Patti Smith’s genre defining punk-rock album Horses is being re-released, and its set to inspire, bewilder, devastate and excite a whole new batch of teenagers.

“Jesus died for somebody’s sins but not mine…” – the opening lines to Smith’s 1975 classic set a benchmark in shattering lyrics. It was clear from the outset that this was going to me no ordinary trip; mainly because within the first eight words Smith managed to smash down the barriers of the genre by blending melodic piano chords with moaning guitars and those infamous vocals. Smith truly holds the voice of the devil, but hey; they always did say he was a charmer.

The simple, morbidly optimistic lyrics would become synonymous with Smith’s ability to blend the classic with the current; in an album full of contrasts we get religion/rebellion, old/new, gentle/thrashing, happy/sad. Immediately it leaves the listener feeling empty and bare – emotionally blank and confused as to where they’re going to be taken. And dear readers, it’s a long, often uneasy ride to the end of this punk tunnel.

Smith’s life was excruciating by her own admission until fame and fortune came her way in her early twenties. Born into a working class family in New Jersey, she left school at fifteen, gave her first child up for adoption at sixteen, and the same year fled the factory where she worked in order to move to Manhattan. She didn’t so much burst onto the Greenwich Village rock scene, more she infiltrated the lives of a few key members – becoming lovers with photographer Robert Mapplethorpe in order to share his room at the infamous Chelsea hotel (where in room 100 Nancy Spungen would later be murdered.) And soon began to make friends with the most eminent members of the bohemian crowd including Bob Dylan, Jim Carroll, Tom Verlaine and Sam Shepard.

Within less than a year Smith was renowned within New York for her androgynous looks, awesome stage presence and intelligent lyrics. However whilst it was initially only the arts crowd who recognised her talent, she would soon change this with the release of her first full album ‘Horses,’ which blended rock music with poetry, wrapped it in Smith’s erratic, punk vocals and stamped itself all over the face of modern music. A classic was born, and a generation defined.

Horses was instantaneously hailed as a classis for many reasons; firstly there was the poetry of Smith’s lyrics- teenage angst, eighteenth century poetry and obscure contemporary literature were some of the intertwining themes, it was unlike anything the world had heard before. The prodigious lyrics were heightened by Smith’s delivery which is arguably her greatest contribution to music yet. A writhing, uninhibited voice which could switch from haunting lullaby to screaming chant in the space of a note, accompanied by an almost animalistic stage presence it set Smith apart from the rest of the self-conscious art crowd of the time, and allowed for the likes of Karen O and PJ Harvey who, it is safe to say, would be no where near as brazen as they are today had it not been for Smith pushing boundaries as far as she did. Her acts became famously engaging and uncontrollable – to the extent that during a show in Florida, Smith danced off the edge of a high stage, falling fifteen feet into the concrete orchestra pit.

The album kicks off with Smith’s far superior version of Van Morrison’s Gloria, arguably the album’s finest moment it is five minutes of undiluted, sexed-up rock and roll with the added bonus of a genuine melody which much of New York’s punk output seemed to be lacking. We are then lead into the uncharacteristically upbeat, afro-pop fun of Redondo Beach, where Smith demonstrates not only her lighter side, but also her often underrated voice. Birdland is an epic nine minute wonder-song based on ‘A book of dreams’ by William Reichs (the same book which would later influence Kate Bush to write Cloudbusting) as Smith takes us gently into the mind of a mourning son. Kimberley, Break it Up and Free Money are more examples of her ability to write meaningful lyrics disguised as big, loud punk rock songs; the latter being a particularly heart wrenching ballad which moves swiftly into full scale anarchy as the chorus sets in. And the undying poet within Smith emerges on the albums concluding songs: Land (Horses,) and Elegy – a two part punk poem about what exactly no one quite knows. Nonetheless, the song is an ultimately an enjoyable, if slightly challenging ride, marching us to the final screams of the album it whips you up from the layered chant of the opening lines “The boy looked at Johnny, he drove it in he drove it hard, horses, horses, horses, horses” and then twirls you so fast you fall off the edge just as Smith’s vocals reach their pinnacle fourteen minutes in, leaving you a little confused, yet strangely satisfied.

As well as the music, the album introduced one element which would become almost as iconic as the songs themselves. Style. Smith’s image has come to be the pin up of the punk-rock scene. Taken on a rainy day in New York by her friend and one time lover Robert Mapplethorpe, the unsophisticated, black and white image of a characteristically androgynous Smith was initially considered too simple to don the front of an album by record company bosses, but after a brief tantrum Smith was granted her own way, and thus the legendry cover came to life. Smith’s appearance, like her voice, couldn’t be described as either man or woman; staring blankly into the lens she has the stance and attitude of a woman, though her oversized suit and unkempt hair give her the power and masculinity which she would emphasise throughout her career to create an emotionally open, yet frosty persona. She became an idol for everyone – a creature to be observed, but never petted.

Horses has been cited as the main influence for many of Smith’s preceding rock stars, such as Michael Stipe and Johnny Borrell. The defying of genres was almost unheard of up until that point – the uncontrolled punk sound produced by The Velvet Underground’s John Cale carrying the restrained, meaningful literary-inspired lyrics have since become common within Indie music, but Smith was there first, and loudest. Because of this Horses is considered not only a classic example of originality and rock and roll greatness, but a bible for the alternative youth of any generation, and it is for this reason that Horses will never sound any less fresh, innovative and important than it did in those grimy days in mid 1970s New York.

In the words of Smith: “We started it, let’s take over it.”