Patti Smith

November 9, 1975 at PST

Horses

100 Best Albums Calling Horses one of the first statements in punk begs the question of what punk is: A sound? An attitude? A political orientation? A stylistic one? In some ways, Smith was a traditionalist: She enshrined Bob Dylan, and once said that her blind love for her father was the first thing she sacrificed to Mick Jagger. In others, she was a radical—the resolve, the intensity, the way her performances stretch for a catharsis beyond sound. Reflecting on her label censoring her cover of The Who’s “My Generation” (she’d changed the line “Things they do look awful cold/I hope I die before I get old” to “I don’t need no f**king s**t/I hope I die because of it”), Smith said that that was the thing about rock ’n’ roll: It was total warfare, all the time.

The duality of Horses is that it sounds both deeply steeped in the history of rock—its story, its symbols, its legacy—while also trying to convey the music as though nobody had ever heard it before. So, when she opens her adaptation of Them’s “Gloria” with the line “Jesus died for somebody’s sins, but not mine,” it’s to remind you that rock is the sound of heretics who will stake their life against orthodoxy. And when the apocalyptic visions of “Land” give way to the ’60s song “Land of 1,000 Dances,” it’s because teenagers expressing themselves through their bodies is a sacred, radical act. And when “Birdland” winds down with Smith singing doo-wop, it’s because sometimes feelings are so radiant that words fail.

Even at her artiest, Smith doesn’t flinch or distance herself with irony, turning her internal ecstasy outward with a rawness and naiveté that feels daring, unguarded but deadly confident—a trust fall in sound. There are moments when the language soars and the music breaks challenging new ground. But ultimately, Horses doesn’t ask to be understood—it asks only to be felt.

8 Tracks

May 16, 1979 at PDT

Wave (1996 Remaster)

When Patti Smith walked into Bearsville Studios in Woodstock, New York, in 1979 to begin work on Wave, she knew it would be her last record for a while—perhaps ever. She hadn’t yet shared this information with the rest of her band, but she had told producer, musician, and longtime friend Todd Rundgren. While not significantly stylistically different than Easter, her 1978 breakthrough, Wave continued to favor a polished, commercial-sounding production that would (hopefully) let Smith find success with FM radio.

Easter had given Smith a bona fide smash with “Because the Night,” which had been languishing as an unfinished Bruce Springsteen track until Easter producer Jimmy Iovine got the song into Smith’s hands. There’s nothing the singer’s label, Arista, would have liked more than for Smith to come up with another hit in the same vein—especially since she was still just a few years removed from her divisive 1976 album Radio Ethiopia.

And while Wave, recorded with the Patti Smith Group, had moments that were more conceptual than commercial—at one point during recording, Smith asked Richard Sohl to make his keyboard sound like the ocean—there turned out to be three legitimate radio-friendly unit-shifters on the album. The first single, “Frederick,” is a charmingly and blatantly Motown-inspired love song to the man she would marry about a year later, MC5 guitarist Fred “Sonic” Smith. And the haunting “Dancing Barefoot” would later become one of Patti’s trademark tunes—and the one song most frequently covered by other musicians.

Elsewhere on the album, the fury behind the Patti Smith Group’s cover of The Byrd’s “So You Want to Be (A Rock ’n’ Roll Star)”—and its stream-of-consciousness improv—was inspired by Smith’s experiences with the machinery of stardom. But it was also informed by what Smith and her bandmates considered to be the decline and fall of punk rock—the genre they’d helped perfect and popularize—when Patti’s brother was attacked with a bottle by none other than the Sex Pistols’ Sid Vicious. Punk was dead, the 1970s were coming to a close, and Smith would soon take an extended break from music. Wave was a farewell—at least for now.

11 Tracks

November 9, 1975 at PST

Horses (Legacy Edition)

Calling Horses one of the first statements in punk begs the question of what punk is: A sound? An attitude? A political orientation? A stylistic one? In some ways, Smith was a traditionalist: She enshrined Bob Dylan, and once said that her blind love for her father was the first thing she sacrificed to Mick Jagger. In others, she was a radical—the resolve, the intensity, the way her performances stretch for a catharsis beyond sound. Reflecting on her label censoring her cover of The Who’s “My Generation” (she’d changed the line “Things they do look awful cold/I hope I die before I get old” to “I don’t need no f**king s**t/I hope I die because of it”), Smith said that that was the thing about rock ’n’ roll: It was total warfare, all the time.

