Cat Power - Sun

The story goes that when Chan Marshall set off to begin the follow up to the positively hard to follow up The Greatest, she presented a friend with some demos of the proceedings. She could tell that the new material didn’t grab her friend in quite the manner that she wanted it to, and after some additional probing, Ms. Marshall learned that the new songs sounded pretty much like the old ones.

And Chan Marshall was tired of sounding like the “old” Cat Power.

More power to her, pun intended, as the process of avoiding stagnation has given rock and roll some of its best moments.

It has also given it some of its worst, and the risk for epic failure gets greater when artists begin to incorporate other styles and genres that are way beyond their limits. For example: Bob Mould may be a fine dj on the weekends, but that doesn’t mean he makes a mean EDM record.

More to the point, it doesn’t mean that I want to hear a Bob Mould EDM album either. I want my musical heroes to be brave enough to listen to that bit of self-doubt in their heads that says, “Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this.”

Chan Marshall shouldn’t be making records like Sun, plain and simple. That’s my opinion, and it comes from the same one that thinks The Greatest was a risky album on its own. It, and to a lesser extent Jukebox, positioned Chan into promising new direction. Instead, she has now squandered that promise into a half-baked record of songs that seem to insinuate that the recording session for Sun was nothing more than one big distraction.

There are beats, rhythms, vocoders, beeps, and other creations that seem to be the result of a shopping spree in the electronics area of Guitar Center. There’s no rhyme or reason to when and why these sounds are introduced in a song, so you’re left to assume that shit just kept getting added on until Chan finally had the empathy to say “Stick a fork in it. It’s done.”

The nonsense starts early. The opener, “Cherokee,” gradually brings the listeners into Chan’s left turn, starting with a shimmering guitar before the manufactured beats make their entrance.

And you know what? It’s ok for a moment. When Chan mutters “Never knew love like this,” she sounds like she’s one the other end of a dial-up internet connection. Big beats come in and things get a little shaky, but again, Marshall hides it with a great chorus of repeated “Marry me to the sky,” bringing a bit of a lyrical connection with the song title.

Then, at exactly 3:05 into “Cherokee,” the sound of a fucking hawk or some other bird comes in. Immediately, I was like “What the fuck was that?!”

I quickly rewound and discovered the truth, and it was at that moment that I decided that I didn’t like the new Cat Power album.

The title track is just an overloaded mess of processed vocals and I’ve even started to lose interest into the briefly infectious leadoff single, “Ruin.”

My wife, who owns quite a large collection of Glee product, declares “3, 6, 9” as “strangely good” while it only makes me say “I see what you did there!” What Marshall comes up with is a hooky bit of prose that repeats ad infinitim.

The darker moments are the best, and they will be the only moments that I’ll end up leaving in my playlist after this review posts. “Always On My Own” and “Human Being” are harrowing tales, but it’s “Manhattan” that serves as the best interpretation of Marshall’s desire to be different.

With it’s cheesy drum machine and simple, four-step piano phrase, Marshall double-tracks her voice with an emotive lead over her trademarked low-end mumble. “Don’t look at the moon tonight” she warns “It will never be Manhattan.”

How can I stay mad at a line like that? I can’t, but I can leave off a good chunk of Sun and wonder if this is the work of a woman who’s heart isn’t in it anymore. Because Sun sounds more like an obligation, if you ask me, with each and every electronic addition seemingly introduced to cover up the fact that the album has very little heart behind it.

It is a record that began with a notion that it needed to be different, when it should have been looked at as a record that needed to be better than The Greatest.

This review originally appeared in Glorious Noise.

Cat Power Releases "Ruins" Single

"Is it rolling, Bob?"

Dinosaur Jr. and Fucked Up gigs approaching, Morrissey announcing he’s playing the same spot Buddy Holly sang his last song, a brilliant new Spiritualized album, man, this is a great time to be alive.

And the icing on the cake is the announcement of a new Cat Power album, with the prerequisite teaser track/stream to get you all hot ‘n bothered found here.

To be honest, I was already hot ‘n bothered when I saw the artwork, featuring a Chan with short hair. It removes about ten years off her, and briefly hinted at the possibility that she would revert to her unpredictable ways, those years when any sudden movement spelled danger.

