Fresh Air - Patti Smith’s ‘Horses’ Turns 50

Episode Date: November 7, 2025

50 years ago next week, Patti Smith released her debut album, ‘Horses,’ ushering in a new era of rock and roll. We’re listening back to portions of our interviews with Smith, from 1996 and 2010. She talks about her early days in New York City, when she was trying to find her way as a poet, performer and later songwriter. When it came to ‘Horses,’ she says, “I thought I would do this record and then go back to my writing and my drawing and return to my somewhat abnormal normal life. But ‘Horses’ took me on a whole different path.”  And Ken Tucker reviews the new anniversary edition of the album. Also, we remember actress Diane Ladd in an excerpt of an interview with her daughter, Laura Dern. And David Bianculli reviews ‘Pluribus,’ the new series from ‘Breaking Bad’ creator Vince Gilligan.Learn more about sponsor message choices: podcastchoices.com/adchoicesNPR Privacy Policy

Fall in love with new music every Friday at All Songs Considered. That's NPR's Music Recommendation podcast. Fridays are where we spend our whole show sharing all the greatest new releases of the week. Make the hunt for new music a part of your life again. Tap into New Music Friday from All Songs Considered, available wherever you get your podcasts. This is Fresh Air. I'm David B. and Cooley. Patty Smith is now considered one of the wise women of rock and roll, an eloquent chronicler of her life in music. and in a series of acclaimed memoirs. But 50 years ago, she was a scrounging poet who wanted to be a rock star on her own very

literary terms, and her debut album, Horses, announced a unique artist. Today, we're going to listen back to portions of two of Terry's interviews with Patty Smith about her early days as a poet and performer. But first, rock critic Ken Tucker takes a look back and tells us about the new anniversary edition of Horses, which, is supplemented with previously unreleased music. Jesus died for somebody's sins, but not mine. Millenipat thieves,

while caught of my soul. 50 years on, Patty Smith's horses still sounds like nothing else before or since its arrival in 1975. At the time, Smith had one foot in poetry, the other in rock and roll. Her spirit animals were the French surrealist Arthur Rambo and the Doors' demigod Jim Morrison. Both bad boys who died young, they inspired Patty as self-mythologizing, rebellious innovators. But they also served as warning lessons in the self-control and discipline necessary to be a long-lasting prolific artist, which the 78-year-old Smith has indeed become. Consider, however, what was like to see for the first time the 28-year-old Smith as she struck an androgynous pose in a white

shirt and black-tie cover photo by pal Robert Maplethorpe. And consider what it must have been like to first hear her tremulous croon on a song like Free Money. I could sleep Find a ticket Win a lottery Scub the pearls Up from the sea Catch them in and buy you

All the things You need Every night before I rest my head See those dollar bills Squirreling in my bed I know they're stolen But I don't be bad I take that money

Byer things you never had Oh baby It would mean so much to me Oh, baby Music critics write about 1970s downtown Manhattan Patty Smith Performing at CBGB's and Maxis Kansas City But they ignore or aren't aware of the true crucible of her talent

St. Marks and the Bowery, the Lower East Side Church and Ground Zero for the New York School of Poetry. This was the site of open readings where Patty could rub shoulders with key influences like Alan Ginsberg, John Giorno, and Anne Waldman. Patty's print poetry was flatly derivative, but Smith's creative breakthrough came in collaboration with guitarist Lenny K. Together, they set her poems to music, with Lenny plugging in to accompany her words at readings. Very quickly, they were welding electric guitar to epic creations, as in this nine-minute-plus opus combining one of her poems,

with a cover of Chris Kenner's Land of a Thousand Dances. It's the song that gave the album its name. The boy was in the hallway drinking a glass of tea. From the other end of the hallway, a rhythm was generating. Another boy was sliding up the hallway. His gold nerves merged perfectly with the hallway. He merged perfectly the mirror in the hallway. The boy looked at Johnny.

