Patricia Lee Smith nació en Chicago, en 1946. Hija de una cantante de Jazz, recibió durante su infancia, además de una notable influencia musical, una rígida formación religiosa; como suele suceder en estos casos, en cuanto tuvo algo de uso de razón huyó despavorida de cualquier tipo de religión organizada. En uno de sus poemas, escribe: "Jesús murió por los pecados de alguien, pero no por los míos".
Con 20 años tuvo que abandonar la Universidad por las carencias económicas de su familia, y emigró a Nueva York, donde se puso a currar en una librería, buen lugar para dar rienda suelta a sus innumerables inquietudes intelectuales. Dos añitos después, se larga con su hermana a París, donde empieza a cantar temas propios en la calle, además de intervenir en Performances teatrales y pintar de forma casi convulsiva. Los primeros años de la década de los 70, de vuelta a Nueva York, los pasa actuando, escribiendo sin parar y actuando en obras de teatro, además de ser la crítica especialista en Rock de la revista musical Creem.
En 1974 crea la mini banda "Patti Smith Group". Además de versiones de Hendrix y los Purple, canta (casi recita) temas en los que habla de la frustración de trabajar en una cadena de montaje (lo había hecho muy jovencita), de la trampa de las religiones, de ecología...
En 1975 edita su album "Horses", aclamado por la crítica y cuya portada (que preside esta reseña) se convertiría en mítica con el paso de los años. Contiene el tema "Gloria", de los Doors y varios recitativos, así como algún tema que podría clasificarse como Punk-Rock.
El album de 1978 "Easter" contiene el tema más conocido de Patti Smith: "Because the night", compuesto a medias con Bruce Springsteen. Al año siguiente publica "Waves", totalmente prescindible.
Se casa, tiene hijos y vive prácticamente retirada de la música hasta 1988, cuando sale el disco "Dream oflife", del que siendo generosos rescataremos "People have the power". Muere su marido, muere su hermano y no vuelve a aparecer en escena hasta 1995, cuando hace una gira con Bob Dylan, aunque sin dejar nunca de lado su activismo político.
En 1996, se anima a volver a componer y graba un tema llamado "About a boy", dedicado a su gran amigo Kurt Cobain, que acaba de suicidarse, lo cual cabrea monumentalmente a Patti. Musicalmente, poco (o nada) más, sinceramente. Se dedica a componer canciones que hablan de la invasión del Tibet, de sus padres, de Ho Chi Min... De todos modos, en el 2002 salió un recopilatorio llamado "Land", que resume bastante bien su carrera y en el que se encuentra un interesante cover del tema de Prince "When Doves Cry" y otro del "Gimme Shelter", de los Stones.
Patti Smith ha ejercido una notable influencia en muchos órdenes de la vida, su imagen andrógina y poco femenina fueron una bofetada en aquellos 70, su poesía animó el cotarro "beat", su activismo antibélico y en pro de los derechos humanos sigue hoy día y -gracias a sus letras- muchos lerdos comehamburguesas descubrieron la poesía francesa del XIX, sobre todo a Rimbaud. Reconozcamos también que ejercer tanta influencia, no siempre trae consecuencias positivas, Michael Stipe, de R.E.M. declaró en una ocasión: "Cuando, a los 15 años, escuché Horses, me impactó tanto que justo en ese momento decidí que algún día crearía una banda".
Joer, Patti....
