Photography: Steven Sebring, Tokyo, 1997 vanityfair.com
And speaking of Patti Smith's latest single, how about her earliest? That would be her cover of Hey Joe, which was released in the US back in 1974; interestingly, Tom Verlaine played lead guitar on this song as well. The single featured two of Patti Smith's long-term collaborators, Lenny Kaye on guitar, and Richard Sohl on piano; it is with them, along with Ivan Kral on bass, and Jay Dee Daugherty on drums, that she would create her classic albums, starting with the recording of Horses the following year.
The B-side, Piss Factory, is a rare gem in every respect; it showcases Patti Smith's storming spoken poetry, in this case reflecting upon her experience as a factory worker. Last but not least, Hey Joe (Version)/Piss Factory was an independent production, made with financial help from Patti Smith's life-long friend Robert Mapplethorpe; as Steve Huey puts it in allmusic, the single "helped kickstart the independent D.I.Y. aesthetic that remains punk rock's hallmark even today."
Sixteen and time to pay off
I get this job in a piss factory inspecting pipe
Forty hours, thirty-six dollars a week
But its a paycheck, Jack
So hot in here, hot like sahara
You could faint in the heat
But these bitches are just too lame to understand
Too goddamned grateful to get this job
To know they're getting screwed up the ass
All these women, they got no teeth, or gum, or cranium
And the way they suck hot sausage
But me, well, I wasn't saying too much neither
I was moral school girl, hard-working asshole
I figured I was speedo motorcycle
I had to earn my dough, had to earn my dough
But no, you gotta, you gotta relate babe
You gotta find the rhythm within
Floor boss slides up to me and he says
Hey, sister, you're just movin' too fast
You screwin' up the quota
You doin' your piece work too fast
Now you get off your mustang, Sally
You ain't goin' nowhere, you ain't goin' nowhere
I lay back, I get my nerve up, I take a swig of Romilar
And walk up to hot shit Dot Hook and I say
Hey, hey sister, it don't matter whether I do labor fast or slow
There's always more labor after
She's real catholic, see, she fingers her cross and she says
There's one reason, there's one reason
You do it my way or I push your face in
We knee you in the John if you don't get off your mustang, Sally
If you don't shake it up baby, shake it up baby, twist and shout
Oh what I could will a radio here, James Brown singing
I Lost Someone, or the Jesters and the Paragons
And Georgie Woods, the guy with the goods, and Guided Missiles
But no, I got nothin', no diversion, no window
Nothing here but a porthole in the plaster, in the plaster
Where I look down, look at Sweet Theresa's convent
All those nurses, all those nuns scattin' 'round
With their bloom hoods like cats in mourning
Oh to me they, you know, to me they look pretty damn free down there
Down there, not having to press those smooth
Not having to smooth those hands against hot steel
Not having to worry about the in-speed, the dogma of in-speed of labor
They look pretty damn free down there
The way they smell, the way they smell
And here, I gotta be up here smellin' Dot Hook's midwife sweat
I would rather smell the way boys smell
Oh those schoolboys, way their legs flap under the desks in study hall
That odor rising roses and ammonia
And way their dicks droop like lilacs
Or the way they smell that forbidden acrid smell
But no, I gotta, I gotta put clammy lady in my nostril
Her against the wheel, me against the wheel
Oh, the in-speed-o, slow motion inspection is drivin' me insane
In steel next to Dot Hook, oh, we may look the same
Shoulder to shoulder, sweatin' 110 degrees
But I will never faint, I will never faint
They laugh and they expect me to faint but I will never faint
I refuse to lose, I refuse to fall down
Because you see it's the monotony that's got to me
Every afternoon like the last one
Every afternoon like a rerun, next to Dot Hook
And yeah, we look the same
Both pumpin' steel, both sweatin'
But you know she got nothin' to hide
And I got something to hide here called desire
I got something to hide here called desire
And I will get out of here
You know the fiery potion is just about to come
In my nose is the taste of sugar
And I got nothin' to hide here, save desire
And I'm gonna go, I'm gonna get out of here
I'm gonna get out of here, I'm gonna get on that train
I'm gonna go on that train and go to New York City
I'm gonna be somebody, I'm gonna get on that train, go to New York City
I'm gonna be so big, I'm gonna be a big star and I will never return
Never return, no, never return, to burn out in this piss factory
And I will travel light
Oh, watch me now
Forty hours, thirty-six dollars a week
But its a paycheck, Jack
So hot in here, hot like sahara
You could faint in the heat
But these bitches are just too lame to understand
Too goddamned grateful to get this job
To know they're getting screwed up the ass
All these women, they got no teeth, or gum, or cranium
And the way they suck hot sausage
But me, well, I wasn't saying too much neither
I was moral school girl, hard-working asshole
I figured I was speedo motorcycle
I had to earn my dough, had to earn my dough
But no, you gotta, you gotta relate babe
You gotta find the rhythm within
Floor boss slides up to me and he says
Hey, sister, you're just movin' too fast
You screwin' up the quota
You doin' your piece work too fast
Now you get off your mustang, Sally
You ain't goin' nowhere, you ain't goin' nowhere
I lay back, I get my nerve up, I take a swig of Romilar
And walk up to hot shit Dot Hook and I say
Hey, hey sister, it don't matter whether I do labor fast or slow
There's always more labor after
She's real catholic, see, she fingers her cross and she says
There's one reason, there's one reason
You do it my way or I push your face in
We knee you in the John if you don't get off your mustang, Sally
If you don't shake it up baby, shake it up baby, twist and shout
Oh what I could will a radio here, James Brown singing
I Lost Someone, or the Jesters and the Paragons
And Georgie Woods, the guy with the goods, and Guided Missiles
But no, I got nothin', no diversion, no window
Nothing here but a porthole in the plaster, in the plaster
Where I look down, look at Sweet Theresa's convent
All those nurses, all those nuns scattin' 'round
With their bloom hoods like cats in mourning
Oh to me they, you know, to me they look pretty damn free down there
Down there, not having to press those smooth
Not having to smooth those hands against hot steel
Not having to worry about the in-speed, the dogma of in-speed of labor
They look pretty damn free down there
The way they smell, the way they smell
And here, I gotta be up here smellin' Dot Hook's midwife sweat
I would rather smell the way boys smell
Oh those schoolboys, way their legs flap under the desks in study hall
That odor rising roses and ammonia
And way their dicks droop like lilacs
Or the way they smell that forbidden acrid smell
But no, I gotta, I gotta put clammy lady in my nostril
Her against the wheel, me against the wheel
Oh, the in-speed-o, slow motion inspection is drivin' me insane
In steel next to Dot Hook, oh, we may look the same
Shoulder to shoulder, sweatin' 110 degrees
But I will never faint, I will never faint
They laugh and they expect me to faint but I will never faint
I refuse to lose, I refuse to fall down
Because you see it's the monotony that's got to me
Every afternoon like the last one
Every afternoon like a rerun, next to Dot Hook
And yeah, we look the same
Both pumpin' steel, both sweatin'
But you know she got nothin' to hide
And I got something to hide here called desire
I got something to hide here called desire
And I will get out of here
You know the fiery potion is just about to come
In my nose is the taste of sugar
And I got nothin' to hide here, save desire
And I'm gonna go, I'm gonna get out of here
I'm gonna get out of here, I'm gonna get on that train
I'm gonna go on that train and go to New York City
I'm gonna be somebody, I'm gonna get on that train, go to New York City
I'm gonna be so big, I'm gonna be a big star and I will never return
Never return, no, never return, to burn out in this piss factory
And I will travel light
Oh, watch me now
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