Johnny wanted to run, but the movie came. Moving as planned The boy took Johnny He pressed him against a locker He drove it in, he drove it home He drove it deep and Johnny The boy disappeared Johnny thumbed his knee

Started crashing his head against a locker Started crashing his head against a locker Started laughing his stirbony When Suddenly Johnny gets a feeling He's been surrounded by Horses

Horses, horses, coming in in all directions, white, shining silver, studs with their nose in flames. He saw horses, horses, horses, horses, horses, horses, horses, so you know how the pile name. Patty quickly went full-on rock star, getting signed to Clive Davis' then-new Arrister Records, alongside unlikely labelmates such as Barry Manilow and Lou Rawls. At once a punk and an artiste, Smith had to grapple with the question of what it meant to be avant-garde when you also love the marvellettes. Every day things change in the world puts on a new face. Certain things rearrange and this old world seems like a new place. That's the Hunter gets captured by the game,

a 60s hit for Motown's Marvelettes, written by Smokey Robinson, and adored by Smith, who has always had juicy taste in oldies. The new 50th anniversary edition of Horses includes some alternate takes of songs from this album and others that would appear on subsequently releases. The one previously unreleased song is called Snowball.

Oh, don't look behind me now. I know what's coming. Big white hairy ball of late looking like a snowball. When it hits me, I'm so amazed. When it hits me, I'm feeling crazed. When it hits me, I start to recall memories. Flooding like a snowball rolling down.

Rolling down the hill, Snowball, giving me a chill, your face that I used to see, places that we used to be, they start. It's pretty easy to hear why Snowball didn't make the horses cut. It's a more conventional pop song, one that doesn't possess the grand delirium Smith was going for. Right from the start, she knew how she wanted a sound and reportedly fought with her producer, the Velvet Underground's John Kale, to achieve the sounds she heard. heard in her head. Car stopped in a clearing. Reven of life it was nearing. I saw the boy break out of his skin.

My heart turned over and I crawled and he cried. Break it all. Oh, I don't understand. Break it up. These days, Patty Smith is still touring. She has a substack newsletter to chronicle her dreamiest thoughts and has a new memoir called Bread of Angels. The reissue of Horses fits right into her current context,

sounding as urgent and immediate as it did a half century ago. Ken Tucker reviewed the new 50th anniversary edition of Horses. It was released last month by Legacy Recordings. After a break, we'll listen to a portion of Terry's 1990s, interview with Patty Smith. This is fresh air. There is so much happening in politics in any given week. You might need help putting it all in perspective. As your week draws to a close, join the NPR Politics podcast team for our weekly roundup. Here are best political reporters zoom into the biggest stories of the week, not just what they mean, but what they mean for you, all in under 30 minutes.

Listen to the weekly roundup every Friday on the NPR Politics podcast. November 10th marks 50 years since Patty Smith released her debut album Horses. One of the biggest influences on Smith was her friendship with the artist Robert Mapplethorpe. They both were 20-year-old aspiring artists when they met in 1967 in New York City. They soon moved in together and helped nurture each other's artistic development. Maplethorpe became one of the most controversial artists of his time. His photographs of nudes, often in a lot of. erotic and sadomasochistic poses put him at the center of a battle over censorship and federal

funding of the arts. Mapplethorpe died of AIDS in 1989 at the age of 42. Terry first spoke with Patty Smith in 1996 when Smith had published a book of short prose poems dedicated to and inspired by Maplethorpe. The book was called The Coral Sea. Terry asked Smith about a famous photograph he had taken of her. He took the photograph, perhaps the most famous photograph of you that was on the cover of your album, Horses, I think, in 1975, in which you're wearing a kind of oversized white shirt and an undone tie with like a suit jacket slung over your shoulder. Tell us how that photograph came about. Well, we wanted to take the cover and Robert knew where he wanted to take it. It was up in Sam Wagstaff's apartment in New York City, which was a very white,

