Al Di Meola remembers what he was thinking as he lay in a Romanian hospital after suffering a heart attack on stage in 2023. “My hands were bracing the side of the table,” he says. “Like, ‘Oh boy, is this gonna ******* hurt!’”

Luckily, it didn’t. Luckier still, he fully recovered and got back on the road soon afterwards, releasing his latest album, Twentyfour, a year later. “We don’t harp on the fact that what I went through was excruciating,” he explains.

“When people ask how I’m doing, I go, ‘I’m great!’ because I am. Privately, I do worry – but it’s like 99 percent fine, and I get checked out regularly, which I recommend everyone do.”

“There’s more to life than just a guitar. Once you’ve had a heart attack there’s always that thing in your mind that it could happen again. There’s a fear of mortality now.”

By the looks of it there’s more protest in his future; and there’s also more boundary-pushing music.

“I consider myself a Latin musician first,” he says. “I grew up in Latin clubs and have that sensitivity.

“My goal was to do something new, and not go down the path of making records with jazz standards. I could have done that, but it wasn’t appealing to me.”

In January you hooked up with Tom Morello and Bruce Springsteen in Minneapolis for a benefit concert.

I met Tom last summer on the island of Capri. We kept in touch, and when this thing happened in Minneapolis, and the second person was killed, we were all seeing these ICE agents just getting out of hand. It was really over-the-top. It was just too reminiscent of what we saw with pre-World War II Nazis.

So I called Tom and said, “Man, we should do something.” He goes, “You know what? I’m glad you called me, because it pushed me over the edge to do this.” I said, “Okay, man. I’m down.”

From there, how did the Concert of Solidarity at First Avenue come together?

Tom put it together. I finished my tour and flew to Miami; I have a place there. I was unpacking, like, “Oh, thank God, I’m done with the tour and I can rest.” Then I got a call from his assistant, saying, “You need to be on a flight to Minneapolis tomorrow night.”

I’d do my set, solo and acoustically, then Tom would come on with his band. And then, the assistant was like, “I may as well tell you, but you can’t reveal this – Bruce Springsteen [is taking part].” I said, “Oh, my God, this is gonna be huge!”

That raised the stakes for sure, right?

I’ll tell you the truth: I had a lot of anxiety about it. I’ve never been part of a protest like this. It was a charity event for the families of the people who were killed. But then we were joining a protest parade, so there was a lot of anxiety because it was something new and controversial.

I was concerned that my music, and what I do – which was never expected in that context – might not work. I was going up there and playing a few pieces that I had in mind, but wasn’t sure how it was gonna work with a Tom Morello crowd, which is really high-energy. And in light of what’s going on, everybody was supercharged.

How did the crowd receive you?

That place went crazy. It was like the heyday of fusion, but with an audience times a hundred. They were just bowled over with joy, happiness, and excitement that I did that. I’m not saying everybody was a prior fan – there’s definitely a good percentage that learned about me for the first time.

But the reception I got for making the effort to come there for the cause was through the roof. Then Tom did his set, and Bruce came out and did his new song [Streets of Minneapolis]. Then we did a Woody Guthrie song and a John Lennon song. And after that we marched for a good 30 minutes before we froze to death!

Seeing as you’ve never done something like this before, why was it important for you to become involved?

I hate to use a phrase from Scientology. I was never a Scientologist, but I was in a group with Chick Corea and Stanley Clarke, who were staunch Scientologists. I always heard the term “artists are opinion leaders.”

What does that mean to you?

If you read something by whoever you admire in the arts of film, music, whatever, you’re not going to read it the same way as some guy who works at 7/11 or the gas station. But if an artist you like says something, they can draw more attention.

So I’ve been commenting more than any other guitarist, for sure, online. There’s not one bathroom trip that I’ve taken without sitting on that thing and commenting on something!

Do you see yourself hooking up with Tom again?

Well, Tom said, “This event in Minneapolis was brought together because Al inspired me.” But he did all the hooking up – and he did it within two days! He’s phenomenal. It was a very important thing that I felt we needed to do.

We joined the protest parade – which was peaceful, by the way – and after that we headed to the airport. After that, I was supercharged; I felt inspired, and positive that we were doing something good.

