The Scratched Record: Peace and Noise
From the cover (where she appears, a beautiful and free woman who writes) and the title (which suggests what we are about to experience), to the latest claims of the band: "Don't be led away", this album is pure fiber, meat, muscle. The wrapping does not fit here, the cooking. This must be eaten like this, raw, whether you like the taste or not. Blame it not on Patti Smith. She gives you the world as it is; If you find it ugly, then look, it is what it is; do not look any further; this is the only thing: “the beat of your feet hammering the earth where the great ones tremble”. How great about this girl, my God!
I met her through a CD (which I have just thrown away because no reader admits it anymore) that had a small compilation of her songs. The first one that came out was Dancing Barefoot, and from there you learned the swing that this witch had. My favorite cut of that broth was 1959. I understood very little, and I remember that the idea crossed my mind that something had to do with Cuba, with that unhealthy habit that led us to believe that everything revolves around us. But the sensuality of the simple rock and roll that I listened to hooked me right away. Later, when I had the entire discography, the first thing I did was look for the album that contained the song, and that is why we are here today, but I absolutely like all of their albums. There is no other like Patti Smith.
The CD also had a version of Gimme Shelter and another of Sweet Jane, this one in duet with Leonard Cohen. It was the first time I listened to both songs, which have been covered a thousand times, but in the place of my brain that is not reason, these are still the originals, and not those of The Rolling Stones and Lou Reed, respectively.
History. Playing character one afternoon at the Feu's house, I put Patti Smith in one of my roles. Among the participants there was a girl who was my size; The kind that served me perfectly, without hems or anything. I didn't know her; I had my eye on her before she joined my picket to play, but I don't know what the link was. The game starts. She is on the opposite team, sitting on the floor. The paper comes out. The boy who is staging has no idea. There is talk of a common surname, of Pérez del yuma, of Patti La Belle, until she extends her right hand, energetic, claiming the paper, finally guessing what was written there.
The thing was dear. In my head, in the second that passed before I opened my mouth, several things happened: first the trumpets sounded and the cavalry came out; then I imagined the next lockdown, which would take place when the character game ended; Then I was worried that I didn't have condoms in my wallet; and finally I was distraught thinking that she might want a serious relationship and I was not looking for anything for that rope. I narrowed my eyes, made a man's voice, tilted my head a little to my right and at the same time made an affirmative gesture with her, anticipating the girl's answer to my question: Do you like Patti Smith? She said no, she didn't know who she was, that the name was familiar to her from somewhere. I didn't kick anyone that afternoon, but not because she didn't know Patti Smith, it's that I never kicked anyone, at least out of my head.
Carlos M. Mérida
Oidor. Coleccionista sin espacio. Leguleyo. Temeroso de las abejas y de los vientos huracanados.