But a spin of “Ruins,” that aforementioned snigglet of what’s to come, quickly demonstrates that Cat Power is continuing down a path of accessibility and mainstream acceptance, while giving long time fans like myself just enough bizarre to make us yell “You go girl!”

Because I think it’d be a hoot to hear this thing on whenever kids congregate for popular music these days, particularly the part when she begins rattling off all the places she’s been to during the support tour for The Greatest.

And every single place she’s been to has been fucked in one way or another, culiminating in one large clusterfuck of destruction that’s slowly eating away at our planet.

“What are we doin’?” she asks during the chorus. “We’re sittin’ on a ruin” is the honest answer. So hell yeah, go on and preach that shit, sister Chan.

I gave it three immediate spins-one right after the other-and can clearly hear how this thing began, its origins clearly high the in the mix. But when the overdub chorus finds Chan singing harmony with herself, it’s pretty clear that she’s using her full capacities.

I smiled when she began mouthing the drum beats in the middle of the track, first high hat and then bass drum, a sneaky moment that’s lost on most casual listeners. So yeah, the weirdness is there. You just gotta listen for it.

Tears Are Falling: Cat Power-"Colors And The Kids"

Hey, whaddya know. Chan Marshall hints that the new Cat Power album will be more of a solo affair instead of a band effort. Either way, Chan, you could shit on some magnetic tape and I would buy the cd and DVD of the results.
As a matter of fact, I did; it was called Speaking With Trees.
But let’s go back to the amazing Moon Pix and a little ditty called “The Color & The Kids” that gets the tear glands agitated.
No seriously, there’s something in my eye.
It sounds like the two things in life that keeps Chan from staying in the garage with the car running are 1.) Colors, those visual hues that we see unless we’re unfortunately colorblind and 2.) little munchkins between the ages of 2 and 12 that test our patience, dirty our carpet, and require you to wipe their ass for a couple of years.
As a parent, I understand the appeal, but this record was released before I began spraying semen everywhere, with the hopes of impregnating a willing partner.
Wait, bad analogy.
But I think you get the idea, there’s something about those little shits that get your heartstrings chiming.
“Colors And The Kids” is a heart-wrenching tale about someone with “slender arms” and “slender fingers,” the kind of person that you want to be with because they make you a fucking better person.
“I could stay here,” she says, but her voice breaks during the next line “Become someone different/I could stay here/Become someone better.”
How many times have you been in a relationship where you promise yourself that you’ll be able to change only to find out that all of your faults and idiosyncrasies are fucking permanent.
Like your hair color, the records in your collection, the way in which you eat M&Ms, they’re part of your fucking dna.
And it breaks my heart when I hear Chan plead in desperation. Because when the love that you want to keep doesn’t feel the same way, it’s hard to see the full list of your reasons for living.
But colors and kids is a start.