The duality of Horses is that it sounds both deeply steeped in the history of rock—its story, its symbols, its legacy—while also trying to convey the music as though nobody had ever heard it before. So, when she opens her adaptation of Them’s “Gloria” with the line “Jesus died for somebody’s sins, but not mine,” it’s to remind you that rock is the sound of heretics who will stake their life against orthodoxy. And when the apocalyptic visions of “Land” give way to the ’60s song “Land of 1,000 Dances,” it’s because teenagers expressing themselves through their bodies is a sacred, radical act. And when “Birdland” winds down with Smith singing doo-wop, it’s because sometimes feelings are so radiant that words fail.

Even at her artiest, Smith doesn’t flinch or distance herself with irony, turning her internal ecstasy outward with a rawness and naiveté that feels daring, unguarded but deadly confident—a trust fall in sound. There are moments when the language soars and the music breaks challenging new ground. But ultimately, Horses doesn’t ask to be understood—it asks only to be felt.

18 Tracks

March 18, 2002 at PST

Land (1975-2002)

30 Tracks

May 31, 2012 at PDT

Banga

When Patti Smith returned to public and performing life in the mid-1990s, she gave interview after interview pointing out that she hadn’t stopped working—she just wasn’t executing work for public consumption. Her 11th studio album, 2012’s Banga, is solid proof of that assertion, because it has all the hallmarks of any classic Patti Smith record. Topically, it’s a delightful smörgåsbord of all things Smithian. And musically, it finds her working with a trusted band featuring compatriots both old (Lenny Kaye and Jay Dee Daugherty) and new (Tony Shanahan and Jack Petruzzelli).

Banga features songs about far-flung places (“Fuji-san,” “Amerigo”) and tunes inspired by the obscure artists Smith loves, as on the tracks “Tarkovsky (The Second Stop is Jupiter)” and “Maria.” There’s even a pop song, “April Fool,” which connects thematically and lyrically with her acclaimed memoir Just Kids. And there’s a lengthy improvisation, “Constantine’s Dream,” which lasts for more than 10 minutes, and that features lyrics that were extemporized live in the studio.

Smith also uses the record to pay tribute to her musical loves. There’s a Neil Young cover (“After the Gold Rush”), as well as a literal torch ballad about the late Amy Winehouse (“This Is the Girl”). Meanwhile, “Tarkovsky” borrows so liberally from the experimental Sun Ra that he gets a co-writing credit.

And Banga is deeply personal, as well: There are appearances by Smith’s children, Jackson Smith and Jesse Smith, as well as pals Tom Verlaine and Johnny Depp. Verlaine contributes beautiful, insightful harmonic adornments to “April Fool,” while Depp—whose birthday gift was the song “Nine”—plays guitar and drums on the title track.

12 Tracks

June 4, 1974 at PDT

Hey Joe / Piss Factory - Single

2 Tracks

June 17, 1996 at PDT

Gone Again

During her extended hiatus from music in the 1980s, Patti Smith and her husband—MC5 guitarist Fred “Sonic” Smith—had always planned on returning to public life and performance once their kids were old enough. It was the family business, after all. But what no one had planned on was Fred Smith’s death in 1994.

The musician was only in his forties, and was one of several deaths that would impact Patti Smith—and her music—in the 1990s. In the span of just a few years, she lost not only her husband, but also Robert Mapplethorpe, her one-time lover and lifetime friend; her brother, Todd, who’d vowed to get her back on the road after Fred’s death; and Patti Smith Group keyboardist Richard Sohl, whose soulful, expressive work was always a hallmark of the band’s sound.

It was an unthinkable series of tragedies. But Patti’s community of friends and musicians rallied around her—prompting her to once again begin moving towards a life as a musician. Smith’s first public performances after her husband’s death took place in 1995; a year later, she released Gone Again, her first album since 1988’s Dream of Life. Along for the ride were some familiar names: Guitarist Lenny Kaye was riding shotgun, while Jay Dee Daugherty was back behind the drums. Tom Verlaine and John Cale also made guest appearances, joining such newcomers as Tony Shanahan (bass, keyboards) and Oliver Ray (guitar).

