The cat comes back

Sept. 30, 2006 | Prior to the arrival of this year's polished and sweetly upbeat "The Greatest," listening to any one of Chan Marshall's six previous records required bracing yourself to get seriously bummed out -- though, if you were depressed already, well, you weren't likely to find more soulful solace anywhere.

Marshall, the itinerant chanteuse who performs under the name Cat Power, chalks up her Southern gothic sensibility to an unusual and unstable Southern childhood in the '70s. "Did I grow up eating government cheese? Yes," she said during a recent interview with Salon. "Did I go dumpster diving while my parents were at Charlie Daniels Band concerts? Yes. And did I grow up in the tobacco fields of North Carolina and in youth groups singing Christian hymns? Yes."

Marshall, 34, got her start as a singer touring and collaborating with giants of the indie rock genre. After moving to New York from Atlanta, she opened a few shows for Liz Phair in 1994, signed to Matador Records soon thereafter, made a bona fide indie classic when she paired up with Dirty Three's Jim White and Mick Turner in 1998 for "Moon Pix," and later recorded with Eddie Vedder and Dave Grohl on 2003's more bombastic "You are Free." She became a critical favorite based on the strength of her recordings, and cultivated a cult following in spite of her legendarily unpredictable performances. In a 2004 New Yorker profile, the accompanying Richard Avedon photo revealed her for the helpless eccentric she is -- topless but hiding behind a Bob Dylan T-shirt, her jeans unbuttoned revealingly as if to say, There are still some taboos worth breaking here.

Her music inspires an intense, brooding intimacy, but listening to it at home is one thing and seeing her perform is another -- her notoriously spotty live shows have driven many fans to swear off seeing Cat Power altogether: "She's great. I love her. I can't ever see her again."

So when Marshall put on two sold-out, back-to-back knockout performances at New York's Irving Square Plaza in mid-September, it felt like a historic event, the triumphant turnaround that had long been hoped for. Finally, the Queen of Sadness seemed happy to be onstage and capable of delivering a performance that matched the nuance and depth of her recordings.

Predictably, some longtime Cat Power fans argued that the full-band production of "The Greatest" has taken away from her signature sound -- the album was recorded in Memphis with some of the original architects of the city's R&B sound -- but talking to Salon two days before the New York shows, Marshall largely credited her collaborators for her newfound confidence.

"They've been around the block quite a few times, have played with all these amazing people -- James Brown, Aretha Franklin -- and they have all these amazing stories," she said. "One of my favorite musicians of all time is Otis Redding, and to actually have somebody like Teenie [Hodges, the guitarist] who knew the guy -- all I can say is, good, good, good. Just to know that they survived that lifestyle, and that they're still, like, youthful in their hearts, and in their love for playing, just keeps me ... you know, it just opens a whole new idea of a life for me."

Marshall's made no secret of the fact that sobriety is a big part of this "whole new idea of a life, " though when she appeared onstage at the first of the Irving Plaza shows -- a verse late, lighted cigarette and coffee in hand -- it seemed for a moment like the old Cat Power had returned, and the audience's apprehension was palpable. But when the band launched into the title song from "The Greatest," an amazing thing happened -- the backup vocalist went ahead and sang the harmony line without her, and it was as though with that simple gesture she had given Marshall just the boost she needed to come out of herself. Marshall started out affecting cockiness -- gesticulating erratically, prancing and self-mockingly fluffing her breasts before she finally made her way to the microphone for a tentative finish. But by the time the band moved into "Living Proof," a song well suited to the lush instrumental accompaniment, Marshall's confidence was real, and she took a moment afterward to greet the audience with a broad smile and a Southern drawl that was not self-mocking at all: "Heyyyyy Y'all!"

Next page: "I'll never tell you what that song is about," and she immediately starts to