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[23.6.05] [Stevens]
MELTDOWN DIARIES PART TWO
Returning to the cavernous chamber that is the setting for Patti Smith's Meltdown for perhaps one last time, I achieve some personal unity with the sight two rows in front of me of Sonic Boom, the erstwhile and substantially estranged songwriting partner of Jason Pierce who played the event only last week. Both forming two halves of the legendary Spacemen 3. On this occasion, we are preparing to be mesmerised by the shimmering guitar of Kevin Shields, latterly of My Bloody Valentine and now something of a hired gun, who plays over Patti Smith's reading of her personal homage to deceased friend and associate Robert Mapplethorpe, The Coral Sea.
A large, chintzy sofa sits on the stage, surrounded by amps and guitars. A mounted image of Robert Mapplethorpe, the subject of this evening's remembrance (a recurring theme in Smith's choice of events in this series) stares blankly at us from the back of the stage. Cat Power comes on and tinkles the ivories on the grand piano to the stage left. The guy next to me remarks it's somewhat redolent of Joni Mitchell. It is. Before long, Smith emerges and reads, readily. Cat Power continues, dipping into Dylan at one point. She departs, only to be recalled by Smith for one more. Then the interval arrives.
Shields walks out from behind the stage and assumes position on the sofa, reaching for a trademark Fender Jazzcaster, having staged something of a legendary disappearing act for most of the nineties, assuming the reclusive rocker mantle. Shields then emerged to join the supergroup that is Primal Scream (always led by an ex-Mary Chain but now with added Stone Roses and Felt members) and even contributed to the lush soundtrack of Sofia Coppola's Lost In Translation. Tonight, the warm fuzzy tremolo tones generated from the effects pedals, redolent of Loveless era, act as a counterbalance to the intensity of Smith's reading from The Coral Sea, as the Mapplethorpe image is replaced with that of a montage of waves and ripples and static ships. Shields switches Jazzcasters throughout, others being tuned in certain ways, no doubt. Stunningly, the event assumes a form of its own, taking us away from late 80s New York, from 00s London, if only for a few moments.
Smith ends by dedicating the night to not only her former lover and collaborator Mapplethorpe, but also Derek Jarman, with Cat Power and Kevin Shields assisting her in song. It really feels like a special moment that only you have been permitted to witness, even if you are surrounded by hordes of chin-stroking South Bank regulars. William Burroughs and now this, Patti Smith's Meltdown simply cannot be matched for intensity and reach. I might have to attend the finale on Sunday now.
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