Artist: Patti Smith · Year: 1975 · Label: Arista Records · Rolling Stone Rank: 26 / 500
Horses is the moment rock ’n’ roll stops caring about category and starts speaking in pure instinct. Patti Smith steps to the microphone like a poet at a séance: half shaman, half street kid, channeling Rimbaud, Elvis, garage rock and free verse into something that didn’t exist before this album.
It’s not just the birth of punk—it’s the start of an entirely new permission structure for what a frontperson can be.
Context: CBGB, Poetry Readings and a New York in Ruins
Before Horses, Smith was already a legend in downtown New York: a poet, performance artist, and occasional rock ’n’ roll collaborator. She brought her words to CBGB at a time when the club was incubating Television, the Ramones and Talking Heads—but Patti’s approach was different. She saw rock as a vehicle for incantation rather than entertainment.
Recorded with John Cale (ex–Velvet Underground) producing, the album captured this collision of literary ambition and primal band energy. The result sounds like a live exorcism recorded in a room full of ghosts.
Sound, Songs and Spoken-Word Electricity
The album opens with a shock: “Gloria: In Excelsis Deo.” Smith takes Van Morrison’s garage classic and rewrites it from the inside, starting with the immortal line: “Jesus died for somebody’s sins but not mine.” It’s a statement of intent—rejecting guilt, embracing desire, claiming autonomy.
“Redondo Beach” folds ska inflections into a story of loss and queer subtext. “Birdland” is an extended, free-associative vision based on Peter Reich’s memoir, stretching from hushed murmurs to full-blown rock and roll glossolalia. “Free Money” turns poverty and fantasy into a storm of chords and ecstatic vocals.
The band—Lenny Kaye on guitar, Ivan Kral on bass, Jay Dee Daugherty on drums—plays with both looseness and intent, giving Smith space to stretch phrases, shift gears mid-line, or launch into spoken-word flights. The production is raw but clear, letting every syllable land.
Impact and Legacy
Horses is a cornerstone of punk not because it sounds like the Ramones, but because it redefines what authenticity means. Smith’s androgynous look, confrontational lyrics and refusal to play the star in a traditional way inspired generations: from Siouxsie Sioux and Michael Stipe to PJ Harvey, Courtney Love and beyond.
It also opened a door for poetry in rock that didn’t sound precious or academic—it sounded dangerous.
How to Listen Today
Don’t treat Horses as background music. Put on “Gloria” and really listen to the words. Let “Birdland” run all the way through, even when it feels overwhelming—that’s the point. Notice how Smith uses repetition and rhythm like a drummer uses fills.
For SlaveToMusic readers: this is the masterclass in using rock as a page for poetry, and the voice as an instrument of pure will.