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Twilight On The Pier

Patti Smith mesmerizes at a Santa Monica landmark event by Daiana Feuer

Down by the ocean, along with thousands of other people, I stood in shock on the Santa Monica Pier. We were all there on the 30th anniversary of Elvis Presley’s death with avant-guardian Patti Smith. Although the “Twilight Dance Series” has less to do with Elvis and more to do with a long tradition of annual summer concerts bringing music for free to Santa Monica — the fact that Patti Smith’s show happened to fall on the King of Rock’s death-day demanded a significance in that rock ‘n’ roll sort of way. She asked the crowd, “What would rock ‘n’ roll be without Elvis?” as a huge smile spread on her face.

Under a black suit coat, a loose T-shirt with a peace sign drawn on over her braless body, her jeans tucked into her boots — with a fist in one hand and a flower in the other, Patti Smith is no ordinary Dame (but what Dame is ordinary?). In the image she projects: punk and psychedelic mingled with feminine existential power, she is a poet, philosopher and quite sexy without being pretty at all. She is also full of good messages, like to make sure fiber is part of your diet and that people have the power to come together on the Santa Monica Pier at sunset and change the world under the ferris wheel’s neon light.

Of course, she is also entertaining. You can listen to the emotional sound of Patti Smith’s voice without hearing a word she says, as she runs on about how “Your soul was like a network of spittle/Like glass balls movin' in like cold streams of logic/And I prayed as the lightning attacked/That soon we’ll make it go crack/Soon we’ll make it go crack,” enjoyably connecting to something as senseless as Alice in Wonderland. As if pulled in the wake of Lewis Carroll, Smith’s aesthetic is equally loaded with rainbow-tinted significance. Performed live, and backed by the talents of Lenny Kaye and Jay Dee Daugherty, the stories she describes are enhanced by her kaleidoscopic image and her poetic digressions between songs easily sweep a willing listener off to tangential delights.

“And the sky split/ And the planets hit/ balls of jade dropped/ and existence stopped/ Little sister the sky is falling/ I don’t mind/ I don’t mind.”

Let’s get metaphysical: There’s this monk-friendly idea that “understanding nothing requires substantial thought.” Taking it to mean that deeper meaning can be found in somewhat nonsensical (poetic) forms, Patti Smith is (I blush) in many ways the embodiment of that idea. She turns songs into little worlds or stories to be lost in, full of strange images and propulsive narrative melodies.

This quality carries the songs she covers, which take on new meaning in her translation: “Gloria” as channeled through The Doors, “White Rabbit” written by Jefferson Airplane, “Are You Experienced” by Jimi Hendrix, “Smells Like Teen Spirit” by Nirvana, “Gimme Shelter” by Rolling Stones — like all of these artists, Patti Smith absolutely rocks the songs to pieces, but then puts them back together in a dark prophetess sort of way.

When all of this heady business took hold of Santa Monica on Thursday, August 16th, uniting the community in a reflective, somewhat spacey, and positively giddy “asmaphere in which anything’s allowed” — yes, indeed, that sleeping giant of rebellious idealism in all of us was shaken, stirred, and taken out for a ride on the West Coaster.

Daiana Feuer's favorite song is "Horses." Her own collection of poetry, For the Time Being (Pervious), which was also her MFA thesis at CalArts, will be published...soon. She didn't know it was poetry until her thesis-crit, when one of her professors asked, "Have you ever thought of this as poetry?" To which she replied, "No."