She came out on stage dressed in black pants, boots, a white t-shirt and a dark jacket. Her hair, proudly grayed, fell over her shoulders. The lanky figure. He raised his arms in salute and the first thing he said was: “Jesus died for someone’s sins, but not for mine.” And thus beginning a performance in the solemn Royal Theater of Madrid sounded like a challenge. That first song led to a crazy version of Gloria, from Van Morrison’s first group, Them. Patti Smith would put her arms crossed, raise her fist, stomp her feet hard on the stage, slouch, place her foot on the monitor and sing in people’s faces. He also danced: GLORIA. His beautiful growl emerged, so real, an unbridled roar at times and at other times a deep and beautiful litany.
Patti Smith (Chicago, 78 years old) offered a sensational concert last night in Madrid before 1,600 people (full), including some musicians like Rosalía (yes, her), Leiva and Abraham Boba. It was a courageous, vindictive, poetic, beautiful recital. And punk: he even spit on the stage (of the Teatro Real!) in the fervor of People Have the Power, right at the end. It was about celebrating 50 years of his first work, Horses (1975), an album that still sounds vigorous and adventurous today, an album that he released at the age of 28 after moving to New York at the age of 19 to develop as a person and as an artist, which in his case is inseparable. It was the New York of The Velvet Underground, of Andy Warhol, of parties in art galleries, of hard drugs, of the birth of punk, of clubs like CBGB… A New York where there was space to form as a person, but also to destroy oneself. She survived; Not so many of his friends, some of whom he remembered last night. He started out as a poet, but later became a singer. She became intimate with the photographer Robert Mapplethorpe, who immortalized her on that cheeky and iconic cover of Horses: androgynous, with suspenders, the jacket on her shoulder “a la Frank Sinatra” and an intimidating yet relaxed look, that of a woman hungry to surrender to whatever life had in store for her.
Last night, Smith played Horses complete and straight. It turned out to be an hour of full-fledged tribute to that album, accentuated by the figure playing to his left, the guitarist Lenny Kaye, so fundamental in his career, and further back, by the drummer Jay Dee Daugherty. Both Kaye and Daugherty participated in the recording of the original Horses and last night they led a band that was just as minimalist and energetic as the one back then, with the protagonist’s son integrated into it. Guitar, bass, drums and keyboards. All dressed in black and white, all playing genuine, raw music, uncompromisingly. With its reggae rhythm, Redondo Beach It broke the rigor of such an illustrious venue and made the spectators dance. That cynical reflection on money that is Free Money It sounded fast, punk. It was difficult to stay in the seat. People moved, their heads, their bodies, impossible to remain rigid. To face the tremendous Birdland He put on his glasses and took out some papers. Memory fails as the years go by, but instead of resorting to the tricky teleprompter she preferred that adorable anomaly that is today a written piece of paper. Kaye accompanied the extensive story of Birdland (ten minutes), which tells how strange Smith felt as a child, drawing labyrinthine and beautiful dots.
So that everyone knew what this was about, Smith then said (and staged it with gestures): “And now, I take the record, I turn it over and I turn on side b.” And the low hesitation of Kimberly, a song dedicated to his sister (her name is Kimberly), 12 years younger. She told a story about when she took care of her and had to stay with the baby in her arms while the other children went to play. “It made me angry, but then I looked at that girl’s smile and it made me happy.” He took advantage of that moment to launch a message with all the intention taking into account those terrible images that we see every day: “There is nothing more precious than the smile of a child, that is why we must remember all the children who suffer and we must help them chart their path to the future.” They shouted “beautiful” and “I Love You,” and she responded “I Love You, Too,” while she drank from a cup and smiled. It was a spectacle to enjoy his gestures and his expressiveness when reciting and singing. More than a singer, Patti Smith acts as decider: His words flow from his lips for the listener to delight. Break It Up, in memory of Jim Morrison, sounded as punk as it did half a century ago.
After an hour of Horses, the protagonist retired and let her robust band perform a medley of songs by Television, a friendly band that also emerged in the mid-seventies and whose leadership fell to Tom Verlaine, who died in 2023, who contributed with compositions and guitars to the rise of Horses. Patti returned for the final stretch with her hair tied up in two braids, adorable, and faced Dancing Barefoot. He dedicated “to the Palestinian people” Peaceable Kingdom, a song written in memory of Rachel Corrie, an activist who was crushed to death by an Israeli tank in 2003. Corrie was 23 years old and was working to protect Palestinian homes being demolished by the Israelis. “What we are seeing now has been happening for decades,” he said, adding: “Hopefully what the song says will come true soon.” He was referring to verses like: “Maybe one day we will be strong enough to rebuild it, to build the kingdom of peace.” Many spectators were brought to tears.
They couldn’t miss Because the Night, which she dedicated to the man in her life, MC5 guitarist Fred Sonic Smith, whose death in 1994 (only 46 years old) caused him great depression that led him to retire from music to take care of his children. “He was the best boyfriend in the world. I’m sorry, girls,” she said flirtatiously to the laughter of the people. He ended with his anthem People Have the Power, written precisely together with Sonic Smith. The audience had left their seats a while ago and was jumping and shouting the chorus. “You have the power, you have the power,” he said, pointing to the audience as his last resounding message.
At the farewell, he had the detail of taking the stage to greet Gay Mercader, legend of the promotion in Spain and in charge of organizing the concert. Mercader took away something that the 1,600 spectators wanted: a protective and warm hug from Patti Smith, the best recipe to face what is happening out there with some fortitude and hope.