Patti Smith’s Horses isn’t just an album—it’s a declaration. Released in 1975, this debut carved out a space where poetry met punk, where raw energy collided with literary ambition. Across 43 minutes, it moves through rock, garage, and art-punk, never settling, always pushing.
At a time when music was shifting, Horses felt like a challenge, an invitation, and a rebellion all at once. Smith’s voice, both in lyrics and delivery, blurred the lines between performance and experience. Each track built on the last, creating a work that felt alive—unpolished yet intentional, urgent yet poetic.
Among its standout moments, three songs capture the essence of the album’s spirit. They embody the restless creativity, the fearless storytelling, and the raw, unfiltered sound that made Horses a landmark. Here’s how they define Patti Smith’s groundbreaking debut.
“Gloria”
Patti Smith’s Horses opens with a bold statement, both in sound and sentiment. Her version of “Gloria,” originally by Them featuring Van Morrison, transforms the classic into something deeply personal. It begins not with the familiar riff, but with “In Excelsis Deo,” a spoken-word prelude that sets the stage for what’s to come.
The shift from quiet intensity to controlled rebellion is striking. Smith’s delivery moves from reflective to unapologetic, her voice riding the tension before finally breaking free. The restrained defiance gives way to something raw, something wild.
And then, there’s the line that defined an era—“Jesus died for somebody’s sins but not mine.” A single phrase that set the tone for an album, an artist, and a movement.
“Free Money”
“Free Money” teases with a quiet opening, a delicate piano melody that feels almost like a lullaby. Patti Smith’s voice follows suit, soft and wistful, as if she’s letting us in on a private dream. It’s a moment of calm, but not for long.
Just as the listener settles in, the song shifts. The tempo builds, the drums kick in, and the energy surges forward. What seemed like a ballad transforms into something urgent, something relentless. Percussion punctuates each moment, heightening the tension before launching into a soaring, full-throttle chorus.
By the time the song reaches its peak, there’s no turning back. The momentum never eases, carrying the track to a thrilling close. It’s the perfect way to lock in the first half of Horses—a rush of sound, emotion, and restless ambition.
“Kimberly”
“Kimberly” stands out as one of the most melodic moments on Horses, offering a contrast to the raw intensity that surrounds it. Named after Patti Smith’s younger sister, the song carries a sense of nostalgia wrapped in driving instrumentals. There’s a warmth in its rhythm, but the urgency never fades.
The steady pulse of the track keeps it grounded, yet Smith’s delivery remains untamed. Her voice moves between affection and desperation, as if grasping at fleeting memories. It’s personal yet universal, intimate yet expansive.
Beneath the melody, there’s a quiet strength. Smith doesn’t just reflect—she reclaims. “Kimberly” may sound more structured than some of the album’s wilder moments, but its energy pulses with the same rebellious spirit that defines Horses.