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.

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

The Top 73 Albums 'In Order'

Sure, you can comment here all you want about what's turnin' you on or about why it's taken me months to post a new picture of Chan Marshall....Or you can list your top 73 albums at Mark Prindle's Record Review site. Per Mark: you have to do them "in order," so there's a little bit of work on your part. And you have to format it just right, or he gets real pissy and starts hacking into your computer.

Just kidding.

After you've got your list together, send the results to him. Prindle will then spends hours compiling the data after he's spent hours surfing the internet for sexy pee videos. Then, he'll display the watersports videos on his website.

Just kidding.

He'll put the list together and the world will rejoice at "The Top 73 Albums In Order."

So have fun and send him your favorites before some douchebag gets their friends together and starts stacking the ballots for H.I.M. or Hinder or Bloodrock.

Here's the information about the survey.

And here's the first picture of Chan Marshall for 2007:

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-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.