25 musicians on the impact of Patti Smith’s ‘Horses’

“Sometimes listening to music as an artist and taking influence from those around you can feel like hitting an invisible ceiling with boundaries and trespass signs that keep you confined to certain sounds, textures, tones and melodies. Patti Smith made me realise that those limits exist only in my imagination.

She’s inspired me not only lyrically and melodically, but also in how I approach the performance side of things, showing me that it doesn’t need to be contrived or shaped to look and feel like everyone else’s and feeling embarrassed is okay, in fact, more times than not even more liberating. I’m constantly moved by her cadence and intonation that help deliver stories that may have been told a million times, yet somehow make each one feel like it’s being told for the very first time. I wouldn’t be the songwriter and artist I am today without Horses, and I’m forever grateful it found me when I was first grappling with the idea of writing and performing music, I know everything would look and sound very different if it hadn’t.”

“Patti is a wordsmith and that’s what inspires me about her most. She fuses poetry and rock, and reminds us as artists that raw emotion and fearless honesty can be just as powerful as a roaring melody. In fact, it makes it all the more rock n roll. Her book M Train is one of my all time favourites.”

Ella Oona Russell: I don’t even know what to say about her, or that album, or what that’s meant to me. I actually don’t know what to say. That’s a very big one. She’s kind of like a Saint figure, I think, for a lot of people. [She’s] really inspired and given confidence to a lot of people to write and make sounds and, just pick something up and give it a go. It really feels like she’s some kind of guardian or something. She’s still here, around, taking care of people.”

Nina Winder-Lind: “Yeah, she really is. It’s kind of why I came to Brighton and why I met you guys (The New Eves) because Patti Smith. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for that, and it sounds really big but it’s true. You know she’s just like, ‘Stick to your vision, trust your vision, trust your gut. Don’t let anyone fuck you around’, but in a nice way. She’s just… she’s got it.”

“When I first heard Horses, I felt more troubled than I ever had by hearing a woman sing and play. But that sense of feeling troubled and uncomfortable dovetailed with a sense of deep respect for someone so brave. And her wildness represented to me a shamanic ability to plunge into the depths that as a woman, I had been told I couldn’t express in such an unruly and raw way. She opened the gate for me to walk along that edge a bit more.”

“When I was fourteen, I first listened to Horses. The music was simple, looping, but so emotionally powerful and transformative. My favourite song was ‘Birdland’. Through listening to Patti, reading her words and watching her speak, I was learning a lesson that, as I get older, I hold closer and closer to me: creativity is not otherworldly or out of reach.

Patti’s great strength is her humanity, how deeply she allows herself to feel, and her view of music as a bridge between herself and others. As an artist, she shows us we can all be as brave, as liberated, as undefined, as complicated, if we just let ourselves be.”

“Her ability to seamlessly blend the precision of her poetry with the raw, untameable nature of her delivery on Horses and in her live shows is unparalleled. There’s something so genderless and free about her and she has this way of grabbing you by the guts but still maintaining a deep gentleness. There’s no pretensions with her – she’s always being and bringing her fullest truth in a way that any punk band worth their salt should dream of doing too.

It’s not that you want to be her exactly (although I would be in a heartbeat if given the option) but she inspires you to want to be as much yourself as she is herself. She has maintained that untamed truth all the way into her age too. She’s art goals, gender goals, poetry goals and all round life goals to be honest. Long live the godmother of punk!”

“When I think of Patti, I think of Just Kids, Horses and ‘Jesus died for somebody’s sins – but not mine’.

To me it makes more sense to talk about Patti alongside beat poets like Ginsberg and Kerouac, rather than other ‘rockstars’ of the mid-70s. Maybe that’s why Horses still sounds so radical today – she was never playing by our rules. Like all great artists, and all great albums, Patti and Horses stands up to study. With Horses, she gave us an electrifying sonic location, to be revisited over and over, with new insights and wonders revealing themselves as we grow and change and experience.”

“When I first read Just Kids, it was after finishing my undergrad degree in Drama and Theatre Arts. I remember at the time feeling excited for my future, yet dissatisfied that I was disconnected from music and unsure if I even wanted to pursue drama. I was watching my friends play The Windmill or The George Tavern and simply yearned to be brave enough to write songs and play on those stages.

