Album Review: Patti Smith Banga

It's been eight years since veritable musical institution Patti Smith has graced the world with a collection of songs. Banga is her eleventh album, and it's one steeped in nostalgia, remorse, reflection and that twinkling spark of anger that has always bubbled under the surface of her poetic lyrics. There are intellectual touchstones (the title track's named after the dog from Leo Tolstoy's The Master And Margarita; Tarkovsky (The Second Moon Is Jupiter) is about the famed Russian film maker, and cultural elegies (This Is A Girl is an ode to Amy Winehouse, whilst Fuji-San ponders the devastation of the Japanese tsunami, but throughout it all emanates Smith's heartfelt, loquacious spirit, still a strong, devilish presence. When in Seneca she offers in her trademark gravelly murmur “Oh crown of wind, two royal leopards run with him”, it transcends its possible mawkishness to become a thing of elegance.

Much of Banga's opening half is quite straightforward in how it engages the listener – whilst opening track Amerigo is about the destructive discovery of America and April Fool explores a carefree teen bohemia, Smith plays it like MOR balladry, albeit with her iconic turns of phrase and eerie gravitas. It helps that she ropes in old friends such as Lenny Kaye, Tom Verlaine and Jay Dee Daughtery to boost the music as only they know how. In fact it's the presence of guitar that proves the most welcome return, and helps to provide backbone to these charming tracks.

By the time she closes out with the sprawling peyote purge of Constantine's Dream and a heartbreaking cover of Neil Young's already brilliant After The Goldrush, Smith's reign as rock Oracle remains unabated.