Even during her break from music, Smith had kept working on songs; she’d even taken some basic guitar lessons from her husband. After his death, she found herself picking up the acoustic guitar and playing and writing songs as a buffer against her grief. Despite those humble origins, the tracks on Gone Again have the same essential spirit as her earlier work. She’s a better poet and a better songwriter, and there’s more color and depth in her vocals.

And while this record is informed by loss, it is graceful and beautiful in all of its pain, with a handful of songs—including “Beneath the Southern Cross” and “Wing”—that are up there with some of Patti Smith’s greatest hits.

11 Tracks

May 31, 1988 at PDT

Dream of Life (Remastered)

Released in 1988, Dream of Life is a collaboration between Patti Smith and her husband, MC5 guitarist Fred “Sonic” Smith. The pair worked on the record in segments over a series of years, delayed by Patti’s unexpected pregnancy with their second child, Jesse Paris Smith, in 1986.

All of the songs on the record were co-written by the pair, with Fred sharing production duties with Patti’s old friend, Jimmy Iovine, who’d produced her 1978 album, Easter. Iovine had also helped her land a copy of an unfinished Bruce Springsteen demo for “Because the Night,” which had become Patti’s biggest hit.

Still, “Because the Night” was by now a decade old. Dream of Life would need to remind longtime fans of Patti Smith’s powers—and introduce young listeners to her raw, heartfelt sound. As it turned out, the album opens with the song that would become one of her most beloved tunes: “People Have the Power.” As the story goes, Fred walked into the kitchen one night and said, “‘People Have the Power’—write it!” Fred Smith didn’t get to live long enough to see his title become an anthem sung by tens of thousands of people in dozens of countries—a tune performed in front of presidents and other heads of state—but it’s a hell of a legacy.

The rest of Dream of Life is far heavier—at least emotionally—with songs that deal with the struggles of adult life (“Going Under,” “Where Duty Calls”) and the heartache of death: “Up There Down There” was recorded just after the musicians received the news that Andy Warhol had died. And “Paths That Cross”—featuring the lines “Paths that cross will cross again”—was written for Patti’s friend Sam Wagstaff, an art collector and the partner of photographer Robert Mapplethorpe, one of Patti’s closest friends.

Both Wagstaff and Mapplethorpe were diagnosed with AIDS around the same time, and Patti feared that “Paths That Cross”—written to comfort Mapplethorpe—might also serve the same role for her, should Mapplethorpe not survive. But the two men also forged a deep connection with “The Jackson Song,” the final track on Dream of Life—a beautiful lullaby, one written for the Smiths’ first child, Jackson. It was a song that comforted Wagstaff in his final days—and, later, comforted Mapplethorpe after Sam’s passing.

10 Tracks

April 2, 2007 at PDT

Gimme Shelter - Single

1 Trackfalse

May 21, 2018 at PDT

Horses (Live)

9 Tracks

February 25, 1997 at PST

Peace and Noise

Around the time of Gone Again—the 1996 album that marked her return to music—Patti Smith told a journalist that she’d expected her onstage persona to be different. After all, she was now a widow, raising two young kids. “I imagined that I would just be sort of straightforward and dignified and somewhat folky,” Smith said. But neither Gone Again nor its follow-up, 1997’s Peace and Noise, matched that expectation.

Peace and Noise finds Smith settling confidently into her vocals, and there’s a strong connection with the musicians in the band—which makes sense, as the album finds her re-teaming with guitarist Lenny Kaye and drummer Jay Dee Daugherty, both veterans of the Patti Smith Group days. Though the three musicians hadn’t played together on a regular basis for years, these were some of Smith’s most trusted peers. And though she’s perceived as a solo artist, she’s someone who’s always liked being part of a band—a team player who delights in being in a larger musical ensemble.

More than half the songs on Peace and Noise were co-written with poet Oliver Ray, whom Smith had met via Allen Ginsberg. (When asked to describe Ray’s role in the band, Kaye simply said: “I like to listen to the way he hears things.”) Ray was decades younger than the rest of the band, and helped bring in more modern sonic dynamics; as a result, there’s more space on Peace and Noise, which suits the material better, and allows Smith shine as a vocal interpreter of her own work.