“I was no actress; I drew no line between life and art. I was the same on- as offstage.” (p.186)

Reading Just Kids was a huge reassurance that possessing creativity and sensitivity grants you permission to pursue music (or any creative practice). Just Kids is my bible of creative reassurance. Patti’s retelling of her moments of understanding art helped me find my own skin as a musician.

“‘What if I mess it up? What if I screw up the rhythm?’
‘You can’t,’ he said. ‘It’s like drumming. If you miss a beat, you create another.’” (p.185)

To this day, I have flashbacks to Just Kids moments such as her and Jimi Hendrix bonding over being wallflowers, Patti seeing Bob Dylan walk into the venue to watch her perform live, and the line about Robert Mapplethorpe that always breaks my heart: “He was carrying death within him and I was carrying life.” (p.271)

Since my first read of Just Kids, I have my teeth very much stuck into music with no plans to derail my passion. I do believe I am due a re-read of Just Kids, Patti Smith will always have something to teach me.”

“It’s hard to deny Patti Smith’s influence. She bridged the gap between folk and punk so masterfully and is just such an important figure from the CBGB’s era.

When I was 17, I went to a Patti Smith Horses anniversary show at the Melbourne Town hall and it has to be one of my favourite shows ever. Seeing artists like Courtney Barnett, Adalita, and Gareth Liddiard performing the songs was very inspiring and really showed me her broad reach of influence – particularly on a lot of the Aussie artists I grew up listening to.”

“Jesus died for somebody’s sins, but not mine’ – possibly one of the best opening lines to an album. A line that I first read in Patti Smith’s book Just Kids, a present from a second cousin one Christmas that lead me to the album that is Horses.

An unconforming outburst of pure expression, to the 9 minute beautiful world created and dashed in ‘Birdland’, to the tough seductress of ‘Gloria’. Versions of herself that never seemed at odds with each other. I carry this album with me whilst navigating my own music career, every listen is like a new lesson to learn. Thank you Patti.”

“Art without vanity is something I’ve always struggled to take my eyes off of, funnily. Don’t bleed – vomit. Don’t pray – plead. Don’t cry – be enigmatic.

Patti’s Horses really erased the lines between holiness, beauty and filth. I got into Horses at such a pivotal time in my life through studying photography. I was shattered by the striking eras of Horses, Mapplethorpe, Warhol and the Velvets all at once and it was quite hard to be interested in absolutely anything else for a while. Horses just brought me so much liberation and the confidence to discover. True freedom. I think my friends at school didn’t recognise me anymore in some way, it changed me so much. It goes to places where people aren’t entirely comfortable going. It altered my everything.”

“I became a true admirer of Patti Smith after reading Just Kids. It changed the way I listened to her music, and ‘Elegie’, the closing track on Horses, hit me even harder! The haunting piano, the eerie, whale-like guitar sounds in the intro, the way her voice, the bass and the piano all seem to shadow each other. To me, it’s one of the most beautiful requiems in pop music.

But what inspires me most as an artist is the way she speaks about her love for others and how she allows herself to be shaped by different artists and art forms. She shows that creativity isn’t about the myth of the isolated genius, but about being open, generous, and deeply connected to other people and art. To me, that’s the true mark of a creative genius.”

“Where to start? Patti Smith has been, and continues to be, nothing but a relentless role model.

Her wisdom and understanding of the world and its sadness and its beauty and queerness and hope, and the way she exists in that very world. Unapologetic and beautiful and truly her own self. So human and bold and brave and honest. I don’t know if people realise what a huge influence she’s been on modern music. So many artists just wouldn’t sound they way they do without Patti Smith.”

“We both read Just Kids by Patti Smith around the time that we moved to London and started the band.

It was a huge inspiration to us on the importance of creative relationships for navigating the uncertainties of life as young musicians. It proved that creativity thrives not in isolation, but in meaningful connection with others who inspire and challenge you! We’ve also been hugely inspired by her lyrics, the way she’s never let others put her in a box and her use of her voice in activism.”

“I knew Patti Smith, but I remember well the moment I fell in love with her. She was supporting Nick Cave in London, and the power and vitality that she delivered the music blew me away. It was hypnotic and repetitive in every way I love, with her acting as this powerful shamanic witch MC, summoning and rousing and guiding us all through it.

I was in awe, transfixed and inspired. I had to fight the urge to run out of the show, to try and write something that captured that same brooding slow building ecstasy!”

“Surely Patti Smith has to be the coolest lady to have ever walked this earth?!