a very white room. And there was a triangle of light that used to come through a window, and he was extremely interested in photographing that triangle. And we went up there, and I remember the light started changing, and he wanted us to hurry up, and we had to run. we couldn't get a cabin we had to run as fast as we could because he could really feel the light changing and in terms of my clothing it was just my usual clothes i i used to like um i really wanted to have a baudillarian type of look i wanted a black and white sort of a mixture of uh just how i was and little 19th century feel in it. But in the end, the final photograph,

which some people have made quite a bit of the particular pose or stance in the photograph, was really a tribute to Frank Sinatra. The capital years. Well, no, actually, he did a movie, I think it was called, oh, man. I don't have, I don't think, think it was pal joey it was the joey louis story and uh joey lewis was a singer that got in trouble

with the mob and uh he got his throat cut and he wound up a comedian i don't know if you remember that but yeah it's it's the movie that um uh all the way comes from yeah that's right the last scene of it uh frank sinatra's walking alone uh down a dark street with a lantern there's a lantern lit street and he sort of philosophically talking to himself in a pane of glass and he slings his coat over his shoulder and, you know, philosophically walks into the city's sunset. But I always thought it was cool the way he slung his coat over his shoulder. So that was the only, there was only a couple of photographs in that particular shooting like that,

but that was the one Robert picked. the Frank Sinatra shot. The Joker is Wild, I think. Yeah, that's it. Yeah, that's it. Yeah, that's it. The Joker is Wild. Appropriate title.

You met Robert Mablethorpe in 1967 when you were 20. Do I have that right? Yes. How did you meet? Well, we met in Brooklyn. I was around Pratt Institute of Art where he went to school. I had a friend there, and my friend had moved, I was looking for my friend, and I knocked on the door where he used to be, and someone said,

well, I don't know where your friend is, but you can ask the guy in there, and I went in another room and saw this kid sleeping on this cot, and I just stood there and was watching him sleep, and he opened his eyes and smiled at me, and that's how we met. Now, was he already taking photographs when you met? No, he didn't start taking photographs until late 69 when we were at the Chelsea Hotel. He really only started taking photographs. He was doing drawings, paintings, and collages, and some constructions. And then later he did installations.

But in his huge montages and collages, he used a lot of magazine pictures, holy cards, existing pictures. Reproductions of Michelangelo, who he greatly admired, reproductions of statues and sculpture. But he was never satisfied, and he really started taking photographs to insert within his other work. He didn't set out to become a photographer. He really just wanted to create his own information for his drawings and montages. Did you help each other with your work?

always what ways were you able to help him and how did he help you well we helped each other in any way we could if whether it be financially or an encouraging word or constructive criticism and just mutual belief in each other's work when you that's something really that no one can do nor take away from you is when you have another human being that completely believes in your work. Was he the first person who completely believed in your work? I'd say so, yes. You've said that Mabel Thorpe helped you make the transition from psychotic to serious art student.

What did you mean by that? Well, I'm never quite sure of what I meant. You know, when people asked me to explain what I said 20 years ago or something, it's um i don't i couldn't exactly say what i meant but i probably when i when i met him i felt like my work was really an extension of my neuroses and um instead of an extension of intelligence and um he uh by helping me believe in myself as a person and uh gaining respect for my own intelligence shifted the emphasis where the work came from. I really did start writing and drawing when I was younger to relieve myself from certain emotional tensions. But...

Like what? Well, I mean, whatever tensions people have when they're growing up, whether it be fear or sexual tensions or parental tension, youthful paranoia, I don't know, name it. I think he gave you the money to record your first record, the 45 that had Hey Joe on one side and Piss Factory on the other. Tell me the story of that. Well, it's really simply Robert, you know, for a long time, I had helped him financially, and Robert's situation got more solid. He had a really benevolent and wonderful patron, Sam Wagstaff. And through Sam Wagstaff, Robert was able to finance our first, well, our only independent single.

