Friday, July 23, 2004
Patti Smith
Trampin’
Reviewed by Charles Tan
What’s this thing online about Patti Smith being a pretentious bitch? Well, Lester Bangs did mention that when he was alive and reviewing a Patti Smith album. See, the thing with listening to an album is that you are never sure if the musician is pretending or not. We can only “review” an album based on what is being produced and take it at face value. And what is pretentious about Patti Smith? Frankly speaking, I don’t care a hood as long as she writes good music.
Trampin’ is the kind of album that you can play back decades later and it would never have mattered if you knew when it was made or released, because it is not the kind of contemporary rock album that has a time imprint on it. For all we know, it sounds like it was written in the seventies with tracks such as Mother Rose which is a melodic rock ballad with Patti at her easiest to sing along. Yet, it is sheer poetry, a wistful paean, a cry to the nurturing mother rose symbolizing a ray of hope amidst the pessimistic night. Then there are the mid tempo guzzling rock tracks like “Stride of the Mind” which harks back to early eighties. The lyrics stand out as usual, Patti Smithesque, “come on move where dreams increase, where every man is masterpiece”.
Cartwheels, written for her daughter, Jesse, is stringing guitars into curly loops with Patti using her deep vocals. It’s simple, personal and affective, which would have banal for other singers: ““the good world, the good world, come my one, look around you”.
Notable tracks include the opening “Jubilee” which, like “One Voice” in her previous album, proclaims her loyalty to original American values – a nation born out of protecting human rights and civil liberties. No one comes close to touching her in being American.
“Ghandi” mythologizes the great humanitarian as a gentle man who is afraid of the dark when he was a young boy. He is portrayed as someone possessing inexorable powers and might who can arouse people into goodwill actions. Patti puts on her nasal accent; and for 9 minutes, relive the spirit of the dead. This is the best Patti performance poetry that we can witness on this record. When she goes “And the people cried, (alternate between soft and loud calls of ) ghandi”, we feel the strength of her anger.
“Radio Baghdad”, a 12 minute rant against the brutal American invasion of Iraq is her speaking/yelling/ singing through the zombie ghosts of Allen Ginsberg and Blake. The prog rock whiny and tweaking guitars, accompanied by hard heavy drums, is undoubtedly the only song in Trampin’ that would reveal its age, because of the timely and political lyrics. Think “Gungho” the last track in her previous album – “suffer not, your neighbour’s affliction… extend your hand, lest you vanish in the city”. She speaks of an Arabian world that is marked by progress – “all the things you knew, science, mathematics and thought, severely weakened, like irrigation systems… all the world revolved”. The injustice she felt was not solely derived from being an American, but her compassionate outlook for the entire human race.
Besides Ghandi, she quotes William as her obvious influence in “my blakean year”. Rebecca Weiner’s violin comes to the foreground as she lets herself restrain and loose by moving along to the temper of her verses. From being solidly steadfast “in my blakean year, temptation but a hiss” to nasal “toward a mission yet unclear, advancing pole by pole, fortune breathed into my ear, mouthed a simple ode, one road is paved in gold, one road is just a road”, it charts the human’s sturdy determination to overcome all odds from feeling pain to overcoming suffering.
“Cash” and “Peaceable Kingdom” are the weaker tracks that run back to back. Ironically, the former is not about materialistic greed; but the passing of time, “Its only life, that you are cashing in”. The latter conjures up pre gothic biblical imageries of a land where “lions and lambs shall abide” – possibly a metaphor of strong nation versus the poorer ones; though they lull and drag the momentum and energy of Trampin’ after a forceful blast of “my blakean year”. Both tracks could have been radio rock singles taken from any seventies adult rock album.
Patti’s breakthrough is the randy newsmanesque piano track “Trampin” which is also album title. Perhaps to mimick the great American singer songwriter, her simple lyrics betray the bluesy influence and roots of early black American music.
Trampin’ would have been a mediocre album if it was released by some unknown act but Patti is not a nobody. She is rock’s high priestess and for that, we worship the timelessness of Trampin’. Is it pretentiousness on my part to rate it highly? Not unjustified. Yes, it might have been made at any time. However, all this is secondary because we know Trampin’ contributes to her canon of works. It is timeless and withstands times.