The album’s highlights include “Dead City,” a diatribe about the destruction of Detroit; “Don’t Say Nothing,” a protest song about the consequences of not speaking up; and the utterly majestic “Spell,” which is Ginsberg’s “Footnote to Howl” set against a droning, free-jazz dirge. “Death Singing” could be a folk song from the backcountry, while “Memento Mori” allows Smith to play in the improvisational style that marked her work in the 1970s. A loud and glorious 10-minute celebration that finds Smith pushing back against death and dying, “Memento Mori” marks the return of Johnny—the character listeners first encountered in Smith’s 1975 song “Land”—and finds him heading off to war.

10 Tracks

August 22, 2011 at PDT

Outside Society (Remastered)

Released after Patti Smith won the National Book Award for her tender memoir, Just Kids, this best-of compilation charts a chronological path through the punk poet’s most powerful songs from her four-decade career. “Free Money” sounds as visionary now as it did in 1975, Smith dreaming of a life beyond poverty over desperate rock riffs. “Dancing Barefoot” swirls with psychedelic warmth and euphoric release, while her acoustic cover of Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” is what happens when grunge meets Appalachian folk.

18 Tracks

January 7, 2008 at PST

iTunes Originals: Patti Smith

27 Tracks

July 12, 2018 at PDT

These Are The Words (From "Pope Francis: A Man of His Word") - Single

1 Trackfalse

April 26, 2004 at PDT

Trampin'

Released in 2004, Trampin’ is Patti Smith’s ninth album, released nine years after she had returned to life as a working musician. At the time, Smith was more focused on completing her memoir of her life with Robert Mapplethorpe, Just Kids, as well as her visual art, which slowed down her songwriting process. There’s less of a thematic arc in this release as compared to her previous records, but Trampin’ nonetheless contains two of the strongest songs in Smith’s post-1990s repertoire.

“My Blakean Year” was written as an inspirational message from Smith to herself, derived from her love for the English artist William Blake, whose life and career Smith had studied. Blake was a prolific poet, painter, and printmaker who did not let his lack of success or recognition deter him from doing his work. For Smith—a musician who refers to herself as a “worker” and to her performances as “jobs”—it’s not a rhetorical connection.

Elsewhere on the album, the life and death of the peace activist Rachel Corrie serves as the inspiration for “Peaceable Kingdom,” which is both a tribute and a protest song. There’s a dotted line between that track and “Radio Baghdad,” one of the record’s improvisational numbers, based on the experience of an Iraqi mother trying to sing her child to sleep at night while American planes are dropping bombs overhead.

The album closes with a version the traditional song “Trampin’,” which Smith chose because of its connection to Marian Anderson, the exceptional contralto singer who performed the song on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in 1939. That performance was organized when Washington, D.C.’s Constitution Hall refused to allow Anderson to appear on their stage because she was a Black woman (at the time, Washington, D.C. was segregated). The incident became a defining moment in the Civil Rights movement. Smith’s version of “Trampin’” features her daughter Jesse Smith performing piano on the track, the first time the two were recorded playing together.

11 Tracks

November 7, 2019 at PST

Mummer Love

8 Tracks

April 16, 2007 at PDT

Twelve

When Patti Smith was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2007, she was in the midst of working on her memoir, Just Kids. And while she was performing and touring, she hadn’t written any new songs since 2004’s Trampin’. Her record label wanted her to have something to promote while in the spotlight, so Smith—who’d always been an efficient worker in the studio, but who wrote for long stretches—decided to record an album of cover songs.

The resulting album, Twelve, collects a dozen different tracks, recorded with many of Smith’s usual compatriots: Lenny Kaye, Jay Dee Daugherty, and Tony Shanahan. Smith chose songs performed by some of her favorite artists—including Jimi Hendrix and Bob Dylan—while also picking a few tracks she felt would be a good match for her voice. But for the most part, Twelve is a collection of tunes that Smith simply thought would be fun to sing—and that she knew she and her band would be good at performing.

