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  • Titus Toledo @1:50AM, 2015-10-08 Share | Link |
    Tags: , patti smith   

    The Theology of Patti Smith 

    Patti Smith loves coffee. It courses through her new memoir, “M Train,” like a dark, steaming river, connecting her various adventures. In her early twenties, Smith travelled to Veracruz, Mexico, on the advice of William S. Burroughs, who advised her that the best coffee beans in the world were grown in the mountains there, but she’s no snob: a large serving from 7-Eleven—accompanied, on occasion, by a glazed doughnut—will do, if necessary. She could, she informs the reader rather casually, “drink fourteen cups without compromising my sleep.” Is it caffeine that gives Smith her trembling sensibility? She writes—and, judging by her memoirs, acts—as if the world were brimful with the divine.

    Read the rest from The New Yorker

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  • Spread @5:26PM, 2013-11-04 Share | Link |
    Tags: lou reed, , patti smith, velvet underground   

    Patti Smith on “Lou Reed” in The New Yorker:

    “I would try to steer clear of him, but, catlike, he would suddenly reappear, and disarm me with some Delmore Schwartz line about love or courage. I didn’t understand his erratic behavior or the intensity of his moods, which shifted, like his speech patterns, from speedy to laconic. But I understood his devotion to poetry and the transporting quality of his performances. He had black eyes, black T-shirt, pale skin. He was curious, sometimes suspicious, a voracious reader, and a sonic explorer. An obscure guitar pedal was for him another kind of poem. He was our connection to the infamous air of the Factory. He had made Edie Sedgwick dance. Andy Warhol whispered in his ear. Lou brought the sensibilities of art and literature into his music. He was our generation’s New York poet, championing its misfits as Whitman had championed its workingman and Lorca its persecuted.”

     

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