Cat Power - Jukebox

I think it is important to begin this review by admitting that I have more jpeg images on my hard drive of Chan Marshall than I do of my wife. Now before you label me as a creepy fanboy of Ms. Marshall, understand that I’ve only been married a year now, had my laptop for nearly four years, and been a fan of Cat Power for even longer. I would also like to point out that pictures of my kids trump the jpeg totals of my wife and Chan by a long shot.
After this, you’re probably assuming that I’m going to loft a heapin’ helpin’ of praise on Marshall’s second collection of covers, Jukebox, and my friends, you’d be absolutely correct. However, I do believe that I’m able to discern my infatuation with the aural reality that Jukebox is a brave collection of remakes that continues to reaffirm how Marshall has become one of the consummate voices of her generation.
The journey to that point is a great tale, but it’s hard not to miss those early albums of frailty and to miss in an almost curious way those days where on-stage breakdowns were part of the allure. That fragility was also documented well on her studio albums, but starting with the brilliant The Greatest, Chan transitioned herself into a full-fledged performer, arguably as strong a vocalist as Dusty Springfield with that last album being just as good as Dusty In Memphis.
Even though Jukebox isn’t on the same level as The Greatest (it isn’t meant to be), it does point to the fact that it is time that we start providing Chan Marshall with the respect that she is due as a performer. While the covers record displayed her as a unique interpreter of other’s material, Jukebox takes steps in making other’s material her own.
It stumbles out of the gate, with a run-through rendition of “New York,” that’s essentially two minutes of trying to sound novel while being little more than an idea that’s better left on the drawing board.
I’m also a bit underwhelmed with the update of “Metal Heart,” perhaps my favorite Cat Power song of all time, which means that it may have been destined to fail before the ‘record’ button was even hit. The Moon Pix version was a testament of beautiful imperfection. The Jukebox version brings a newfound strength to the arrangement, which ironically weakens it in the process. As admirable as the original idea may have been, this is another selection that was better left untouched.
Then there are those that work: Hank Williams’ “Ramblin’ (Wo)man,” James Brown’s “Lost Someone” and Jessie Mae Hemphill’s “Lord, Help The Poor And Needy” are all challenging choices and they’re perfectly executed with heavy reverb and minimalist arrangements.
Marshall takes on one of Bob Dylan’s lesser known tracks, “I Believe In You” (from Slow Train Coming), originally a declaration of his new found Christianity, but turned into a Stonesy-stomp that will have you contemplating what else you may have missed when Bobby was walking in the presence of the Lord.
But the jem is “Silver Stallion,” a Lee Clayton track later covered by The Highwaymen. Under a gently strummed acoustic and haunted by a background slide guitar, Marshall’s smoky baritone ends up delivering the track in a definitive light.
Marshall is primarily backed by the Dirty Delta Blues Band, who are admittedly less tactful than the Memphis Rhythm Band on The Greatest. But what they lack in refinement, they excel in consent: The Memphis Rhythm Band provided Chan with the esteem boost that she needed in order to become as strong as she appears now. The Dirty Delta Blues Band allows her enough space to go explore her newfound authority.
And, aside from a few small stumbles, Jukebox demonstrates that she is well suited for this role and hearing her take control of her talent is an enriching experience.
So ignore my penchant for visual aids that capture Chan’s splendor. Her real beauty is what she can do with a song.

This review originally appeared in Glorious Noise

Open Letter To Chan Marshall

Chan:
What's up? I couldn't help but notice that you seem, how do I put this, positively happy as of late. We all have problems, and from what I've read, you've had your share too. Christ, it was less than a year ago when I last saw you and I was more than pleased that you decided to spend a little over an hour with me. Sure, there were a few moments there when I thought you were going to bail, but you held it together. Then there was the planned tour with the backing band from "The Greatest" and the subsequent news that the tour was cancelled because, well, just because. From what I understood: you needed some time to sort some shit out and to get healthy. I wasn't expecting you to get happy.
The first indication was your performance on The Late Show. You looked thinner, tanner, and healthier. More unsettling was the fact that you actually smiled.
And now you've gone and released a new video for "Lived In Bars" where you're kissing patrons, dancing on tables, and seem genuinely pleased to be making a commercial for your song. It's kind of freaking me out.
Now before you assume that I'm just one of those fanboys who likes it when you're down, let me say this: I think "The Greatest" is indeed your greatest. And I'm extremely happy that you're happy. I'm just having some trouble with the whole 180 you've done in such a short amount of time. What's going on here? Is it possible that being drug free can bring that kind of happiness? I mean, where do I sign up?! Admittedly, my life has made its own turns for the better since we first met; Shit, you should have seen the state I was in around the release of "Moon Pix!" But damn girl, this extreme makeover thing is getting downright creepy.
Don't forget where you came from, k. I mean, what would the community think?
Much love,
T. Totale

