Punk poetry and emotion

As rock legends age, they get more complacent, entering into a cosy collusion with their audience

As rock legends age, they get more complacent, entering into a cosy collusion with their audience. When Patti Smith played the Olympia last night, however, she didn't pander to the need for nostalgia - every time she gave the crowd a classic hit, she demanded something back in return.

At 52, Smith is not the angry, spitting young punk-viper she once was; but, though she may have mellowed out during the past twenty years, she is still coiled and ready to strike at the soft flesh of complacency. As she encored with Rock 'n' Roll Nigger, the lady harangued the crowd to get up off their asses, look alive and do something to change their world. The fans loved it, even those who hadn't bothered their asses to vote in the Euro elections.

The gig began gently enough, Smith slinking lithely around the stage, dressed in drainpipe jeans, loose shirt and a man's jacket, her hair tumbling lankly over her shoulders. Guitarist Lenny Kaye, drummer Jay Dee Daugherty, bassist Tony Shanahan and new guitarist Oliver Ray came on like a punk version of Crazy Horse, delivering stripped-down garbage-can riffs and thumping, street-corner beats, and lifting some songs aloft on a wave of sound, then sending them thundering towards their crashing conclusion. Dancing Barefoot built up to a frenzied, fire-walking climax, while Beneath The Southern Cross showed redemptive power through its damning lyrics.

"This place reminds me of the Grand Ol' Opry", Smith commented, before delivering a blank-generation take on Hank Williams's I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry.

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Ghost Dance was a strange brew of tribal dirge and protest song, while Don't Say Nothing saw Smith vowing to strip away the skin of silence and let her livid voice be heard. Her voice faltered a bit on Because The Night, but About A Boy was scarily purposeful, the band providing a rumbling, creaking galleon of sound to carry Smith's lyrics into the darkness.

Free Money packed a punch in the wallet, but People Have The Power didn't quite deliver the required fist-in-the-air force. Still, the crowd finally got up on its feet, breaking the venue's no-standing policy, so I guess there's still some rebellion left in us yet.

Kevin Courtney

Kevin Courtney

Kevin Courtney is an Irish Times journalist