The album is also proof that Smith has a wide-ranging and diverse record collection. On Twelve, you get to enjoy Smith hopping around from Paul Simon (“The Boy in the Bubble”) to Tears for Fears (“Everybody Wants to Rule the World”) to The Rolling Stones (“Gimme Shelter”). Her version of Jefferson Airplane’s “White Rabbit” lets her pay tribute to Grace Slick as a songwriter and vocalist, while Smith’s reverence for Dylan is represented by her take on “Changing of the Guards,” the vaguely autobiographical opening cut of his 1978 album, Street Legal. Most notably, she turns Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” into an Appalachian mountain ballad. It’s a fun assortment of tunes.

12 Tracks

April 19, 2004 at PDT

Trampin'

Released in 2004, Trampin’ is Patti Smith’s ninth album, released nine years after she had returned to life as a working musician. At the time, Smith was more focused on completing her memoir of her life with Robert Mapplethorpe, Just Kids, as well as her visual art, which slowed down her songwriting process. There’s less of a thematic arc in this release as compared to her previous records, but Trampin’ nonetheless contains two of the strongest songs in Smith’s post-1990s repertoire.

“My Blakean Year” was written as an inspirational message from Smith to herself, derived from her love for the English artist William Blake, whose life and career Smith had studied. Blake was a prolific poet, painter, and printmaker who did not let his lack of success or recognition deter him from doing his work. For Smith—a musician who refers to herself as a “worker” and to her performances as “jobs”—it’s not a rhetorical connection.

Elsewhere on the album, the life and death of the peace activist Rachel Corrie serves as the inspiration for “Peaceable Kingdom,” which is both a tribute and a protest song. There’s a dotted line between that track and “Radio Baghdad,” one of the record’s improvisational numbers, based on the experience of an Iraqi mother trying to sing her child to sleep at night while American planes are dropping bombs overhead.

The album closes with a version the traditional song “Trampin’,” which Smith chose because of its connection to Marian Anderson, the exceptional contralto singer who performed the song on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in 1939. That performance was organized when Washington, D.C.’s Constitution Hall refused to allow Anderson to appear on their stage because she was a Black woman (at the time, Washington, D.C. was segregated). The incident became a defining moment in the Civil Rights movement. Smith’s version of “Trampin’” features her daughter Jesse Smith performing piano on the track, the first time the two were recorded playing together.

11 Tracks

March 21, 1999 at PST

Gung Ho

Patti Smith has compared 2000’s Gung Ho—the singer’s eighth album—to her landmark 1978 hit, Easter. Both albums were the result of a tight, highly focused musical connection between Smith and her bandmates. “We’ve struggled together, we’ve toured together,” she told Charlie Rose shortly after Gung Ho’s release. It’s not that Smith and the band are on any kind of autopilot on Gung Ho. But they’ve definitely settled into a firm groove.

And many of the musicians on this album have long been part of Smith’s orbit. Guitarist Lenny Kaye’s songwriting is all over “Lo and Beholden,” which brings in reggae and Arab influences, while drummer Jay Dee Daugherty co-wrote “One Voice.” There are also contributions from such Smith collaborators as Tony Shanahan and Oliver Ray, while both guitarist Tom Verlaine and Michael Stipe—the latter of whom recruited Smith for R.E.M.’s single “E-Bow the Letter”—show up on the Grammy-nominated “Glitter in Their Eyes.”

The arrangements on Gung Ho are lighter and full of strategic flourishes, like the little Farfisa organ riff on “Persuasion,” the echo on Smith’s vocals on the chorus of “Glitter in Their Eyes,” or the helicopters in the title track. Gil Norton, famous for his work with the Pixies, produced the album, and he brings a more modern tone, as well as more context, to the guitars.

Elsewhere on Gung Ho, “Grateful” is a song for the Grateful Dead’s Jerry Garcia, notable because Smith wrote both the music and the lyrics. “Persuasion,” meanwhile, was crafted from an unfinished song by her late husband, Fred “Sonic” Smith, and features an appearance by Grant Hart of Hüsker Dü fame. The album concludes with a grand improvisational moment, “Gung Ho,” a nearly 12-minute jam about the life of Ho Chi Minh, full of tension, chaos, and beautifully resonant guitars.

