Rating: NNNN
There’s not much on proto-punk legend Patti Smith’s 11th album, Banga, that would have sounded out of place back when she first started blowing minds in the 1970s. In fact, it was recorded in the same studio with most of the same personnel as her 1975 debut, Horses. You don’t get the sense that Smith is trying to recreate the youthful urgency of that landmark album, though. Instead, she gives off the cool confidence of an artist who’s made such a strong impact on the culture over her lifetime that she has nothing to prove to anyone but herself.
Smith has said in interviews that the subject matter here is split between personal portraits and ruminations on the environment, but she approaches both with such subtlety and poetry, you don’t feel you’re being lectured to. In fact, I wish I hadn’t found out which songs were about Johnny Depp or Amy Winehouse, since both are much more enjoyable when you’re not tempted to analyze every line from that perspective. Better to sit back and enjoy how her voice still walks that thrilling line between raw, visceral power and vulnerability.
Top track: Fuji-san
