Album Club Runs With The Horses

The powerful voice of Patti Smith emanated from the speakers in the side room of Never Ending Books Monday night, as the latest installment of Album Club met to pour over her debut 1975 punk-rock album, Horses.

In her music, Smith is a wild horse herself, powerful and untamed. Horses is the kind of album that needs to be analyzed as seriously as any novel, and the group were prepared to do just that.

“I’m a big fan of discussing art and absorbing it,” said Dean Andrade, who founded and has led the club for nearly two years. ​“I was craving something novel, something a bit more nerdy, and also interested in the possibilities of consuming art as a group.”

Andrade focused on female artists of the past for his group. ​“It’s about decentering the male canon,” he said. At the end of every meeting, he offered the group three choices of albums and they selected one to discuss at the next meeting. Last meeting, the options were Joni Mitchell’s Blue, Carole King’s Tapestry, and Patti Smith’s Horses.

Andrade expressed some surprise that Horses had been chosen, calling it less ​“friendly” than the other albums. Smith’s work is highly literary and incorporates a plethora of musical and poetical references, which, combined with her highly experimental style, might be alienating to some listeners. But the group members voted for Horses anyway. ​“I got the gist that it was because it’s different from anything we’ve done before,” said Andrade.

After a quick icebreaker question of songs that cooled people off — group members suggested The Kinks’ ​“Sand on My Shoes,” Nicki Minaj’s ​“Starships,” and FIDLAR’s ​“No Waves” — Andrade asked the group to begin by examining the album cover. The cover showcases Smith, photographed by her sometimes-lover Robert Mapplethorpe, in what would typically be considered masculine garb and a short, abrupt haircut.

“It feels so muted and almost plain,” said club participant Alli Tortorici. ​“It does not match the vibes of the album.” While the black-and-white palate of the photo seemed at odds with the vibrant vivacity of Smith’s songs, there was also a certain boldness to her stance that echoed her attitude in her music. On Horses, Smith sings as someone with the utmost confidence in herself and her message.

“It’s not very sexual at all, or very revealing,” said participant Tif Brisbane. ​“It’s very androgynous, very masculine really.”

Smith’s leather jacket and shaggy hair reminded Ryan Licwinko, who worked at Never Ending Books, of The Ramones. It was an apt connection; The Ramones were another punk band operating in New York City around the same time as Smith. ​“It seems super wedgie, there’s some wedge going on,” Licwinko said.

“She’s not conventionally a very feminine figure,” agreed Andrade. ​“This album is usually described as very poetic … all music is poetic, but this is, like, poetic poetic.” Smith began her career as a poet, and poetry is central to her music, much of which sounds like spoken word performed to a melody.

Andrade encouraged the group to share whatever they felt about the album, even things they didn’t like. ​“The enunciation is hard for me,” said participant Cara Santino. Brisbane agreed that they had trouble understanding Smith’s words. In music that was so wordy and so lyric-centric, this took away from some of the enjoyment.

“I think being a poet first, she wanted to make an album as a poet,” said participant Nick Fiorentino. He brought up some of Smith’s influences, which include musicians like Jim Morrison and Janis Joplin, as well as literary figures like Arthur Rimbaud and William S. Burroughs, whose work is referenced in Smith’s raw, often violent language. Horses was also produced by former Velvet Underground member John Cale, who worked with the experimental composer John Cage (best known for his piece 4’33”) and whose modernist influence is evident throughout the album.

“No one’s gonna look at Patti Smith and say she’s sharp or she’s flat. She’s just experiencing what she’s written,” said Fiorentino.

Next, Andrade asked about the themes in the album, which are as scattered and outrageous as Smith’s sound. Some songs are personal, like ​“Free Money,” about Smith’s childhood growing up in poverty; others are fantastical, like ​“Birdland,” inspired by a memoir called A Book of Dreams, where a boy attends his father’s funeral and imagines a UFO piloted by his father’s spirit.

“There were a couple of songs about loss,” posited participant Javi Ascencio, citing ​“Birdland,” ​“Redondo Beach,” and ​“Eligie.”

“Every song here is about death,” agreed Andrade.

“Also love, but I’m not sure how much of it was love or sensuality,” said Ascencio. Smith’s convolution of love and death, sensuality and violence, may have come in part from the lives of some of her heroes: Rimbaud was shot by his lover Verlaine, and Burroughs killed his wife while reenacting a ​“William Tell” incident.

The conversation turned to the issue of genre. Horses is considered a punk rock album, and highly influential in both genres, but the group was hesitant to call Smith’s music punk.

“The way she writes about it, punk is music without propriety, but it’s also very male dominated,” said Andrade. ​“How different is a female doing it? Is punk misogynist inherently?”

“Not inherently, but when you incorporate white supremacy,” said Brisbane.

“In theory, misogyny should be the least punk thing ever,” added Ascencio. ​“Maybe it’s just that punk encourages angry expression … but it’s all about inclusivity.”

“I like punk, and I wouldn’t consider it a punk album,” said Licwinko. ​“What it reminds me of is Television.” In fact, one of the members of Television, Tom Verlaine, plays on one of the songs, ​“Break It Up.”

Andrade shared his view of Smith as an artist obsessed with the ​’60s: Bob Dylan, Jim Morrison, the jazz of that time.

“I think a lot of attitudes and music in the ​’70s was a reflection of what happened in the ​’60s,” said Fiorentino. He painted a picture of the 1960s as revolutionary and the 1970s as disillusioned in the aftermath. It was a time to ​“try new things. And if it came out a little dark or a little weird, that’s okay,” Fiorentino said.

Tortorici brought up the use of sampling throughout the album. ​“Maybe they need to make it more palatable, because it’s essentially a lot of spoken word,” suggested Santino. Fiorentino argued that Smith ​“reinvented” the songs she used.

Next, Andrade brought up the widespread idea that, with Horses, Smith had ​“saved rock.” The discussion centered on whether that suggestion was evidence of Smith being pretentious and over-inflating her own importance.

Fiorentino felt that Smith was simply responding to a niche in the market. ​“There are people who want to fill the void, and people who want the void to be filled,” he said.

“I lean on the side that there is a pretentiousness to her music, but I can respect that she used her samples and callbacks to give respect to those who inspired her,” said Ascencio. ​“She had an ego for sure.”

To end the evening, Andrade asked about present-day artists that were similar to Smith. ​“Lana del Rey might be Patti Smith inspired,” said participant Jaden Marganski. ​“It’s not trying to be catchy, just trying to convey emotion.”

On that note, the group decided that the album for the next meeting would be Lana del Rey’s Born to Die.

But where Patti Smith and modern female confessional artists differ is in the fact that there is nothing soft, sweet, or sentimental about Smith. Her voice is harsh to the point of being abrasive, but in a way that makes her lyrics even smoother. She’s poetic — and maybe a little pretentious — but like the wild horses she sings about, the heart is strong and true. A seminal artist with a groundbreaking album, Smith and her work need to be discussed to be better understood. To consume art as a group is to learn, not just from it, but from your peers. The members of Album Club left Never Ending Books with a new appreciation for Horses, and a greater musical knowledge about the world of ​’70s punk rock.