13 Tracks

November 24, 2022 at PST

The Perfect Vision Reworkings

7 Tracks

September 3, 2020 at PDT

Peradam (feat. Anoushka Shankar, Tenzin Choegyal & Charlotte Gainsbourg)

9 Tracks

May 31, 2012 at PDT

Banga

When Patti Smith returned to public and performing life in the mid-1990s, she gave interview after interview pointing out that she hadn’t stopped working—she just wasn’t executing work for public consumption. Her 11th studio album, 2012’s Banga, is solid proof of that assertion, because it has all the hallmarks of any classic Patti Smith record. Topically, it’s a delightful smörgåsbord of all things Smithian. And musically, it finds her working with a trusted band featuring compatriots both old (Lenny Kaye and Jay Dee Daugherty) and new (Tony Shanahan and Jack Petruzzelli).

Banga features songs about far-flung places (“Fuji-san,” “Amerigo”) and tunes inspired by the obscure artists Smith loves, as on the tracks “Tarkovsky (The Second Stop is Jupiter)” and “Maria.” There’s even a pop song, “April Fool,” which connects thematically and lyrically with her acclaimed memoir Just Kids. And there’s a lengthy improvisation, “Constantine’s Dream,” which lasts for more than 10 minutes, and that features lyrics that were extemporized live in the studio.

Smith also uses the record to pay tribute to her musical loves. There’s a Neil Young cover (“After the Gold Rush”), as well as a literal torch ballad about the late Amy Winehouse (“This Is the Girl”). Meanwhile, “Tarkovsky” borrows so liberally from the experimental Sun Ra that he gets a co-writing credit.

And Banga is deeply personal, as well: There are appearances by Smith’s children, Jackson Smith and Jesse Smith, as well as pals Tom Verlaine and Johnny Depp. Verlaine contributes beautiful, insightful harmonic adornments to “April Fool,” while Depp—whose birthday gift was the song “Nine”—plays guitar and drums on the title track.

12 Tracks

June 1, 2016 at PDT

Killer Road (feat. Patti Smith)

9 Tracks

May 31, 1988 at PDT

Dream of Life

Released in 1988, Dream of Life is a collaboration between Patti Smith and her husband, MC5 guitarist Fred “Sonic” Smith. The pair worked on the record in segments over a series of years, delayed by Patti’s unexpected pregnancy with their second child, Jesse Paris Smith, in 1986.

All of the songs on the record were co-written by the pair, with Fred sharing production duties with Patti’s old friend, Jimmy Iovine, who’d produced her 1978 album, Easter. Iovine had also helped her land a copy of an unfinished Bruce Springsteen demo for “Because the Night,” which had become Patti’s biggest hit.

Still, “Because the Night” was by now a decade old. Dream of Life would need to remind longtime fans of Patti Smith’s powers—and introduce young listeners to her raw, heartfelt sound. As it turned out, the album opens with the song that would become one of her most beloved tunes: “People Have the Power.” As the story goes, Fred walked into the kitchen one night and said, “‘People Have the Power’—write it!” Fred Smith didn’t get to live long enough to see his title become an anthem sung by tens of thousands of people in dozens of countries—a tune performed in front of presidents and other heads of state—but it’s a hell of a legacy.

The rest of Dream of Life is far heavier—at least emotionally—with songs that deal with the struggles of adult life (“Going Under,” “Where Duty Calls”) and the heartache of death: “Up There Down There” was recorded just after the musicians received the news that Andy Warhol had died. And “Paths That Cross”—featuring the lines “Paths that cross will cross again”—was written for Patti’s friend Sam Wagstaff, an art collector and the partner of photographer Robert Mapplethorpe, one of Patti’s closest friends.

Both Wagstaff and Mapplethorpe were diagnosed with AIDS around the same time, and Patti feared that “Paths That Cross”—written to comfort Mapplethorpe—might also serve the same role for her, should Mapplethorpe not survive. But the two men also forged a deep connection with “The Jackson Song,” the final track on Dream of Life—a beautiful lullaby, one written for the Smiths’ first child, Jackson. It was a song that comforted Wagstaff in his final days—and, later, comforted Mapplethorpe after Sam’s passing.

8 Tracks