Every time I need references for a photoshoot there’s a photo of Patti Smith in there. She has this way of being able to embrace power and vulnerability at the same time. There’s a quote of hers which I try to live by; ‘I’m going to promote myself exactly as I am, with all my weak points and my strong ones. My weak points are that I’m self-conscious and often insecure, and my strong point is that I don’t feel any shame about it.’

She’s taught us all to embrace authenticity, which is so important for young women these days – teaching us not to conform to social norms and instead be true to who we are. Whenever I need inspiration I find myself watching interviews with her talking about breaking through walls and not knowing how to play guitar, just doing it. She helps me understand what it means to be an artist, and realise that I don’t have to be perfect.”

“When I think about 1975, I think about a period of unbridled creativity, whether that is manifested in the classic films of the New Hollywood era, bands like Steely Dan, who epitomised the idea of sleek, glossy recordings or artists like Patti Smith who exemplified the rawest, purest presentation of her poetry in her album Horses.

The fact that there was an artistic ecosystem that allowed all of these things to exist at the same time and not only complement, but supplement each other in their juxtaposition is the ultimate representation of what I love about this era and about this album in particular.

From a track like ‘Redondo Beach’ that falls into one of my favourite musical genres – tropical-tinged, syncopated ’70s rock. to the haunting dream-like mood of ‘Birdland’ that feels more like spoken word set to music than song, Patti Smith is a woman not waiting to be given permission, but rather taking ownership of her art the way she envisioned it, not to meet some unrealistic, idealistic standard set by a male-dominated society for her and women everywhere. Patti Smith paved the way for female artists like myself to sound and look the way we want to without censoring our voices, and I am so grateful to her and all the powerful women before me for breaking through those barriers.”

“Patti made me realise I shouldn’t have to give up parts of who I am in order to do my work. That I could be a musician, a writer, that I can become a mother and have children, that I can grow old and my hair turn grey. I had not met anyone who showed me that path until her.

I respect her for showing me what it looks like to live. I’m very grateful for her support, even before I started my band. I remember one time she called me up before her show in London and we talked for a bit. She carries such care in everything she does. She’s tough, sincere, and she works hard. I don’t like to measure my work by what others think, but as an artist you have a few friends and a select few people’s opinions you value. Patti is one of them. If she connects with what I’m doing, that’s something to me.

Horses is a great record through and through. The first time I heard it was seeing her perform it live. There’s a directness in how she connects with people on stage. ‘Birdland’ is so luminous, lyrical. What she did, bringing poetry into rock in her way, made so many of us, many generations want to read more, write more, create and feel more. And she still speaks up, still shows us what it means to stay true. That record opened something for me, showing a way into music I hadn’t seen before, and it still carries the care and integrity she brings to everything she does.”

“’We were at once dogs and gods’ struck me. Incidentally I had a song named ‘Dark Dog’ and also a song called ‘Playing God’ on the EP tracklist – so there it was”

“When I first heard Horses, aged 15, I didn’t understand it, but I liked that I didn’t – I knew I was meant to keep listening.

Over time it has become one of my favourite records – poetry meets rock and roll – the artistic spirit comes to life every time the needle drops. I’ve been lucky enough to have seen the Patti Smith group live ten times over the last thirty years and each concert has been revelation. You leave feeling elated and inspired, by the power of art, and the potential and possibilities of people working together.”

“I was first struck by the black and white photos of this striking, disarming woman. I read Just Kids when I was 17, just a bit younger than the Patti she wrote about. This effortlessly cool woman full of literature and independence oozed from the page, navigating the male dominated New York arts scene with a firm combination of guts & elegance.

Then I listened to Horses and for the first time heard a voice that tears through songs. With lyrics that dance between the frank and the surreal – lyrics that make you dream and lyrics that make you confront and lose yourself all at once. So I thought, I’d like to be like Patti – I’ll take a leaf from her book.”

“I first encountered Patti Smith at Max’s on Park Avenue in the fall of ‘69. She burst into the bar around midnight with a dead crow sewn into the lining of her lapel, accompanied by Sam Shepard, who had a coyote on a leash.

Within minutes, she had challenged Lou Reed to a pistol duel, disturbed Allen Ginsberg’s meditative state with a swift kick to the back of the skull, and pinned Robert Rauschenberg to a cubical door in the men’s room, reciting Blake and intermittently spitting on the floor.

There and then I fell in love.