And that's all the story was. I wanted to do a single and didn't have the money, and he gave it to me. so we went into electric ladyland one night and did it one night we may look the same shoulder to shoulder sweating 110 degrees but I will never think I will never think they live and they expect me to think but I will never think I refuse to lose I refuse to fall down because you see it's been the night and you it's got to me every afternoon like the last one every afternoon like a rerun next to die hook and yeah we look the same Both pumping steel, both sweating, but you know she got nothing 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 fear of potion is just about to come. In my nose is the taste of sugar, and I got nothing to hide here safe desire. And I'm going to go. I'm going to get out of here. I'm going to get out of here. I'm going to get on that train.

And I'm going to go on that train and go to New York City. Robert always When we were younger He always Thought that I should sing Although it was never really an ambition of mine And he was really happy When I wanted to do the single

And he was really pleased to be a part of it Had he heard you sing I mean would you sing Were you singing in the house Before you were singing in performance Yeah you know I'd be making spaghetti or wash clothes and sing.

I used to sing little songs and for some reason he liked my singing he used to think I used to sing little blues songs and things and he used to think I well he always thought I should sing. You think you would have done it if he didn't

nudge you in that direction? Well he did push me towards that but it was a series of people actually you know Sam Sheper was really instrumental in getting me to sing in public. I had a few different friends that seemed to think that I had a bend toward that. And I really do believe if it wasn't for those friends, Lenny Kay and a few others,

no, I don't believe that I would be singing, at least not recording. I mean, I might still be singing around the house making spaghetti, but I can't say that I would have been recording. Patty Smith, speaking to Terry Gross in 1996. After a break, we'll listen to portions of another of their conversations, this one from 2010. Also, we'll hear from actress Laura Dern in a 2023 interview discussing her mother, Diane Lad, who died this week at age 89. And I'll review Pluribus, the new series from Breaking Bad creator Vince Gilligan.

I'm David B. Incouly, and this is Freshie. share. Late afternoon dream of hotel you just had to quarrel sent you away I was looking for you Oh, are you gone and gone?

Oh, you're on the phone. Another dimension. Well, you never returned. Oh, you know what I mean. I'm looking for you. Are you gone gone? We're commemorating the 50th anniversary of Patty's, Smith's debut album Horses. She's considered the godmother of punk. With her first album, she created a

hybrid of poetry and rock and established a high-energy performance style that was sometimes aggressive and sometimes ecstatic. When Terry spoke with Patty Smith in 2010, Smith had written the memoir Just Kids about growing up in New Jersey, moving to New York in 1967, evolving into a poet, songwriter and performer and beginning a relationship with artist Robert Mablethorpe. You say that until a friend suggested that you'd be in a rock and roll band,

it had never occurred to you. It was just like not part of your world. No, why would it? You know, I'm not a musician. You know, I don't play any instrument. I didn't play any instrument. I didn't have any specific talents. I mean, I came from the South Jersey, Philadelphia area,

and in the early 60s, everybody sang. They sang on street corner. runners, three-part harmonies, a cappella. I knew most of my friends were better singers than me. There was nothing in what I did that would give a sense that I should be in a rock and roll band. Also, girls weren't in rock and roll bands. I mean, they sang, but, you know, the closest thing to a rock singer, a real rock singer that we had was Grace Slick. And I certainly didn't have Grace Slick's voice.

So you found the guitarist Lenny Kay. You read an article by him about a cappella groups and you really liked it. And you found him. You saw him out. He was working at a bookstore in the village. If you had not found Lenny Kay, do you think you wouldn't have been in a rock and roll band? Because he has been your guitarist kind of forever. Well, I can't say what would happen.