Gloria
ResponderEliminarJesus died for somebody's sins but not mine
meltin' in a pot of thieves
wild card up my sleeve
thick heart of stone
my sins my own
they belong to me, me
people say "beware!"
but I don't care
the words are just
rules and regulations to me, me
I-I walk in a room, you know I look so proud
I'm movin' in this here atmosphere, well, anything's allowed
and I go to this here party and I just get bored
until I look out the window, see a sweet young thing
humpin' on the parking meter, leanin' on the parking meter
oh, she looks so good, oh, she looks so fine
and I got this crazy feeling and then
I'm gonna ah-ah make her mine
ooh I'll put my spell on her
here she comes
walkin' down the street
here she comes
comin' through my door
here she comes
crawlin' up my stair
here she comes
waltzin' through the hall
in a pretty red dress
and oh, she looks so good, oh, she looks so fine
and I got this crazy feeling that I'm
gonna ah-ah make her mine
[Más Letras en es.mp3lyrics.org/DEWr]
and then I hear this knockin' on my door
hear this knockin' on my door
and I look up into the big tower clock
and say, "oh my God here's midnight!"
and my baby is walkin' through the door
leanin' on my couch she whispers to me
and I take the big plunge
and oh, she was so good and oh, she was so fine
and I'm gonna tell the world that I just ah-ah made her mine
and I said darling, tell me your name, she told me her name
she whispered to me, she told me her name
and her name is, and her name is, and her name
is, and her name is G-L-O-R-I-A
G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria
G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria
I was at the stadium
There were twenty thousand girls
called their names out to me
Marie and Ruth but to tell you the truth
I didn't hear them I didn't see
I let my eyes rise to the big tower clock
and I heard those bells chimin' in my heart
going ding dong ding dong ding dong ding dong.
ding dong ding dong ding dong ding dong
counting the time, then you came to my room
and you whispered to me and we took the big plunge
and oh. you were so good, oh, you were so fine
and I gotta tell the world that I
make her mine make her mine
make her mine make her mine make her mine make her mine
G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria,
G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria
and the tower bells chime, "ding dong" they chime
they're singing, "Jesus died for
somebody's sins but not mine."
Gloria G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria G-L-O-R-I-A,
Gloria G-L-O-R-I-A, G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria
G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria,
G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria,
G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria .
La gran Patti.. ese look casi andrógino,de delgadez extrema y aspecto masculino en su forma de vestir, que marcó una moda que dura hasta nuestros días.
ResponderEliminarEsa voz tan particular, desgarradora,que inundaba de desesperación todas sus canciones, cómo arrastraba las palabras, como si en cada una de ellas dejase parte de sí misma... Sus baladas me apasionan, en particular "Birdland" y su rock desmadejado no te deja indiferente.. Sí señor, una gran dama del Rock!!
Es cierto, la Smith creó escuela.
ResponderEliminarPersonalmente pienso que nunca está de más añadir ese ingrediente, para mí fundamental, de la cultura , entendida con letras mayúsculas.
Su intelectualismo en aquella época fue fundamental, así como su feminismo, por eso la aplaudo, aunque se pueda ser feminista y no llevar bigote, pero esa es otra vaina.
A veces tengo la impresión que juzgamos con excesivo celo y dureza el aborregamiento generalizado del mundo yanki, claro, la gran masa no conocía a Verlaine o Rimbaud y tuvieron que llegar Ginsberg, Kerouac y Burroughs en la literatura y Patti Smith en la musica para descubrirles la poesía , la liberación sexual ,bla , bla bla.
Pero mirémonos al ombligo, acaso ha habido algún movimiento musical parecido en España? Que evidentemente tenga relación con el rock , el punk o algo similar y que se dedique a difundir a nuestros mostrencos adolescentes la poesía norteamericana del XIX? Que vivan la rebeldía a golpe de Whitman o Thoreau?
Jaja, hay que reírse por no llorar...
Besos
no me extraña ke no hayan mas komentarios. entre la luna y la tomatita ya se ha dicho todo ! no se ke mas se podria añadir. solo ke he visto ke la tomatita entra desde haze poko al blog del pub sitio y lo zierto es ke me mola mil las kosas ke dize y sobre todo komo las dize.
ResponderEliminarBirdland
ResponderEliminarHis father died and left him a little farm in New England.
All the long black funeral cars left the scene
And the boy was just standing there alone
Looking at the shiny red tractor
Him and his daddy used to sit inside
And circle the blue fields and grease the night.