Trampin’
Reviewed by Charles Tan
What’s this thing online about Patti Smith being a pretentious bitch? Well, Lester Bangs did mention that when he was alive and reviewing a Patti Smith album. See, the thing with listening to an album is that you are never sure if the musician is pretending or not. We can only “review” an album based on what is being produced and take it at face value. And what is pretentious about Patti Smith? Frankly speaking, I don’t care a hood as long as she writes good music.
Trampin’ is the kind of album that you can play back decades later and it would never have mattered if you knew when it was made or released, because it is not the kind of contemporary rock album that has a time imprint on it. For all we know, it sounds like it was written in the seventies with tracks such as Mother Rose which is a melodic rock ballad with Patti at her easiest to sing along. Yet, it is sheer poetry, a wistful paean, a cry to the nurturing mother rose symbolizing a ray of hope amidst the pessimistic night. Then there are the mid tempo guzzling rock tracks like “Stride of the Mind” which harks back to early eighties. The lyrics stand out as usual, Patti Smithesque, “come on move where dreams increase, where every man is masterpiece”.
Cartwheels, written for her daughter, Jesse, is stringing guitars into curly loops with Patti using her deep vocals. It’s simple, personal and affective, which would have banal for other singers: ““the good world, the good world, come my one, look around you”.
Notable tracks include the opening “Jubilee” which, like “One Voice” in her previous album, proclaims her loyalty to original American values – a nation born out of protecting human rights and civil liberties. No one comes close to touching her in being American.
“Ghandi” mythologizes the great humanitarian as a gentle man who is afraid of the dark when he was a young boy. He is portrayed as someone possessing inexorable powers and might who can arouse people into goodwill actions. Patti puts on her nasal accent; and for 9 minutes, relive the spirit of the dead. This is the best Patti performance poetry that we can witness on this record. When she goes “And the people cried, (alternate between soft and loud calls of ) ghandi”, we feel the strength of her anger.
“Radio Baghdad”, a 12 minute rant against the brutal American invasion of Iraq is her speaking/yelling/ singing through the zombie ghosts of Allen Ginsberg and Blake. The prog rock whiny and tweaking guitars, accompanied by hard heavy drums, is undoubtedly the only song in Trampin’ that would reveal its age, because of the timely and political lyrics. Think “Gungho” the last track in her previous album – “suffer not, your neighbour’s affliction… extend your hand, lest you vanish in the city”. She speaks of an Arabian world that is marked by progress – “all the things you knew, science, mathematics and thought, severely weakened, like irrigation systems… all the world revolved”. The injustice she felt was not solely derived from being an American, but her compassionate outlook for the entire human race.
Besides Ghandi, she quotes William as her obvious influence in “my blakean year”. Rebecca Weiner’s violin comes to the foreground as she lets herself restrain and loose by moving along to the temper of her verses. From being solidly steadfast “in my blakean year, temptation but a hiss” to nasal “toward a mission yet unclear, advancing pole by pole, fortune breathed into my ear, mouthed a simple ode, one road is paved in gold, one road is just a road”, it charts the human’s sturdy determination to overcome all odds from feeling pain to overcoming suffering.
“Cash” and “Peaceable Kingdom” are the weaker tracks that run back to back. Ironically, the former is not about materialistic greed; but the passing of time, “Its only life, that you are cashing in”. The latter conjures up pre gothic biblical imageries of a land where “lions and lambs shall abide” – possibly a metaphor of strong nation versus the poorer ones; though they lull and drag the momentum and energy of Trampin’ after a forceful blast of “my blakean year”. Both tracks could have been radio rock singles taken from any seventies adult rock album.
Patti’s breakthrough is the randy newsmanesque piano track “Trampin” which is also album title. Perhaps to mimick the great American singer songwriter, her simple lyrics betray the bluesy influence and roots of early black American music.
Trampin’ would have been a mediocre album if it was released by some unknown act but Patti is not a nobody. She is rock’s high priestess and for that, we worship the timelessness of Trampin’. Is it pretentiousness on my part to rate it highly? Not unjustified. Yes, it might have been made at any time. However, all this is secondary because we know Trampin’ contributes to her canon of works. It is timeless and withstands times.
