Live Review: Cat Power

The hushed atmosphere inside this glorious venue clearly intimidates Cat Power (aka Chan Marshall) as she arrives on stage looking like there's no ironing facilities in her hotel. Throughout her first song, which she sings into twin mics, Marshall whispers instructions to a stage-left sound tech and winds up walking over there after the song to better communicate her desires. Marshall's plectrum-less style is raw as she strums while hiding underneath her long fringe.  

When she wanders behind the piano to take up her place on the stool, we wonder why she didn't walk in front of it. Let Me Go takes us back to those who got away. Delicately played, the tales of child abuse delivered via Names are heartbreaking. We're grateful we can see her face reflected in the piano to assist with our connection. To look at Marshall, you couldn't imagine the sounds would come out right — she has an ungainly piano-playing style, with very flat palms, that would've met the sting of our piano teacher's ruler. Marshall shares memories of various school teachers, singling out one who repeatedly mispronounced her name during roll call ("Train" is the way it sounds when she mimics said teacher). She's fragile up there on her own, coughs a lot and apologises that her voice isn't very strong tonight. She plays musical phrases that flow ahead of her singing.

Audience members clap or whoop as the intros to their favourite songs are recognised. Marshall fidgets — microphone half an inch this way; half an inch back the other way — and apologises constantly, simply saying the word "sorry" in scattered directions. She repeatedly sings/inquires, "Can I get a witness?" and we eventually get the hint; a few "whoo" support before there's a cheering extended outburst of encouragement. Sometimes it feels as if she's working it out as she goes. Marshall's rendition of a segment of Burt Bacharach's What The World Needs Now Is Love comes from a painfully personal place.    

Wandering back around behind the piano to retrieve her guitar, Marshall portrays the melancholy Good Woman; her voice sounds like a woodwind instrument. At show's conclusion, the audience are on their feet applauding wildly and cheering. Marshall remains on stage, bowing in all different directions, touching her heart every now and then. Tonight hasn't come easily for her, but her generosity of spirit ensures all assembled experience something special.