Patti Smith review – punk, poetry and the raw power of connection

Royal Albert Hall, London
From punk ragers to stories of Blake and Bunyan, the poet laureate of dissent wrings blood, sweat and love out of every second of stage time

Not many rock shows begin with a standing ovation – and not many events at the Royal Albert Hall end with a mosh pit – but if there’s any artist primed to turn convention on its head, it’s Patti Smith. The punk legend and poet laureate of dissent returned to London for two nights this week, with the apparent intent to wring blood, sweat and love out of every second of stage time.

This moment is long overdue for fans – and for Smith, who speaks of having had the historic venue in her sights for years. Now 74, her voice is more robust and commanding than ever. Howling and stomping inside the grand Victorian dome, her warm and mighty presence clearly knocks something loose for everyone. Even the act of slinging off her blazer is met with admiration. “How do you stay so cool?” someone shouts from the front. “Sorry,” Smith smiles, sipping from a mug. “It’s genetic.”