Live Review: Cat Power & Mick Turner

Seated among a host of pedals and loops, a bespectacled Mick Turner, furrowed in concentration as he performs understated, experimental rock, goes largely unnoticed early. It's as though no one recognises him as the legendary Australian guitarist of Dirty Three fame, nor sometime Cat Power collaborator who played on her Melbourne recorded 1998 magnum opus Moon Pix. To be fair on the rude-as-fuck yappers though, Turner does make for an odd opening choice.

Pushing an hour, the wait for Chan Marshall, aka the predictably unpredictable Cat Power, finally gives way to Bob Dylan's Shelter From The Storm, a walk-on song that doesn't produce the desired effect. Individually Marshall's new band – a trio of ladies with long-time collaborator Gregg Foreman – take to the stage; they're well into the introduction of The Honeydrippers' Sea Of Love before Marshall rolls in, forgetting words, already offering the mic to the crowd and eyeing guitarist/keyboardist Foreman when anything doesn't quite sound right. Fleecing a punter of a cigarette, Marshall detours Rowland S Howard's Shivers into INXS' Never Tear Us Apart, before a languid arrangement of The Greatest has her crouching on the edge of the stage, close to tears. She's incredibly real – raw and emotional to the point where it's sometimes difficult to watch for fear of meeting her crowd-prowling eyes. Navigating through a set largely devoted to her latest record Sun, Marshall smiles quickly and often, winking and scrunching her expressive face, relying heavily on an expert band communicating through well-honed looks and body language. Through a sweetly clean vocal, she complements the keys and blips of Manhattan with hisses and howls, and literally apes the close of 3, 6, 9 as guitarist Adeline Fargier busies herself with soaring, looped backing vocals. Adding chants and percussive accents, Nico Turner could be Andrew Stockdale's female dopplegager, though most importantly the multi-instrumentalist adds further layers to Marshall's beautifully impulsive vocal that often drops expertly behind the beat. From her Perspex enclosed kit, drummer Alianna Kalaba prepares for the defining moment of the set with a wash of cymbals, giving way to the sensual, backlit glow of Marshall's silhouette wrenching every moment of feeling from the Spanish language Jukebox bonus track Angelitos Negros with vitality and class. The drive of Ruin's quick-fire, confident lyricism is a crowd favourite, helped by lashings of gifted roses from an overwhelmed Marshall before the piercing, eastern riff and chugging rhythm of Sun closer Peace And Love concludes an affecting, roller-coaster of a set from a resplendent vocalist and performer all too willing to share herself tonight. As the house lights and music usher away her band, Marshall holds court with a clutch of cigarette-wielding fans long after most leave, tickled by her parting words, “Fucking Brisbane… I love you motherfuckers.”