It was really Sam Shepard who suggested, you know, I said to Sam, when Robert helped me through Gerard Malanga to get my first reading, I said, I got to do something special because if I don't do something special, Gregory's going to, you know, throw tomatoes at me or something, Gregory Corso, who was mentoring me not to be a boring poet. And I said, I want to do something special. and Sam said, well, you have these, and I said, well, I could sing a cappella songs, and he said, well, do you know anybody that plays guitar? And I said, well, this fellow Lenny Kay mentioned he played a little guitar. And I don't know how I would have evolved because the thing about Lenny that made him different from everyone else is Lenny was there to magnify. my ideas. He really, I'm not saying, I'm not saying he was totally selfless. He had a sense of himself, but he was completely there for me. You were saying that you didn't have, you know, you didn't think of yourself as a singer per se, that your friends had better voices than you did.

But you created this, this new style, really, that was a combination of poetry and music. It wasn't about having like a perfect singer's voice. It was the style that you performed in the personality that you put into it, the kind of defiance that you had in some songs, the energy. Would you talk about what you felt you were doing early on that was different from what you'd seen other people do? I think my perception of myself was really as a performer and a communicator. My first album Horses, my mission and the collective band mission, was really on one level to merge poetry and rock and roll, but more humanistically, to reach out to other disenfranchised people. You know, we, in 1975, the young homosexual kids were being disowned by their families. You know, kids like me who were a little weird or a little different were often persecuted in their small towns.

And it wasn't just, you know, because of sexual persuasion. It was for any reason for being an artist, for being different, for having political views, for just wanting to be free. And I really recorded the record to connect with these people. And also, in terms of our place in rock and roll, just to create some bridge between our great artists that we had just lost, Jimmy Hendricks and Jim Morrison among them, and to create space for what I felt would be the new guard, which I didn't really include myself. I was really anticipating people or bands like The Clash and the Ramones. I was anticipating in my mind that a new breed would come television, a new breed would come and they would be less materialistic, more bonded with the people, and not so glamorous.

I wasn't thinking so much of music. I wasn't thinking so much of perfection or stardom or I had this mission and I thought I would do this record and then go back to my right. and my drawing and, you know, return to my, you know, my somewhat abnormal, normal life. But horses took me on a whole different path. Is there a track from horses that particularly illustrates what you were describing as what your mission was? Birdland. Okay. I think Birdland, because for various reasons, birdland was. an improvisation, build on an improvisation.

It so much exemplifies the communication of my band, especially between Richard Lenny and I. And it speaks of this new breed. You know, the new generations who will be dreaming in animation, you know, the new generations that will race across the fields no longer president. but profits. That was my it was like my telegram to the new breed. Oh, let's hear it.

This is Birdland from Patty Smith's first album, Horses. Keeleyam raving, and this movie is mine. So he cried out as he stretched the sky, pushing it all out like Lake Dick's cartoon. Am I alone? This generation, we'll just be dreaming. animation night and day it won't let up won't let up and i see them coming in oh i couldn't hear them before that i hear now it's a radar scope and all silver and platinum lights moving in like black ships

they were moving in streams of him and he put up his hands and he said it's me it's me i'll give you my eyes take me Oh, now, please, take me up. Robert Mapplethorpe did the very iconic photograph for the cover of horses. What impact do you think that photo had on how people perceived you? Well, I, you know, I don't know. I know people really liked it. I know the record company didn't. They didn't?

That's such a great photo. Why didn't the record company like it? Because my hair was messy because, you know, it just, it was a little incomprehensible to them at the time. But I fought for it, and they did try to airbrush my hair, but I made sure that was fixed. People were very upset constantly about my appearance when I was young. I don't know what it was. You know, they just, it was very hard for them to fact. But I've always had that problem.

Even as a child, you know, I used to go to the beach when I was a little kid and just want to wear my dungarees and my flannel shirt. And the whole time, people would be, why are you wearing that? Why don't you get a bathing suit? You know, why are, it's like, leave me alone. It's just like, I'm not bothering you. Why are you worried about, you know, what I look like, you know. It's just, I'm not trying to bother anybody. But people love the photograph.