Between that time and the release of the first record, I was fortunate enough to witness her use my blood to write an early draft of Kimberly on the wall of Warhol’s room at The Chelsea.

Horses is, of course, a masterwork, which positioned Patti not only as Lou’s worthy opponent in the upper echelons of New York’s literary rock and roll scene, but also proved that she was every bit the poet Ginsberg was, and Blake for that matter, and a better guitar player than all three.”

“I listened to a few Patti songs, and I liked them but I never fully sat down and listened to one of her albums back to back. The first Patti album I listened to was Horses, and it absolutely blew me away. I already knew ‘Gloria: In Excelsis Deo’ and it was literally unlike any other cover I’d heard before. I work in a pool hall, I remember putting it on and these group of guys came asking me What the hell was that song?!’ They didn’t think it was good or bad, I think they were just confused on how a song was able to sound like that.

That’s what it’s like listening to her. She is definitely one of my favourite lyricists, her ability to create a world in her songs is second to none. I saw her live in a big forest park on a sunny day in San Francisco, and her show was unbelievable. She talked about peace, poetry, and her incredibly eventful and amazing story. The fact it’s her debut is insane, and I find it so hard to compare it to any other debut album of its time.”

“I remember my dad bringing back this album on CD when I was maybe 13 or 14. I have a distinct memory of listening to it in the car whilst we parked in a shopping centre car park, and he told me who it was by. I think it percolated in my brain until I was about 24, and I was breaking up with my first really serious long-term boyfriend, and I read Just Kids. I read that book, and it was like this whole revelation to me as to what music and artistry and relationships meant. When I broke up with my then-boyfriend, I gave him my copy of that book with the important parts underlined because it was the impetus for our break-up. 

I often think of that iconic album cover shot by Mapplethorpe, of Patti leaning against the white wall, jacket over the shoulder. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted to be as an artist. Every time I’ve worn a suit on stage (which is often) I think of Patti. She’s just so cool and androgynous and singular and self-assured. My favourite track from the record, ‘Gloria’, I think is an exercise in joy. It just grows and grows and rises. It makes me feel like I’m running and running, specifically in one place, hopping from one foot to another during a party surrounded by my friends and screaming the lyrics into each other’s faces and dancing and being absorbed in the rhythm.

I hope I have Patti’s resilience and artistry somewhere inside me. I know that her influence on my own music has been there since day 1, more as something buried underneath than something I specifically refer back to. I think it takes a specific kind of icon to have that impact.”

“Glastonbury 2015 myself and my girlfriend were backstage at the Pyramid stage just as Patti Smith bought the Dalai Lama on stage and sang him ‘Happy Birthday’ in front of an audience of a hundred thousand revellers.

As they came off stage, they warmly waved us over and Patti handed me, my girlfriend and the Dalai Lama a huge piece of iced fruit cake. We stood around talking, smiling and enjoying the cake and just when the situation couldn’t get anymore surreal, Patti and the Dalai Lama started discussing the t-shirt my girlfriend was wearing, which was actually one of my own rather salacious merchandise t-shirts (featuring another friend of mine posing somewhat provocatively) – both Patti and his excellency agreed; she was a very beautiful young woman and what a fine t-shirt it was.

My fascination and with Patti has been longstanding, and her inspiration a constant North star throughout my career. The cover of my first album Out Of Work Astronaut is a direct homage to her Horses album cover.

I painstakingly replicated every last detail, the outfit, the pose, (an attempt at her sublime insouciance and attitude), the same model and make of camera and the specific type of film stock, even matching the time of day it was taken. The photo was brilliantly and patiently shot by the legendary photographer Dean Chalkley. I am still immensely proud of that album cover homage and consider it a kind of votive offering.

My recently published novel A Muse has a pivotal scene soundtracked by her album Horses A scene (fictionalised from real life events) where I am laying on a rug, somewhat delirious in vast gothic Church on the moors of Yorkshire that I had moved to in order to try and write an album… I was blasting Horses on two huge speakers either side of the altar and feeling like I may have made a series of strange decisions when a fateful message arrived inviting me to join a rock and roll tour of Europe with two mysterious and infamous American musicians.

I still recall those rapturous horses galloping and echoing through the vaulted stone cloisters of the church as Patti’s voice was incanting the mythical adventures of ‘the boy Johnny’ as I fatefully pressed reply on the email that would change the course of my life forever…