“I was baptized in Logan Square in 1947,” Patti Smith said. On November 18, the Chicago stop of Smith’s Horses tour, the night felt much like a gathering around a campfire, as the audience listened to chronicles spun by a wise singer.
As if waking up from a nap, Smith arose in full force for the 50th anniversary of her 1975 album Horses. The tour, spanning cities across Europe and the United States, marks the first time in 20 years that Smith has performed her entire debut album. The songs rang out through the Chicago Theater in her characteristic voice, infusing urgent spoken word with propulsive rock melodies.
The crowd was summoned by Smith on the opening track, “Gloria.” Inviting us with “I said, darling, tell me your name,” she commenced an unrelenting repetition, enunciating each letter. Oscillating between sounding out a string of letters and obsessing over the identity of a single woman in the crowd, the song embodied Smith’s vision of an individual experience becoming the basis for a common harmony.
However, we were soon confronted with conflict when Smith chanted, “Horses, horses, horses,” her voice building in intensity. The sense of an imminent clash was tangible. Was this a battle call? A séance? As she told the story of a boy who overcomes a classroom bully to embark on an ecstatic parade of self-transformation in “Land” (part one: “Horses” / part two: “Land of a Thousand Dances” / part three: “La Mer(de)”), Smith’s determination was razor sharp. Her unwavering conviction in erratic stories also compels us to believe her.
Despite her 78 years, Smith possesses a remarkably vivid memory. Between tracks, she wove in recollections and dreams tied to each song, creating a tapestry of artistic lineage and history. Anecdotes about legends like Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, and Tom Verlaine were evoked with such warmth that they were bathed in a flattering, nearly mythic light. “Thank you, Jimi,” Smith said after performing “Elegie,” a song dedicated to Hendrix. From the crowd came an echo—“thank you, Patti”—a testament to Smith’s rightful place among rock ’n’ roll’s legends.
Even as an enshrined rock ’n’ roll Hall of Famer, Smith is undeniably vulnerable with her emotions. She shared the story behind her lone Billboard hit, “Because the Night,” during the show. The melody was donated by Bruce Springsteen. While waiting for a weekly phone call from her long-distance boyfriend in the era of costly rates, she finally played the song as she paced her apartment. Anticipating the ring of the phone, the music stirred something inside her. The lines emerged instinctively: “Love is a ring, the telephone.” Her vivacity made it feel as if no time had passed since her anxious night in her New York City apartment.
Smith also paid homage to her hometown of Chicago. As a child, her father, Grant Smith, joked that their neighboring Grant Park was named after him. Although her family moved to Philadelphia when she was four, Smith retains a deep sense of kinship to the Windy City. She also inherited her father’s knack for spirited storytelling. Even in her golden years, Smith retains her biting humor. After sharing a story, someone in the audience greeted her with “Welcome home, Patti.” She responded, “Glad to be back,” but when they kept jeering the phrase, she snarked, “Yeah, like I said, glad to be fucking back.”
On the 50th anniversary of Horses’s release, Smith remains unrelenting. She maintains the same fierce, thundering energy that inspired the album. Midway through the night, Smith energized us with the spirit of an ardent rebellion in “Free Money.” She gestured wildly, rocking toe to heel across the stage with an urgent energy. Entering the chorus as if it were a rainmaking ritual, she roared the repeated refrain “free money, free money, free money.” At her most instinctive, Smith turns a shared emotion into fully embodied anarchy.
That roiling spirit continued into the final song of the night, “People Have the Power,” as she wielded pointed political commentary. She asserted, with unmistakable conviction, “The people have the power/ To redeem the work of fools.” In that moment, Smith reminded us that the struggles of our current era are not so different from those of 50 years ago. As poetry, tales, and music were spun into the night, the multitalented rock artist and bard showed that her artistry still transcends categorization. With her impassioned performance, Smith implied she feels no great separation from the past. The distance of half a century is not so great that Horses cannot traverse it.
