I love everything about Patti Smith from her single-minded and endearingly hippyish politics all the way down to her moustache. Horses (1975) is a formidable album of great wonder. Gone Again (1996) and Trampin' (2004) held the same fire in their belly as classics like Radio Ethiopia (1976) and Easter (1978). Smith has been part of some great collaborations, she's maintained her niche as a compelling live performer, and I danced for joy when she finally and rightfully was inducted into the Hall of Fame. I'm sure many of you are nodding along enthusiastically.

I am not and have never been a Nirvana fan. They were a pretty-boy Pixies; their albums are now as hoary and ubiquitous as Dire Straits' Brothers In Arms, and probably hold the same pride of place in most chartered accountants' record collections.y'know, just for when they want to cut loose. I didn't ever need to again hear "Come As You Are" or the horrendously pedestrian anthem-by-numbers that is "Smells Like Teen Spirit."

Thanks, Patti. Then again, Smith has made her career on layering her strangled, emotive voice over cover versions of songs like "Gloria," "Hey Joe," "My Generation," and let's not forget the sublime "When Doves Cry." Maybe she could open my eyes as she had done with Van Morrison. Maybe I would come out of the experience with a newfound enthusiasm for the artist at the heart of Nirvana? Who am I to argue with Patti Smith? She's a genius. The smoky maudlin double bass picking out the plot of a fevered nightmare is enrapturing.for ten seconds. Then that over familiar two-note riff comes in. On a banjo. What they probably intended to be a quaint and shocking dust-of-the-dirt-trail juxataposition is more likely Smith's clay feet crumbling under her own audaciousness. And you can just hear the band nodding along earnestly, wearing embroidered waistcoats, metaphorically patting their backs at a job well done.

Which isn't quite to say it's bad; except for the bluegrass and the minute of free-form poetry in the middle, it's a fairly faithful melodic rendition. I think that's a problem. It's all a bit too faithful and reverent, which is very un-Patti Smith. Because I can see Smith talking about the "last true punk" at some god-awful "Celebrations of Kurt" musical event (with support from the bassist from Mudhoney and the drummer from Shonen Knife). I can see loads of kids in hoodies wondering why a hobo is on the stage. I can see myself sniggering at her over-pronunciation of "mulatto." I can see that, and it just seems like Smith is making a show of herself no matter how people actually perceive the relevance of Kurt Cobain today. I still love her, but this is silly stuff.

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