The Weekly Walk With Me

I was probably about 12 when I discovered Patti Smith via the Easter record. A lot of people will poo- poo this record because it was her most commercial thanks to 'Because the Night', which has a murky history all its own--written by Springsteen first, discarded and given to Patti, Patti rewrote it and recorded it first, then Springsteen would perform Patti's version for the rest of his career. But sometimes commercial is necessary.  If it hadn't been for Easter's success, it probably would've taken me much longer to hear it, see it, learn it, pick it apart.  And fall in love with Patti Smith.

Six Things I Love About Easter

6. The cover.  Here was this woman in a simple, almost bible-slave-ish muslin dress. Simple, effortless. Is she posing, or putting up her hair?  She's not pretty, doesn't seem to want to be, but the pose could be an attempt at sexy. But then there's the armpit hair.  For a 12 year old girl learning what girls are supposed to look like, begging her mother to shave, it should have been off-putting.  It wasn't.  It seemed completely normal and obvious, subtle.  And every female artist I've seen since then showing off her armpit hair always seems to be trying too hard to "shock" me.

5. The liner notes.  Photographs by Robert Mapplethorpe.  Yep, that one.  I would later learn that Patti and Robert were in fact lovers, but before I knew all that it was strictly the photographs.  There was no sheen, no sexuality. Just the opposite actually.  I was so confused by what this was. Here were these paragraphs of religious references and imagery paired with photos that invoked something sinister and offensive for some reason I couldn't quite figure.  I felt like I was doing something wrong by unfolding them, as this were a centerfold in the hands of a teenage boy. I had to hear this record because of those liner notes.

4. The reaction from my Dad.  Easter was released in 1978, and here I was 11 or so years later asking my father what he knew about the Patti Smith Group. The look on his face was sort of asking "who do I know with a Patti Smith record, where did she hear this?"  I will always be sure that I also saw a little bit of terror, but he was never one to censor music for me.  It was that look that told me this was something I should pursue. There were no used record stores then, and no internet, so I couldn't go out and scour the racks for more records.  I couldn't google and find out all there was to know about her, hear more of the catalogue, order it up with a push of a button.  So it took some effort to learn what I could and try to find more.  I probably haven't had to put that much effort into anything since.

3. Rock n Roll Nigger.  There is nothing I can say about this song that hasn't already been said.  It's been picked apart and analyzed.  The pros and cons broken down--more so in recent years than when it was released.  As a kid I was horrified.  Here were these words being spat out by a woman, words that I'd been taught shouldn't be said at all-by anyone.  It was angry and raw and guttural and masculine.  Is it racist?  I don't think so. But I'm white so maybe it's not for me to decide.  For the record, this song did not change my life the way most people will claim.  But it did make me think about words, and how to say them, and how to use them, and it validated how I thought about them in a way.

2. My copy cost $6.00.  I had to listen to the schmuck who sold it to me try his best to act like he knew all there was to know about the records in my stack.  He tried to sell me an old Time magazine because it had Bowie on the cover.  He explained what Instagram was as if I were mildly retarded because I told him I didn't use it. He smirked and asked "what was up" with me buying Easter and skipping over Horses.  And then had the nerve to ask if I knew what Horses was.  I wanted to walk away without giving him a dime of my money, but I gladly stole his near-mint copy with complete liner notes for $6.00.

1. My copy has this autograph.  I. Live...