Cat Power - The Greatest

I’ve been holding on to this thing over a month now and I can’t really keep it to myself anymore. I’m talking about the upcoming Cat Power release The Greatest, schedule for official release in January. Being the obsessive Cat Power fan I acquired the leaked copy illegally, but rest assured, I plan on legally purchasing the album when it’s released. And not just because I’m an obsessive Cat Power fan; I’m purchasing it because it’s fucking awesome. As it stands, The Greatest is the best album of 2006, and the year hasn’t even begun yet.
For the album, Chan surrounded herself with accomplished and well-versed Memphis musicians who give it an unprecedented feel and sound. The Greatest finally provides Chan’s voice with a complementary backdrop and gives her, for the first time ever, some soul to share.
Marshall’s songs still bear the primitive feel of her earlier work. The arrangements roll alongside her, almost metaphorically like the Mississippi that borders Memphis. What’s strange is that this isn’t the first time she’s recorded in Memphis. Actually, Cat Power’s second album What Would The Community Think was recorded there. Stuart Sikes, who engineered that album (and who most recently mixed Loretta Lynn's "Van Lear Rose" release) returns to the Cat Power camp as the Producer for this release. The end result is not only Cat Power’s most polished record to date, it’s also her most comfortable sounding one.
Marshall starts the album with one of her best written songs, the title track “The Greatest.”
“Once I wanted to be the greatest
No wind or waterfall could stop me
And then came the rush of the flood
The stars at night turned you to dust”
This song sets the bar high for the entire album and throughout the record, she continually delivers and exceeds expectations. The Greatest is the album that us Cat Power fans have been waiting for and it finally demonstrates her talent completely. We no longer have to make excuses for her and we no longer have to explain the idiosyncrasies that have plagued her image and performances in the past. With every meltdown from now on, we have The Greatest to fall back on as a demonstration of what she can actually do with her talent with the right musicians and with the right formula.
Once again, but the arrangements provide her with subtle nuances that previous backing musicians haven’t been able to accomplish. Take The Dirty Three who backed her on Moon Pix. Their performances seemed to almost complement her depressive traits. This Memphis bunch, instead, bring a real depth to her emotions. From the light and somewhat joyous second track, “Could We,” Hi Records guitarist Teenie Hodges slinks along with the same effort as he did on the most famous song he helped compose, “Take Me To The River.”
They transform “Willie Deadwilder” (now titled as just “Willie”) into an airy stroll that knocks off about ten minutes from the original version on “Speaking For Trees.” While that original version brought tears to my eyes, there’s a strange sense of hope when she declares

“now my heart is a worried thing

memories are planted there

the seeds of the field

I now want to reap and sow.”

Sure, the words have been edited a tad, but the overall theme remains the same. It’s the effort of her Memphis band that transforms this song into something new, something extraordinary.
“Hate” revisits traditional Cat Power ground by using only a primitive strumming of Chan’s Danelectro guitar as the accompaniment. But because the track comes late in the disc, the impact of this song is more noticeable.
“Living Proof” manages to do something never accomplished before in Cat Power albums: it gets a little funky. “You’re supposed to have the answer/you’re supposed to have living proof” she says on the track, and the answer is The Greatest is the best Cat Power album yet and it should be referred to by music fans for years to come in the same way that we praised Dusty Springfield for making her own way to Memphis over 35 years ago. Let’s hope Chan doesn’t make the mistake that Dusty did and never return back to these surroundings that have obviously lit a spark to her muse and helped her talent truly flourish.

Cat Power-Live Review

It was there. The proverbial pink elephant: would we witness another, much documented Chan Marshall meltdown on stage? It was a conversation heard more than once. And it’s becoming the equivalent to ambulance chasing. With her performance Saturday night at the Canopy Club in Urbana, Illinois, you literally had over half in attendance that believed they could see Chan breakdown; they provided enough silence to hear every exhale from the artist, waiting on baited breath to consider what she might do next. What she did was deliver a set of such quality that we were all politely reminded us why we wanted to hear a complete show.
We arrived at the club about an hour before showtime. After we walked away from the locked entrance, the SLF noticed a woman getting out of a Ford sedan. It was Chan. Three Asian boys noticed her too and took advantage of the moment to approach. She was cordial to them and politely shook their hands. I backed off, providing her with an adequate distance that she requires. I think. They only thing I had to go on was her “don’t be in love with the autograph” line.
Fast forward 90 minutes and a handful of Chan faithful (including the Asian fellows) waited for the doors to the club opened. When they finished soundcheck, the doors opened and we were allowed inside. Now this was quite a different scene since the last concert I saw at the Canopy Club: Iggy Pop. There was no seating for that show, as the concrete slab in front of the stage became perfect exclamation points for the mouthbreathers. For Cat Power, simple, white wooden folding chairs were arranged, I’m assuming on request by the promoter, in neat rows in front of the stage. I’d gather that the sight of a few hundred standing gawkers could prove to be a little unsettling. Why not be proactive and make ‘em sit down like a proper audience?

