We Need Patti Smith to Feel Everything And Define Nothing

Did Patti Smith embody that which Patti denied? Did denial of definition change and inspire? Can we experience music differently and feel everything? Do some moments defy definition? If we are talking about Patti Smith and a young woman named Jenny it is complicated and beautiful.

When I read about Patti Smith I am told that she is the Godmother of Punk and created the first punk album in 1975 with her debut album Horses. Others will tell you that Patti Smith is an activist and a fringe feminist. The list goes on.

Patti Smith has said she is not punk. Smith has also denied being an activist, a musician, and a feminist.

The early days of Patti Smith had a signature look of black slacks, a white dress shirt, and a skinny black tie with a black jacket. Many thought this was a punk DIY look leaning into an androgynous statement. But this was not a look and it went beyond androgyny as it was known in the 1970’s. It was freeing oneself from every convention to embrace everything of self.

If you have seen Patti perform live or on video, you will recognize that Smith does not move in a masculine or feminine manner. The music itself is not punk in that it does not fully fit into a genre other than Patti Smith. It is somewhere between melodic and spoken word that is always lyrically brilliant. To interpret and move the meaning to the audience Smith will use whatever means necessary for you to feel the message. Guttural noises, spoken word, harmonic melodies, dueling drums in tension with guitars, and more. Every tool is at Smith’s disposal and used masterfully.

Patti Smith is a poet, painter, photographer, activist, musician, author, and a woman who has broken boundaries. But Patti Smith is also not any of these things according to Smith. While we seek definitions for everything we experience, rare people like Patti defy them and embody them all at once. While we seek categories and definitions Patti has given some self definition that gets lost in the denial of what Patti is not.

Patti is an artist, a worker, and a mother. This is what Patti has said about self.

As a parent of a genderqueer adult child I have learned to allow others to define themselves and respect that. If I am being honest I struggled with writing about Patti Smith under the banner of Fem Friday. I did it with the utmost respect using Smith’s identification of being a mother. Should Patti Smith by some unlikely turn of events read this article, I hope to be forgiven for my hubris.

This is not the normal focus on a celebrity that we do, especially in Fem Friday. If you don’t know the music and art of Patti Smith I encourage you to discover her music online wherever you go to discover music. And for the facts and figures, start with the Wikipedia page about Patti and then go down the rabbit hole to feed your head.

The Smiths, Madonna, REM, Sonic Youth, Lorde and many others will cite Patti Smith as one of their primary influences. The punk movement, many Riot Grrrls, feminists, poets and on and on will claim Patti Smith as an influence. An inspiration, a muse, and an example does not have to be the thing you identify as for you to explore your own depth more richly.

I know a young non binary person who saw a 1976 performance of Patti Smith on Saturday Night Live that changed the young person’s life. Patti does not identify as non binary or use they them pronouns, but in that moment, a young person who was struggling to put words and expression to what they were had a veil lifted in a moment of discovery.

In their own words they recently told me, “When I saw Patti Smith on the old SNL video something inside me found words for what I was experiencing but didn’t have language for because of my family’s Catholicism. I’m not man or woman but I’m also both and something else. I’m none and all and though I can’t explain it to you, I know it and I am.”

Smith doesn’t have to be non binary to inspire one who is.

Neither does Smith have to be punk to forge and inspire a genre and a movement.

An activist can listen to what Patti has to say and sing about the ecology and human rights (‘After the Gold Rush’ and ‘People Have the Power’) to become an activist on the front lines of environmentalism or the various expressions of defending and advancing any one of or combination of the 30 human rights we have.

Often at Gen X Watch, all the writers share a frustration with people of our generation who shit on younger generations. Patti Smith is a Baby Boomer and has recently made headlines standing with Greta Thunberg and taking delight in being recognized in Taylor Swift’s latest album which we recently reviewed.

Patti Smith is a revered icon that for many is larger than life. And yet Patti will celebrate the leadership of Thunberg and express genuine humble gratitude to be recognized with Bob Dylan in the same lyric of a song by Swift.

This is one of the core values of Gen X Watch as we take lumps undermining keyboard courage and allowing ourselves to be challenged and inspired by the younger generations that have as much to teach us as we can them. It is cross pollination of beauty and respect as we jam through life together.