When I got back I kept talking with the guy who put up all the money to make it happen. I said, “We can’t stop now. We have to do something along the lines of what they did in 1970 at the Washington Monument during the Vietnam protests.” It drew one million people.

I said, “We have to do that. We’ll get one million people; we might get two million. If we do it right before the midterms, right in Trump’s backyard. Can you imagine the power of that?” He said, “Al, we’ve already started! We don’t wait.”

Can you imagine the impact of having, anywhere from 10 to 40 Hollywood stars and a bunch of bands, and attracting one or two million people? We’re allowed to do it. The Constitution allows for that kind of protest. He can’t stop that. We’re not Russia yet. We are a fascist country, but not to the point of disallowing that kind of thing – although he may try.

Given the climate, do you have any fear?

I’m at an age where I think my voice has some importance. I couldn’t have done this in my early 20s. I should not have done it in my 20s, even if I was thinking of it. And certainly, in my teens, I couldn’t care less because it was all about the guitar. But at this age, life is a lot more varied. I like to keep the balance, and I’m extremely worried for our country.

How did your heart attack change your outlook as far as the guitar goes?

Well, it’s partially why I’m less afraid. I’m not afraid of doing a protest or saying the things I’m saying in fear of some nut job seeking retaliation on behalf of the criminal Trump. I have less fear about that. It’s the last quarter of the football game for me, you know?

It seems like you’re still working hard. You put out a new record in 2024 and you’ve been touring a lot.

I’m working hard to stay in the game. I don’t think there was ever a period where I wasn’t working hard, but now it’s different because more opportunities have opened up.

I’m doing great, but I have to take certain medications. And I’m not doing anything stupid; I’m not an alcoholic and I don’t do drugs. Promoters want to know that you’re fine, and my wife does all of my social media phenomenally well and puts out there how great we’re doing.

This year marks the 50th anniversary of your solo debut, Land of the Midnight Sun, which you followed up with Elegant Gypsy. Both are landmark albums, but you were very young when you recorded them. Would you change anything?

I know I picked the perfect rhythm section with Steve Gadd and Anthony Jackson. And I even had Jaco Pastorius – the first record he ever recorded, which was amazing. I had Jaco, Anthony, and Stanley Clarke, the three best bass players at that time, all on one record.

I was celebrated in a way at that point, 50 years ago, that I could get these people just by a phone call. But Land of the Midnight Sun was me being thrust into having to write music. I credit Chick Corea for pushing all of us to write music. And I was the least likely to have that desire.

Why is that?

I was like, “I just love playing Chick’s stuff.” Stanley was cracking the surface, but I didn’t really have the urge. Chick was pushing all of us, so I was testing the waters with Land of the Midnight Sun. I wasn’t sure of anything, but I had my full technical abilities. It’s mind-blowing the speed at which we played a song like Short Tales of the Black Forest.

What’s next for you?

I have an orchestra gig that’s putting a lot of pressure on my mind to make sure it’s good. They’re doing a whole night of my music in Amsterdam. They’ve done it with other guitarists, Steve Vai being one. It’s a contemporary orchestra with Vince Mendoza, a premier conductor.

The dilemma is that they have all my charts, but they were written before I made a million changes. You write out music then go into the studio, and you think, “I’ll change this – syncopate it differently.” But you don’t immediately change the chart. Then the tour starts, and it changes more. So they’re sitting with charts from the original time.

I have tours coming up with two bands. My acoustic ensemble covers latter-period compositions from Infinite Desire up to Twentyfour. I’m alternating between that and an electric tour in May or June. That focuses more on the early years to keep that flame alive.

I do it to remind people, “I was the guy back then who did this thing!” But I’m of age now where the road is hard. Though it was never easy. It’s like 50/50 if guys are road dogs or it’s just too hard for them.

• Twentyfour is on sale now.

Andrew Daly is an iced-coffee-addicted, oddball Telecaster-playing, alfredo pasta-loving journalist from Long Island, NY, who, in addition to being a contributing writer for Guitar World, scribes for Bass Player, Guitar Player, Guitarist, and MusicRadar. Andrew has interviewed favorites like Ace Frehley, Johnny Marr, Vito Bratta, Bruce Kulick, Joe Perry, Brad Whitford, Tom Morello, Rich Robinson, and Paul Stanley, while his all-time favorite (rhythm player), Keith Richards, continues to elude him.