The SLF and I scored a major coup with the seating as we landed at a nice table, with a nice view, and with frequent visits by the wait staff. The only real problem for us was having to endure “Dexter,” the Chan picked opening act whose last name was never uttered by him and muttered by her. I have no idea where he’s from but have a good idea that I’ll never want to see him live again. “Dex” played some pretty amateur piano and guitar while singing songs about the “darkness in (his) soul.” There was something wrong with the guy besides putting on a very dismal performance. He thanked Chan for inviting him and told us that he was making $200 for his efforts. The fucker played for over 45 minutes. Because he got paid and played for over 15 minutes, he owes me a drink. I’m serious about that too.
By 8:45, Chan finally walked on stage to a simple piano and her familiar Danelectro guitar. A hundred watt combo amp was mic’d and heavy on the reverb. The crowd offered a nice applause hello before quickly going silent as Chan sat down and immediately moved the stage monitor in front of her. It was like they were expecting her to fly off the handle at that moment while she blew her breath out in a form of nervous release. It was a tense moment and unlike anything I ever experienced at a performance. But then it hit.
She masterfully started a reverb-drenched backbeat with the heel of her foot while fingering out a repeated rhythm on her guitar. Chan’s voice was barely over a whisper at times, which made the emphasized phrases even more dramatic. I counted over a half a dozen new tracks from the upcoming release “The Greatest,” but it would be impossible for me to provide a complete setlist to this performance. Songs would peter out and then you’d find her starting a new song. It almost appeared like she was purposely making it hard for the audience to applaud her. Or maybe it was that’s the way she’d go about it if in the presence of friends around the moonlight.
Which was exactly the lighting for the entire show: dimly lit blue lights made it harder to see the details of her face, particularly the farther away you were from the stage. From a distance, I’m sure it gave the aura of a ghost. And the music, for sure, was just as haunting.
Chan abruptly put her guitar down and turned to play her piano. In what looked to be a typical music classroom piano, she would often use the creaks and thumps of the foot pedals for percussionary means. I’m convinced that this technique never appeared contrived, but instead a primal reaction to the music that was being played.
All of the new tracks were awesome. They sound very developed and it will be interesting to hear them with the help of some Memphis alumni. Tonight, they were as primitive as the day they were written.
“Willie Deadwilder” has been reduced and restructured from its “Speaking Of Trees” origin, and “Good Woman” was given a passionate workout. I counted two other selections from “You Are Free” (“I Don’t Blame You” and a truncated “Names”) while covers rounded out the rest of the set. And as we learned with “The Covers Record,” Chan can really turn a cover song into one of her own. She did it that night with Johnny Cash’s “Hey Porter” a nice medley of “All I Have To Do Is Dream” + “Blue Moon,” and the fantastic closer “House Of The Rising Son.”
Through it all, Chan repeatedly apologized: sorry for the request for more reverb in her monitor, sorry for asking that the lights be turned down even more, sorry for finally asking that her vocals be removed from the monitors entirely.
It added up to some heartfelt drama, perfectly accented by her introspective renditions. I’ve never seen a more capable artist look so utterly frightened by her own perception. Thankfully, the crowd was very respectful and quiet throughout the entire performance. At the end of “Rising Sun,” Chan quickly rose, thanked the audience, and walked off stage. Almost instantaneously, the house lights turned on and we understood that an hour and fifteen minutes was all that we’d receive. It was more than I expected.

