Patti Smith is one of my favourite writers. She writes with soul, poetry (literally), and depth. I love her books, I love her lyrics, I love her poems.
Will I do her justice with this review in the same way?
Probably, almost definitely not.
I first saw Patti Smith live at the first Latitude Festival in 2006, when I was 26. This was pretty special because she was reading her poetry in the Poetry Arena that year, and so was I! There was a moment backstage where she was standing right in front of me. My friend said I should say something, but all I could think to myself was, “What could I possibly have to say to Patti Smith?” Within minutes, she had gone, like a punk-rock mirage.
Fast forward twenty years (Jesus, twenty years?!) – I’m now 46 and at Brighton Dome, lucky enough to see the Patti Smith Quartet. Back at the Brighton Festival for the fifth time, Patti called Brighton, on her Instagram account, “a favourite place to be.”
It was a Tuesday night and the queues were round the corner, snaking right up to the Pavilion Gardens Cafe. A fairly mixed demographic of punters – mostly older, though I did see some young miserable Brighton emos, which made me happy. Our seats were in the stalls facing the front of the stage, side on. After navigating cramped knees and toes, we claimed our positions before smiling at each other and declaring, “These are great seats!”
The Brighton Dome stage was modestly set, just the instruments sleeping, waiting to be played. The vibe in the room was friendly, excited, grateful, and happy to be here.
Photo: Jo Overfield
The lights dimmed to moody as Patti Smith casually walked onstage, beaming with open arms in her trademark blazer, a ‘Fuck the Clock’ t-shirt, and jeans, looking effortlessly cool. The Brighton crowd whistled, cheered, and applauded, including us. Suddenly that familiar, dreamy guitar riff kicked in…
“She is benediction.”
“She is addicted to thee.”
‘Dancing Barefoot’, my favourite Patti song and my partner’s favourite too, it turns out. We looked at each other, feeling high in connection. A song that represents “the love of one human being for another, and the love of one’s creator” – to quote Patti herself. It’s just a cool song, from the 1979 Wave album, produced by Todd Rundgren. Perfect way to open the show. I felt blissed out already. Thanks, Patti.
Jackson Smith (Patti’s son) soloed on electric guitar while we all waited in anticipation for what came next. The standing crowds were loving it, a sea of nostalgic swaying. Smith introduced ‘Blakean Year’, inspired by her beloved William Blake, a song about perseverance through the creative struggle. Relatable. Smith bobbed, wove, and bounced around the stage unlike any soon-to-be octogenarian I’ve ever seen. Tony Shanahan, on keys and bass, started the bluesy intro into ‘Revenge’. Smith growled the lyrics in a raspy spoken-word baritone. Her diction is always so clear and felt – you really hear what you’re meant to.
‘Revenge’ ended and she took a sip of what was maybe coffee, I hope, and quipped, “It’s not about anyone in particular, just men in general.” We all laughed and clapped.
Smith started to tell us about a dream she had involving Jim Morrison trapped in some sort of marble stone, but he had these wings that merged with the marble, and he was trying to break free from the struggle, like Prometheus. In her dream, Smith was standing over him yelling “Break it up, break it up!” to free him. The stone dissolved, he moved away, lost feathers fell at her pillow, and she returned to sleep. Smith’s story took me right back to when I first read her memoir, Just Kids, which I adored. She has the talent and ability to put you right in the story. ‘Break It Up’ segued into a dreamy, perfect cover of The Doors’ ‘Crystal Ship’. The fluttering keys from Shanahan were classic Manzarek. Smith’s vocals echoed the very presence of Jim. The Patti Smith Quartet gives good Doors.
More poet friends of the past joined us – Arthur Rimbaud now, in the wake of a Smith monologue, with atmospheric instrumentals in the background. Psychedelic and poetic, the room had been hypnotized and sat poised as ‘Nine’ slowly rumbled into the set. Jackson Smith finished with another impressive guitar solo and some excellent improvised drumming from Seb Roach. ‘Pissing in the River’ followed, invoking cheers and pumped beer hands in the air from the standing crowd at the front. Smith’s vocals were raw and visceral as she surrendered to the lyrics: “What about it? What about it?”
We then moved to something of a break while Shanahan and the band gave us a Tom Verlaine cover, ‘Kingdom Come’. Our singer and leader briefly left the stage – I hope for a coffee refill. When Smith came back, she shared with us, “We’re gonna try something.” Brighton Dome approved – you could feel the collective energy between Smith fans. ‘Fireflies’ was given its live debut here in Brighton, a track from Smith’s 1996 album Gone Again. Fireflies was written after the passing of her husband, Fred “Sonic” Smith. The fact she chose to give it its debut here felt heartfelt and genuine. Smith stated afterwards to a chuffed Brighton crowd, “This song will grow, but it will always have begun here.” You had us at “We’re gonna try something.”
Suddenly the organ chords kicked in to ‘Space Monkey’. Smith leaned into the crowd with her boot on the monitor and snarled, “Blood on the TV, ten o’clock news,” and we were right there with her in the late seventies again. I always feel like I’ve missed out on something special, not having been around to see Patti Smith in the seventies. However, her performance tonight was strong – she still has that power and passion. There is tenacity and fearlessness in her that makes me feel lucky for seeing Patti Smith IN her seventies. She acted out the storytelling of Space Monkey’s character, holding her arms in the air chanting “Up, up, up, up,” signalling the crowd to follow. It felt like theatre and we were here for it.
When Smith asked for the lights to come up, it prompted a few “We love you, Patti!” yelps. Smith responded with the next song, ‘Ghost Dance’ – another hymn-like, spiritual, and emotional piece. As the band joined in for “We shall live again,” so did we – the Dome – obviously, before joining in again to “Shake out the ghost.” Smith then dedicated the next song to the people of Palestine, and the children of Iran and Lebanon: ‘Peaceable Kingdom’. Co-written with Shanahan, this was a poignant, moving tribute to Rachel Corrie, the 23-year-old American activist who tragically lost her life.
We were all well aware this show was only an hour long, even though we started late. As soon as those iconic piano chords trickled into ‘Because the Night’, we knew we were winding down with Smith. The Dome was pumped, clearly revelling in this classic rock anthem: “Because the night belongs to lovers, because the night belongs to us” – and we all knew she meant Brighton.
‘People Have the Power’ quickly came next, a song made for community and union, and Smith reminded us on the microphone to “use your voice.” It was of course the perfect song to end with. It made you feel part of something special, and it had felt like that tonight. The band and their singer casually left the stage in the same way they arrived. The crowd was cheering, standing, and stomping.
Smith returned, mysteriously with her daughter Jessie Smith onstage, phone curiously in her hand, and asked us, the Brighton Dome people, to help sing Happy Birthday to her friend ‘John’. They were meant to be at his party but chose to come to Brighton instead. So could we do this in favour of another song? We did what Patti Smith asked, and I think John was pretty thrilled. It was the least we could do.
The finale was Smith’s punk-rock declaration of independence classic, ‘Gloria: In Excelsis Deo’, and everyone was up – my seat was shaking from the woman’s grooves next to me. Smith’s energy was unbounding. Each time she called out “G-L-O-R-I-A,” it was done with the same force as before, the same energy as Horses, 1975. You didn’t need to be in the audience at CBGB’s in the seventies to feel Patti Smith at her best. THIS was Patti Smith at her best. This is Patti Smith. Fuck the clock, like her t-shirt says. It said it then, and it says it now, because there is no timeline for moments like these. It’s ours, Brighton.
“Even if I have to slow down here or there, I promise I’ll always come back to Brighton” — and we know she means it.
Featured Image: Patti Smith (IG)