It was if someone had spread butter on all the fine points of
the stars
'Cause when he looked up they started to slip.
Then he put his head in the crux of his arm
And he started to drift, drift to the belly of a ship,
Let the ship slide open, and he went inside of it
And saw his daddy 'hind the control board streamin' beads of
light,
He saw his daddy 'hind the control board,
And he was very different tonight
'Cause he was not human, he was not human.
And then the little boy's face lit up with such naked joy
That the sun burned around his lids and his eyes were like two
suns,
White lids, white opals, seeing everything just a little bit too
clearly
And he looked around and there was no black ship in sight,
No black funeral cars, nothing except for him the raven
And fell on his knees and looked up and cried out,
“No, daddy, don't leave me here alone,
Take me up, daddy, to the belly of your ship,
Let the ship slide open and I'll go inside of it
Where you're not human, you are not human.â€
But nobody heard the boy's cry of alarm.
Nobody there 'cept for the birds around the New England farm
And they gathered in all directions, like roses they scattered
And they were like compass grass coming together into the head
of a shaman bouquet
Slit in his nose and all the others went shooting
And he saw the lights of traffic beckoning like the hands of
Blake
Grabbing at his cheeks, taking out his neck,
All his limbs, everything was twisted and he said,
“I won't give up, won't give up, don't let me give up,
I won't give up, come here, let me go up fast,
Take me up quick, take me up, up to the belly of a ship
And the ship slides open and I go inside of it where I am not
human.â€
I am helium raven and this movie is mine,
So he cried out as he stretched the sky,
Pushing it all out like latex cartoon, am I all alone in this
generation?
We'll just be dreaming of animation night and day
And won't let up, won't let up and I see them coming in,
Oh, I couldn't hear them before, but I hear 'em now,
It's a radar scope in all silver and all platinum lights
Moving in like black ships, they were moving in, streams of
them,
And he put up his hands and he said, “It's me, it's me,
I'll give you my eyes, take me up, oh now please take me up,
I'm helium raven waitin' for you, please take me up,
Don't leave me here!â€
The son, the sign, the cross,
Like the shape of a tortured woman, the true shape of a tortured
woman,
The mother standing in the doorway letting her sons
No longer presidents but prophets
They're all dreaming they're gonna bear the prophet,
He's gonna run through the fields dreaming in animation
It's all gonna split his skull
It's gonna come out like a black bouquet shining
Like a fist that's gonna shoot them up
Like light, like Mohammed Boxer
Take them up up up up up up
Oh, let's go up, up, take me up, I'll go up,
I'm going up, I'm going up
Take me up, I'm going up, I'll go up there
Go up go up go up go up up up up up up up
Up, up to the belly of a ship.
Let the ship slide open and we'll go inside of it
Where we are not human, we're not human.
Well, there was sand, there were tiles,
The sun had melted the sand and it coagulated
Like a river of glass
When it hardened he looked at the surface
He saw his face
And where there were eyes were just two white opals, two white
opals,
Where there were eyes there were just two white opals
And he looked up and the rays shot
And he saw raven comin' in
And he crawled on his back and he went up
Up up up up up up
Sha da do wop, da shaman do way, sha da do wop, da shaman do
way,
Sha da do wop, da shaman do way, sha da do wop, da shaman do
way,
Sha da do wop, da shaman do way,
We like birdland.
querida anónima.. es que tomatita sabe lo suyo.. cualquiera le rechista!!yo no, claro está,por que la adoro....
ResponderEliminary cuanta razón tienes, es lo que le sucede a un país que no tiene cultura propia..o que no supo aprovechar todas las oportunidades de culturizarse que le dieron todos los que aportaron su grano de arena a la hora de "crearlo"..lo suyo es la cultura "anticultural"...y tienes toda la razón, deberíamos mirar primero hacia nuestro ombligo!!
Gracias Asmodeo por la letrita!!