I Have A Thing For Cat Power

So you’re asking yourself: “Todd, what’s the deal with you and Cat Power?” I suppose the first exposure came with hearing the song “Cross Bones Style” from the album “Moon Pix” shortly after it was released. I took a chance at bought the album and it took a few spins before I could tolerate the haphazard rhythms, repetitive chord progressions and a hair above functional guitar playing. It was Chan Marshall’s voice that kept it in the cd player until I finally felt at ease with the disc. And then I got depressed.
Which is a common thing for any Cat Power listener to have after hearing “Moon Pix” considering the fact that the album’s lyrics, pacing, and husky vocals are all contributors to a very dark theme. Consider the track “Colors And The Kids” which begins dark enough with a repeated piano refrain, and then completely sucker punches you with the lyric “I could stay here/become someone different/I could stay here/become someone better.” Real heart wrenching shit.

I guess you could say that it got me on a Cat Power kick. My ex-wife would get pissed that I listened to the record so much. She was convinced that it had something to do with an attraction to Chan Marshall. The funny thing is that I had only seen one picture of her at that point, and her face was totally obscured by hair. Later on, I got an eyeful as to what Chan really looks like underneath those bangs.
There was an interview I read with her in The Big Takeover that totally pegged her as an unstable character. Her live shows were notorious for being very stressful situations: Chan would sometimes get paralyzed by fear in mid-set and even had fans help her regain composure at one performance. In the interview, Chan would often drift off topic and try to explain strange situations in her life. A story, a myth were now created in my perception.
In Omaha, Nebraska, I told the dread locked black man that I was really digging “Moon Pix” and he made a point to recommend her first e.p. That effort, while rhythmically stronger, is tough to get a hold on and may I admit that if the thing was beyond an e.p. I’d totally get bored with it. The record actually cooled my heals a little towards Cat Power, but I recovered after hearing their incredible cover of “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction.” I’m being totally serious; it may rival Devo’s version of “Satisfaction” even though it’s world’s apart from it.
From there, I was throwing back “Myra Lee” and “What Would The Community Think” whenever I stumbled into it. Both albums are fine as Chan starts honing her chops and lyrics, laying the groundwork for something special, the album that is “Moon Pix.”
For some reason, I’ve got this who Omaha/Cat Power connection because I was, again, at the same record store with the dread locked dude and it had an ample supply of “You Are Free” for the album’s first week of release. This effort has noticeably better production that her prior efforts, but not to the point where there’s fucking sugar water making the counter sticky. At points, Chan sounds somewhat happy, but lest you forget the entire thing kicks off with a revisiting of Kurt Cobain’s suicide with just four simple words: I don’t blame you.

There’s no real diagnosis on Chan Marshall’s mental state, but she’s functioning enough to keep her head musically. Her allure is this entire “girl in trouble” guise and it seems that she may become one of those cult reclusive after she really starts to feel when the “music is boring me to death.”
She played in Omaha a week after I left. Such timing. The irony is that I was in the area for a funeral when I purchased “You Are Free” and was bummed that I was going to miss the concert. Why couldn’t the silly bastard die a week later?
So now comes word that Cat Power has quietly released “Speaking For Trees,” a two-hour movie dvd and single song music cd. What makes the film unique is that it’s composed of one two hour long shot featuring Chan playing a Danelectro outside among the trees. With wind and crickets as her only accompaniment, she performs a selection of songs, sometimes repeated, in front of a blurred camera. It sounds pretentious in writing, but viewing the performance (admittedly, this is one you won’t be playing frequently) is a very distant affair. The “statement” made is actually no statement at all; this is as personal as you can get with Chan Marshall and playing to the trees seems spontaneous enough (and genuine enough) to avoid the highbrow curse.
The song, “Willie Deadwilder,” will become Cat Power’s “Dark Star.” As actual performances become even more scarce, fans will be able to impress other fanatics with tales of hearing this 18-minute epic in the flesh. It follows no real structure and like the video disc that it shares, sounds extemporaneous, free, and repetitive.
For Cat Power fan, “Speaking For Trees“ retains the mystery of Chan Marshall and it‘s an opportunity to get a very minimalist view of her talent. She clearly is motivated by her own muse and seems determine to follow her own path. “Speaking For Trees“ will not increase any additional traffic on that path, but those willing to travel with her can at least enjoy the scenery.