A disaster -- Cat Power's performance last Friday evening at the Satellite Ballroom can be described as nothing less. Chan (pronounced "Shawn") Marshall, the singer-songwriter who takes on the feline moniker, is known for her on-stage hysteria. In fact, stories abound about her public breakdowns in the spotlight following nearly every show. Even with such forewarning, this night proved to be all too much for this concert-goer.
It all started out so well. The audience immediately heeded Chan's request to be seated and was treated to an intimate piano rendition of "The Greatest," a song off her forthcoming album of the same name. The chords were sparse and rang throughout the venue, mesmerizing all within earshot. Chan's characteristically airy vocals emphasized every syllable and yet felt as vulnerable as they did guarded.
Even after her initial switch from piano to guitar, Chan still appeared to be fully in control of the audience. But some time after performing a spattering of new material, the audience lost its patience and Chan lost her confidence. Songs began to trail off, unfinished and unrealized, while a slow murmur developed in the rear of the room.
The sly, soulful swagger Chan developed earlier in the set slowly turned into self-neurosis. Fans tried desperately to cling on to fragments of their favorite songs before they were eventually aborted in disgust. In an attempt to mend the divide between new and old material, Chan played two quiet and harrowing covers of "House of the Rising Sun" and The Everly Brothers' "All I Have to Do Is Dream." These would be the last satisfying numbers of the night.
Chan's frustration with the increasingly talkative audience came to the fore when she complained about feeling judged while performing. She even mentioned that the rumble from "those people in the back" sounded like "she, she, she" as if talking about her. While it is doubtful those audience members near the bar had any more on their minds than the drinks in their hands, her indirect request for their attention fell upon deaf ears.
Like nothing I have ever experienced, the very audience-performer relationship had broken down.
Nearing two hours into her performance, Chan suddenly aborted a piano number mid-verse, quipping, "I'm just getting a bad feeling about this. I need to get out of here," before darting off stage. The house lights were immediately turned on, and music began to play. It was over and I can almost guarantee that you've never seen so many dumbstruck faces.
What happened? And more importantly, do I care? Most emphatically not! At the end of the evening, I talked with a number of Cat Power regulars who told me matter-of-factly that fans come to these shows and pay money just to see the train wreck we'd both just experienced. A sickening feeling came over me, one that continues to bother me even as I write this article. What kind of a fan comes to a show in order to gain pleasure from watching a fragile performer break down? And what kind of an artist continually performs in spite of a well documented self-esteem issue?
At the end of the day, I would like to think that we're all big boys and girls when it comes to concert-going. Friday evening's show, however, has taught me that, even with the lowest of expectations, fans and performers can still find a way to let you down.
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