As a photographer I discovered feeling the camera and the moment. Since I was 13 and held my Pentax K-1000 in my hands, I felt something I can not explain and still feel it. I am present in a different way and hyper aware. I’m able to let go of the things I need to be freed from and am able to anticipate, connect to, and feel everything I need to anticipate, connect to, and feel.

Patti Smith’s music with the guidance of a young model that was deaf was where I first learned to feel music in a different way. Anyone who knows me knows that music is almost always with me. In my car, at work, and at home it is always there. Sometimes I sing along, or I dance or a move my body, or close my eyes. It will relax me, inspire me, anger me, motivate me and allow me to feel.

But there is another way I feel music that is intimate and has inspired all that I do with music, photography, art, and poetry now. I use all my senses and none of them.

To be able to explain this more, we need to go back in time to the Summer of 1988.

On a Tuesday I went to Record Town in the mall I had a job in. It was my day off, but there were new releases for me to explore at the record store that my friend Doug worked at. I was looking at cassettes trying to figure out which one would get played on my way home in my Monte Carlo. While I was holding two cassettes in my hands trying to figure out which one I was buying I felt a tap on my shoulder that startled me a little. I turned around and saw Jenny smiling at me. She was with 2 other aspiring models that worked in the mall that I recently introduced her to.

Jenny had profound hearing loss. We had been introduced to each other shortly before this day by a working model I knew named Norah. Norah knew I could sign and was hoping I could help Jenny get a good portfolio for Norah’s agent. I had done a wonderful photo session with Jenny that turned out better than I could have hoped for. In a few days we were going to meet with Norah and her agent in Chicago. You can read more about it in last week’s Fem Friday, “Escaping Life Under the Shadow of Brooke Shields.”

Jenny grinned broadly at me with a cheesy grin and waved at me less than a foot from me. Her red hear was curled and her brown eyes lit up. She then hugged me and then signed, “Hi! How are you?”

She was wearing her hearing aids, but she preferred to sign. I put down my cassettes and signed back, “I’m great. It’s so good to see you!”

“What are you up to?” she asked.

“Just looking at records and hanging out. ” I replied.

“Are you working today?” she asked. I told her no. I am not sure how long we were talking to each other but her friends were looking like they were ready to continue mall walking instead of watching our silent conversation. We both picked up on it. She looked at the girls and spoke aloud.

“Is it okay if I hang out with Pat.”

They smiled and chuckled. One of them looked at me and said with a smile and faux suspicion, “Jenny rode here with me. Can you get her home, stud muffin?”

I blushed a little. “Yeah, I got her, Cindy.”

Cindy looked at me for a moment, winked, and said, “Have fun!” Then she looked at Jenny and said the same thing and hugged her goodbye. Jenny looked at me with that same deliberate cheesy grin again and signed, “Yay!”

Jenny gestured me away from the cassettes and to the new release albums. She grabbed an album and held up to me with a delighted smile. It was Patti Smith. Patti Smith? She hadn’t had an album out since the 70’s! But the album cover was definitely Patti Smith. A little older.

Patti Smith was familiar to me from my childhood. My mom had 2 of her records next to her Tom Waites albums when I was little. And in my exploration of punk music I knew her in a different context.

“She’s back?” I asked.

Jenny nodded.

“You like her?”

Jenny nodded.

“You listen to music?” I asked.

Jenny nodded.

Then with one hand she said, “Asshole.” She rolled her eyes but was still smiling.

“I’m sorry,” I replied. “That was a dumb thing to ask.”

“Buy me fries and I’ll forgive you.”

We went over to Doug. I introduced him to Jenny as she bought the Patti Smith record. We then went to Arby’s in the food court and had fries and cokes and talked about anything and nothing. Then I asked her what she wanted to do next.

“Want to take me home and I can show you how I listen to music?”

The way she signed it and her body language suggested that this was something that was important to her. I told her I would love to and we left the mall and went to my Monte Carlo parked outside by the upper level of Sears.

We pulled up to her house. It was a larger 2 story home near the mall in North Aurora. The only car in the driveway was was her rusty Mustang. I asked her if anyone was home. She said that no one would be home for a few more hours. We were Gen X teenagers, this was our default as the latch key generation.