The people on the streets love the photograph. And it gave Robert some instant attention. I think it was his, you know, where he, it really helped, you know, launch his work into the public consciousness. And so we were both very happy about that. And the funniest thing, and sort of the sweetest thing, was when I started performing after the record came out, I would go to clubs anywhere. It could be Denmark, could be in Youngstown, Ohio. And I would come on stage and at least half of the kids had white shirts and black ties on.

It was kind of cool. We were all, we all had suddenly turned Catholic. Patty Smith, speaking with Terry Gross in 2010. There's a new 50th anniversary edition of her debut album Horses, now out on Legacy Recordings. She also has a new memoir titled Bread of Angels. Coming up, we remember actress Diane Ladd, who died Monday at the age of 89. This is fresh air. Actress Diane Ladd died Monday at the age of 89.

Her most famous film roles include Martin Scorsese's Alice doesn't live here anymore, in which she played the foul-mouthed southern waitress flow. Here she is, telling customers to leave the other waitress alone. Everybody can see she's got big s' on her, but hands off, let the girl do her work. If there's going to be any grab-assing around here, grab mine, Steve. You can look, but don't you touch. And David Lynch is wild at heart in which she played a former beauty queen who hires a hitman to kill her daughter's boyfriend. The boyfriend is played by Nicholas Cage.

Here he is, calling the house to talk to her daughter. Can I talk to Lula? There's no way in hell that you're going to talk to her. If you even think about Sianlula, you're dead. What? You heard me. And don't you ever call here again? Lad's real-life daughter, Laura Dern, played her daughter in the film.

They worked together again in mother-daughter roles in the film Rambling Rose, and both were nominated for Academy Awards. They continued in that pairing in the HBO. series enlightened. In 2023, Terry Gross spoke with Laura Dern. The actress had just written a book about conversations with her mother. It grew out of her mother's diagnosis of lung disease, when the doctor had given her six months to live. He suggested that walks might help increase her lung capacity, so Dern began taking her mother on 15-minute walks every day. What is something that you asked her on these walks that you don't think you otherwise

might have asked her. That was important for you to hear about. Well, my mom says, we both thought I was dying, so we spilled the beans. And most of us, within our own family, particularly, don't spill the beans. Or we wait till it's too late and say, oh, I wish I'd asked them this or that. And what shocked me as I would start to engage her in topics is how little I had asked this only child, single mother who raised me an only child. And yet, I hadn't asked her, why did you from this tiny town in Mississippi think I'm going to be an actor? That's what I want to. do? What was the first movie that inspired you? Who were the actors you fell in love with? Given that I became an actor as well, and we worked together, as you mentioned a number of times, wouldn't that

be a natural conversation? It never came up. Things as seemingly mundane as favorite foods, favorite colors, favorite flowers that were just to pass the time, it moved me so much. How little the people in our most intimate relationships, how little we ask. And I know her emotionally, but I never asked where those feelings stemmed from. I want to play a scene you did with your mother in the HBO series, Enlightened. I'm not going to set up the whole story. I will just say that you had basically a raging, nervous breakdown at work. And you go off to rehab in Hawaii where you learn to meditate and you return home changed by it. You know, you've learned to meditate to calm the rage and anger and to center yourself and focus.

And you come home with an exercise that you're supposed to write a letter to somebody who you have difficulty communicating with. So you come home and your mother, who's played by your mother, Diane Ladd, is there. and here's the scene where you start reading her the letter that you were told to write in rehab. Mother, they have asked me to write a letter to the person I have the most difficulty communicating with. It was not hard for me to decide who that person is. How long is this going to take?

Do you have somewhere to be? No, I just want to know how long this is going to take. Not long. I'm, I've just got to read you what's on these papers. Well, I can read, honey. But I'm supposed to read it to you, mom. That's the point. Okay, Amy.

