Ken Tucker

Consider, however, what it was like to see for the first time the 28-year-old Smith as she struck an androgynous pose in a white shirt and black tie cover photo by pal Robert Mapplethorpe.

and consider what it must have been like to first hear her tremulous croon on a song like Free Money.

Music critics write about 1970s downtown Manhattan Patti Smith performing at CBGB's and Max's Kansas City, but they ignore or aren't aware of the true crucible of her talent, St.

Mark's in the Bowery, the Lower East Side Church, and Ground Zero for the New York School of Poetry.

This was the site of open readings, where Patti could rub shoulders with key influences like Allen Ginsberg, John Giorno, and Ann Waldman.

Patti's print poetry was flatly derivative, but Smith's creative breakthrough came in collaboration with guitarist Lenny Kaye.

Together, they set her poems to music, with Lenny plugging in to accompany her words at readings.

Very quickly, they were welding electric guitar to epic creations, as in this nine-minutes-plus opus combining one of her poems with a cover of Chris Kenner's Land of a Thousand Dances.

It's the song that gave the album its name.

Patti quickly went full-on rock star, getting signed to Clive Davis' then-new Arista Records alongside unlikely label mates such as Barry Manilow and Lou Rawls.

At once a punk and an artiste, Smith had to grapple with the question of what it meant to be avant-garde when you also love the Marvelettes.

That's The Hunter Gets Captured by the Game, a 60s hit for Motown's Marvelettes, written by Smokey Robinson and adored by Smith, who has always had juicy taste in oldies.

The new 50th anniversary edition of Horses includes some alternate takes of songs from this album and others that would appear on subsequent releases.

It's pretty easy to hear why Snowball didn't make the horse's cut.

It's a more conventional pop song, one that doesn't possess the grand delirium Smith was going for.

Right from the start, she knew how she wanted a sound and reportedly fought with her producer, the Velvet Underground's John Cale, to achieve the sounds she heard in her head.

These days, Patti Smith is still touring.

She has a sub-stack newsletter to chronicle her dreamiest thoughts and has a new memoir called Bread of Angels.

The reissue of Horses fits right into her current context, sounding as urgent and immediate as it did a half century ago.

Look at that signal.