Smith fierce, visceral, relevant in long-awaited return to Milwaukee
Rocker energized on 1975’s ‘Horses’
It took nearly 38 years for Patti Smith to return to Milwaukee.
But Thursday night, she put on a fierce, purposeful show that honored the past, felt visceral and relevant in the present and will be remembered in the future.
The first half of her twohour Milwaukee Theatre concert was dedicated to 1975’s “Horses,” performed in full, the album’s guitarist Lenny Kaye and drummer Jay Dee Daugherty present for the recreation.
Smith’s debut album catapulted her from New York’s underground to a rising star, confirmed by an ecstatic crowd at Milwaukee’s Oriental Theatre in March 1976. Today we fully comprehend the significance of “Horses.” From Smith’s fusion of poetry with punk to its pioneering gender fluidity, it elevated rock as an art form, helped define its rebellious spirit and influenced countless others, including many an accomplished rocker.
Smith approached parts of “Horses” with admiration Thursday. She reflected on her dream that inspired “Break It Up,” of Jim Morrison trapped in the statue of an angel, “with beautiful wings, carved in marble, as if by the hands of Michaelangelo.” She chewed on the album’s signature opening line — “Jesus died for somebody’s sins, but not mine” — with winking delight.
Smith, at 70, isn’t some nostalgia act, and the bucking “Horses” isn’t a relic. A fire in her throat and anguish on her face, Smith spit across the stage for the swagger-swinging “Gloria: In Excelsis Deo,” and convulsed during the lunatic ravings of “Birdland.”
On “Land:,” she was a terrifying, snarling bully; a childlike “Watusi” dancer; a motivational speaker charging the people to “feel your sense of power” — a sense of fearlessness connecting the personas. “Elegie,” her tribute to Jimi Hendrix, transformed into a moving remembrance of family, friends and artists alike. Smith called out the names of David Bowie, Prince, her close friend Robert Mapplethorpe and several others. At her suggestion, people in the crowd did the same; there were cries for Sharon Jones, Leonard Cohen, a Richard, a Katie.
Instead of melancholy, expressed joy, embracing the celebration of loved lost ones. Smith reserved her most touching tribute for her late husband, Fred “Sonic” Smith of the MC5. It was on March 9, 1976, when Kaye introduced the two in Detroit. Forty-one years to the day at the Milwaukee Theatre, Smith performed three songs she wrote for her husband, including “Because the Night” and “Dancing Barefoot,” their son Jackson playing guitar in the band. The gesture was nearly ruined by a front-row fan who had placed items on the stage, prompting a furious Smith to snap, “This is not your (expleSmith tive) trash can.” Finding positivity from fans’ handshakes, Smith’s smile returned, as she sang, “Here’s to the moment when you said hello,” dancing freely with Kaye on the rarelyperformed “Frederick.”
She wasn’t so genteel with her empowered political anthems “Ghost Dance” (dedicated to protesters at Standing Rock), “Power to the People” and “Citizen Ship,” which closed with feisty new lyrics about the country “being built on the shoulders and the backs of immigrants.”
And Smith didn’t hold back during an aggressive cover of the Who’s “My Generation,” tearing into Donald Trump with expletives. “This is our idea of a (expletive) weapon,” Smith yelled as she brandished a guitar, ripping into its strings a moment later, a rainbow-colored “Peace” flag covering her head. It was certainly over the top, but Smith wanted nothing less than to evoke a revolution.
“I’m going to live until I’m (expletive) 110,” Smith screamed at one point during the finale, the thunderous applause matching her vein-popping conviction.
It’s an earnest notion. With unshakeable music and unforgettable concerts, Smith has found a way to live forever.