attack on American bands.”
During a press conference, President Biden was asked about the story. He blinked, took a sip of water, and said, “Santana? I love his hot sauce.”
Music critics mobilized. Rolling Stone published an article titled “From ‘Smooth’ to Grudge: When the Solo Becomes War.” NPR launched a podcast called The Left of Santana , in which two academics discuss “the intersection of wah-wah pedals and late-capitalist paranoia.”
On TikTok, a user went viral after playing Santana’s guitar solo from “Mulher de Magia Negra” over recordings of Karl Marx dancing. He was immediately banned in Florida.

Mayor Mamdani ended the week with a press conference on the steps of City Hall. Accompanied by a band and two rescued pigeons, he smiled and said:
“We thank Mr. Santana for providing a space for emerging artists, preferably those who don’t charge $90 for a tie-dyed t-shirt.”
He then announced his plans for a “folk music festival” that would feature local high school bands as headliners and free kombucha. Tickets sold out immediately, especially among journalists looking for something new to talk about.
By December, the story had faded, replaced by new controversies and holiday promotions for the FreedomFest box sets. But somewhere in Arizona, Carlos Santana was spotted playing a solo in the desert, eyes closed, the wind in his hair. When a fan asked if he would return to New York, he smiled.
“Maybe,” he said. “If you promise not to mention socialism during the soundcheck.”
A few hours later, Mayor Mamdani responded on Twitter: “Deal, as long as you pay the municipal tax.”
And so, the most psychedelic culture war of 2026 did not end with a protest or a petition, but with a shrug, a tweet, and an endless argument that resonated somewhere between Woodstock and Fox News prime time.
Because in the United States, each generation suffers the culture war it deserves. This one had a wah-wah pedal.