You and I have been through a lot. Dad's death, all of Bethany's issues, my divorce, money problems. You name it, we have dealt with it. I know I have disappointed you in many ways. And yes, there have been times that you have disappointed me. But I want to change that. And I truly believe that we can change. And if we can change, anything is possible.

If we can change, the whole world can change for the better. I don't know what that means, honey. Mom, can you just let me finish? And we'll talk after. Is this what they asked you to do up there? One of the things, yeah. And what medications did they give you? Mom, nothing. I'm off my medication.

Well, why on Earth? Mom, I don't want to talk about my medications. I'm here reading you. I just want to be sure that you are okay. Okay. Look, don't get irritated with me because I just want what's best for you. That is all I have ever wanted. Such a beautiful scene about miscommunication and not understanding each other

and having like a different approach to expressing things. When you work with your mother, as you've done several times, Does it make you self-conscious because you know each other so well? It's not like a professional relationship because you have the deepest personal relationship anybody has. Well, first of all, thank you for playing that scene. I'm just smiling and cracking up over here as I'm listening to it because it is the extraordinary writing of Mike White who, you know, just... He's great, yes.

navigated the complexity of that dynamic, as you mentioned. And, you know, in the book, in our conversations, my mom talked about the joy she had remembering the first time we worked together on Wild at Heart, the first film we did together, and we had to do this very emotional scene. And she remembered me preparing for the scene at one end of the set. And she said, and her at the other, both doing our work, both having trained separately as professionals, you know, not engaged in that together. And then coming together to do this very emotional scene. And the camera rolls and David Lynch called action and it's very emotional and I'm crying

in her arms and he said, cut. And mom describes us pulling away and her looking in my eyes and realizing that she knew exactly what had brought up the emotion in me. And I looked at her and felt I knew the emotion and the pain. She was expressing in the scene, both very personal, both never discussed, but we just know each other so well. And so at that moment, we started laughing hysterically right after this big crying scene. And mom describes the whole crew looking at us as if we were nuts, but it was such a personal, intimate, beautiful thing to share the kind of knowing and bringing it into this professional space, but also the boundaries of that professional space, that it's

sort of this unspoken language. So you wouldn't ask your mother, what were you thinking of when you made that scene? Exactly. And yet we knew. And yet we knew and never discussed it. Yeah. Laura Dern, speaking with Terry Gross in 2023. Her mother, Diane Ladd, died Monday at the age of 89. Coming up, I review Pluribus, the new Apple TV Plus series from Vince Gilligan, creator of Breaking Bad. This is fresh air. Vince Gilligan, the creator of Breaking Bad and co-creator of Better Call Saul, has a new series

called Pluribus. It stars Ray Seahorn from Better Call Saul, and the first two of its nine episodes premiere tonight on Apple TV Plus. Seven of the nine were made of a very video. for preview, and I've seen them all. But I want you to have as much fun watching Pluribus as I did, so I'm going to say as little as possible about what happens in them. Apple TV Plus already has renewed Pluribus for his season two, and it's a smart move. Vince Gilligan, once again, has come up with a boldly brilliant TV series. The best way to describe Pluribus, without revealing

anything, is to think of it as an episode of the Twilight Zone spun off into its own series. It begins with scientists monitoring a radio telescope and discovering something new and exciting. It's got to be something bouncing off the... It's not bouncing off the moon, Dave. Maybe it's those Chattie Kathy's at the Forest Service. I hate those guys, always on their radios, talking about trees. Dave, it's not smoking bear. We're picking up. Look at that signal. It's drifting.

What is it, then? Looks like simple pulse width modulation. Old school like Morse code. Maybe somehow it's the time signal out of four columns. They use pulse width modulation. It's not the atomic clock. The atomic clock changes every minute because it's a clock. This is the same exact data repeated every 78 seconds.