We went inside. She asked me if I wanted something to drink. I said yes and followed her into the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and held up 2 cans of Dr Pepper and made a face looking for approval. I signed yes. She handed me both cans and grabbed 2 glasses as she gestured for me to follow her upstairs.

Her bedroom was small and very ‘girly’. She had a twin day bed against a wall and a dressing table with a mirror and a white dresser. Everything was white and pink with one item that stood out. Her large black stereo cabinet with tower speakers and what looked like a piece of imitation wood paneling cut into a rectangle that stretched across both speakers on the floor.

Jenny gestured for me to sit down on her bed as she put the new record by the stereo and went into the top drawer of her dresser where she had a small bottle of rum hidden away. She poured the Dr Pepper into both glasses along with a healthy pour of rum in each glass. She handed me a glass and sat next to me on the bed. Our bodies gently touched from the closeness and I felt my heart race as she gestured for us to toast and clink our glasses together.

As we drank our rum and Dr Pepper she told me that she loved music and there were two ways she listened to it. Sometimes it was with her hearing aids on and other times it was feeling it. She told me her favorite music and it was diverse. Classical, punk, rock, pop and many eras. The common bond I noticed was strong beats and base. She asked me about my faves.

When our glasses were empty she poured more rum into them and we downed them fast. I could already feel a buzz starting as she asked me if I was ready to experience music her way. I said yes. She put a hand on my thigh and with the other touched my cheek and then signed, “Thank you.” I melted.

She removed her shoes and socks and told me to do the same. I did. She then grabbed a small bag of balloons and pulled a red one out, smiled at me, and blew it up. She put the new Patti Smith album, “Dream of Life” on the turn table and positioned me to stand on the paneling. I faced her and we gently held the balloon between us.

As ‘People Have the Power’ started playing I could feel the vibration of the drums in my feet and the balloon’s thin membrane conducted not just the base, but the mid and high tones vibrated. And as Patti Smith’s familiar voice filled my ears I could feel her voice in my fingertips and my feet differently than the instruments.

This was nothing like anything I had felt. This was different than being close to the speakers at a concert. You could feel the music, but it did not overpower you and it allowed me to feel the nuance.

Jenny’s hearing aids were not in. She was not listening to the music, she was feeling it. Jenny was not hearing Patti Smiths lyrics, but she was feeling her words and I could see it all over her face as she was transfixed. I could not unhear the music, but I learned quickly that I could let what I could hear be the background to what I could feel in my feet and my hands. When I did that, it was more than just my appendages.

My feet and my hands were connected to my body and all of me started feeling the music in a way I had never experienced music before. The entire time her eyes were locked on mine and that was powerful and intimate as well. We were experiencing the music together in an intense manner that was tangible as our eyed connected and the balloon that allowed my body to feel Patti Smith did the same for Jenny. That was almost tantric. And when I was feeling the music and each other she could sense it. She smiled warmly and nodded her head. It was then that I realized we were both swaying to the music in synchronous motions.

This was the most beautiful music had ever felt and this moment was more intimate than anything I had shared with anyone.

The first side was half done when I finally hit this point of immersion and connection that I had never felt from music or with another person.

I was present and I felt it and just allowed it. Every song felt different and the connection to the music and her just became more powerful and permeated me in a way I had never felt.

The first side ended and the record needle moved back to its cradle. We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. I was about to speak and she leaned forward to kiss me. It started as a few gentle brushes and then it was full and passionate. Her mouth was like embers and my whole body was swimming with sensations I had never felt.

And then came the fear as I pulled back.

I felt the red balloon brush against my bare feet as it fell to the floor gently. Jenny cocked her head a little to the side as she looked at me.

“What is this? What are we doing?” I asked.

She moved closer with a small grin and signed back, “This is now. This is us. It is nothing and everything. This is without tomorrow or yesterday or promises. Feel everything. Define nothing.”

I moved closer to her and our lips met again as our bodies pressed together. The fear and the definitions were gone. I felt her, me, and the moment. I felt everything beyond definition.

Dedicated to Erika

Every Feminist Friday is Dedicated to my friend Erika!

Erika died on Christmas leaving behind a family that has immediate needs.

Click here to read the story of how Erika saved my life when we were teenagers.

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