MUSIC REVIEW: CAT POWER AT THE APOLLO

Her Voice Would Cut Clear Through The Darkness

By: Vanessa Machir

February 11, 2009

When I first started listening to her, about six years ago, indie songstress Cat Power (a.k.a. Chan Marshall) was putting out austere, melancholy tunes and battling stage-fright (I once read she actually performed a concert with her back to the audience). So naturally, when I saw an advertisement for her gig at Harlem’s Apollo Theater -- as famous for Amateur Night’s unforgiving audiences as for the charismatic African-American performers who made it great -- I assumed I was reading the poster wrong. Of course, I forgot to take her most recent incarnation into account — for 2006’s The Greatest, she assembled the Memphis Rhythm Band to back her up and re-styled herself as a kind of nouveau blues queen. Of late, she has taken to covering artists such as Billy Holiday, James Brown, and Nina Simone — all of whom performed at the Apollo. So maybe the choice of venue makes perfect sense.

She didn’t disappoint, especially those devotees of her new sound and inventive covers. She offered soulful renditions of Creedence Clearwater Revival’s "Fortunate Son," Bob Dylan’s "House of the Rising Sun," and The Highwaymen’s "Silver Stallion." In her hands, these songs became haunting lullabies. She also subjected some of her own songs to reinvention, offering blues-inspired covers of "Metal Heart" and "I Don’t Blame You."

Her stage-fright seems to have dissipated as well. That said, her performance was one of the quirkiest I have seen. She shuffled. She hopped. She paced the stage like a caged tiger. She hunched over, singing lyrics rapidly as if she were pleading with the audience. During one of her last songs, she decided to wander into the audience, leaving a tech person to chase after her, making sure her mic wire didn’t get tangled.

Though she clearly derives confidence from her new sound, her dedication to it didn’t always help her. Though her R&B-inspired backup band is excellent, sometimes the combination of two guitars, drums, and keyboard would simply overpower Marshall, so her trademark breathy voice couldn’t be heard.

She struck a perfect chord between vocals and instrumentals, however, with covers of Joni Mitchell's "Blue" and Jessie Mae Hemphill’s "Lord Help the Poor and Needy." During these songs, the lights would dim, one of her band members would leave their instrument and take up a tambourine or else start clapping to keep the beat, and her voice would cut clear through the darkness. It was during these songs I felt like I was intruding on an impromptu porch-side jam session somewhere south of the Mason-Dixon line. I think that was what she was aiming for all along.