Plus, this is coming from 600 light years away. That's similar to the way another fantasy drama series three-body problem began recently. But this new series has other plots and plot twists on its mind. Before too long, we meet the protagonist of Pluribus. She's Carol Sturka, best-selling author of sexy, sappy sci-fi fantasy novels. And she's played by Ray Seahorn, who was so unforgettable as Kim Wexler in Better Call Saw. We meet Carol at a Barnes & Noble in Dallas,

reading from her book to her adoring fans, then signing copies and interacting with them before retreating with her agent and best friend Helen to a local bar. At the bar, Helen, played by Miriam Shore, offers a toast to the new book tour. A toast Carol rejects. Best book tour, what is that?

Is that like Best stomach cancer? You endure it. You do not toast it. Oh, how I hate all those paying customers showering me with love and respect. And why do I have to make so much money? Where? How do you bear it? Carol has fame and money and a beautiful house back home in Albuquerque. Yes, once again, Gilligan and Company have returned there to film parts of this new series.

But all that doesn't seem to make her happy. And when people around her suddenly start acting very strangely, she feels even more isolated. Apple TV Plus, in its own press materials, describes the premise of Pluribus this way. The most miserable person on earth, it says, must save the world from happiness. And even if I wanted to elaborate, the streaming services press restrictions on spoilers make it next to impossible. I've never seen such a long, detailed list of plot points not to reveal. But I don't mind. If you stick with the Twilight Zone analogy, you'll notice echoes in Pluribus from various classic Zone episodes.

A woman all alone in her home fighting against a mysterious enemy surrounding her. A woman fighting against a society that wants her to conform and act just like them. A man all alone with buildings and streets deserted trying to survive. And so on. Vince Gilligan was a writer and producer on The X-Files, and his love of the genre comes through loud and clear here, like a radio signal from across the universe. and what he's doing in pluribus while having fun with themes from the Twilight Zone

and classic sci-fi films like Invasion of the Body Snatchers somehow is paradoxically bordering on unique yes he and his creative team of writers and directors dip into Gilligan's familiar bag of tricks beautiful photography long extended set pieces and montages intense and lengthy conversations among characters But the way those characters are introduced and dealt with here, and the way the plot widens and deepens to say so much about so many big-idea topics, it's as singularly and hypnotically odd in its way as Twin Peaks was.

It's disturbing, unpredictable, and alternately funny and creepy. And while Ray Seahorn doesn't carry all of the weight of Pluribus, other co-stars, including Carolina Wydra and Carlos Manoran, well Vesca are wonderful too. Her Carol is a character you'll relate to, laugh at, and buy into completely. The opening episode, written and directed by Gilligan, takes her on a wild and crazy ride, and we go right along with her. And Gilligan and Pluribus ask a larger question as well. Fighting for life and liberty, that's a given. But what if the pursuit of happiness is vastly overrated, maybe even dangerous.

On Monday's show, Academy Award winner Tim Robbins talks about Topsie Turvey, the new play he wrote in response to pandemic isolation. From the Shawshank Redemption to founding the actors' gang, Robbins discusses how his commitment to creating politically relevant art has shaped his four-decade career. I hope you can join us. To keep up with what's on the show and get highlights of our interviews, follow us on Instagram at NPR Fresh Air. Fresh Air's executive producer is Danny Miller.

Sam Brigger is our managing producer. Our senior producer today is Roberta Shorak. Our technical director and engineer is Audrey Bentham, with additional engineering support by Joyce Lieberman, Julian Hertzfeld, and Deanna Martinez. Our interviews and reviews are produced and edited by Phyllis Meyer, Anne-Marie Baldinado, Lauren Crenzel, Teresa Madden, Monique Nazareth, Thea Chaliner, Susan Yacundi, and Anna Bauman. Our digital media producer is Molly C.V. Nesper. Hope Wilson is our consulting visual producer. For Terry Gross and Tanya Mosley, I'm David B. Incouli.