Review: Monday, 23rd May, Elisabeth Murdoch Hall, Recital Centre, Melbourne.
It can’t be easy performing when you are Chan Marshall, aka Cat Power. She is followed around by a dark and hard to shake reputation of alcoholism, mental instability and disappointing performances.
This is reflected in parts of her performance at the Recital Centre on this rainy Monday night. Wearing an unassuming outfit of black jeans, a t-shirt and a cardigan, and repeatedly clearing her throat, she stands with a kind of bare nakedness on the stage, with just a guitar and amplifier protecting her. Her lyrics echo this sentiment, their darkness and melancholy ringing through the stark silence of the room.
She moves from song to song with barely a breath in between, just allowing for some quick applause. There’s no conversation and barely any eye contact. Her husky voice echoes through two microphones to replicate that well-known Cat Power sound heard on many of her records.
It is when she moves over to the piano that a beautiful, mesmerising performance really begins. Her voice is raw and pitch perfect, and the piano pedals click and clack, reberverating through the room.
[include_post id=”470277″] A cup of tea is perched on the side of the piano, and she sips on it between songs, while tugging at her shirt, moving the microphone in and out, and pushing pieces of hair out of her eyes. The room is so still that it could just be Marshall alone in her bedroom with her piano.
Before she sings ‘Colors and the Kids’, she tells the audience “I wrote this in Melbourne a long time ago.” Marshall has a special relationship with Melbourne, and she later reveals to the audience that it has a special place in her heart, joking about the rivalry between Sydney and Melbourne, making it obvious whose side she is on.
The mood at the piano is still sombre, but she lightens it with minor conversation here and there. Her voice breaks and she says, “that was cute! You gotta laugh at that,” causing laughter to ripple through the audience.
Her cover of Marvin Gaye’s ‘Witness’ is brilliant and raw, as are ‘I Don’t Blame You’ and ‘I Found A Reason’. The tension in the air seems to have eased.
But back at her guitar, she becomes a little clumsy, apologising quietly to the audience while trying to tune it. Then within a couple of songs, there is a complete personality shift, and Marshall begins talking…and talking, and talking.
Now the audience feels like she is comfortable, and she is making everyone laugh hysterically with some rambling stories about chicken cutlets and sloppy sex. Her eccentricity is not wasted on the crowd, and murmurs of giggles make Marshall beam with a relaxed grin.
Ending with a multitude of heartfelt thanks, she says “thank you for letting me be myself. I hope you are able to be yourself too.” While it took her a few songs to be able to be herself in front of the Melbourne audience tonight, she certainly got there in the end, and her music was nothing short of stunning throughout.
