05.02.08 - 6:15 pm

cat power. i have a few dozen songs of hers on my computer. at least ten of those are incredible pieces of music that i very much cherish and enjoy. one of them takes the top rated song on my entire play list: maybe not.

so when i discovered she was coming to the roseland, i was very excited. julie bought us tickets, and at the expense of the hiphop collaboration show she would have preferred to attend. id only seen one or two youtube videos of chan marshall inspite of my enjoyment of her music. grainy and easily forgettable videos and talk show performances.

so when a woman showed up in a sparkling green dress, stringy blonde hair and the body of a heroin addict, i was rather disappointed how horrible she looked compared to her distinctly arousing voice. much to my relief this haggard woman with the leather jacket and dazed expression was apaloosa, some french woman. she sang about horses. she sang about god knows what. she did jumping jacks. she had a beat box machine that her entire set came out of. and it was quite the rushed set. almost as if she knew how terrible her music was, she would press the skip button on her song before it had finished. the music was catchy, her singing the type of low quality grumble you would expect at a trailer park kareoke. which made the entire act all the more fascinating, inspite of her horrid singing and bizarre physical movements.

she finally went away. her little music box and leather jacket tucked under her frail arms. three hours later cat power decided to come out. there was no reason we needed to wait that long in between sets. when she finally came out with her group, i was willing to forgive her in the excitement of watching her sing my favorite songs. i would be vastly disappointed.

the drummer was the only well illuminated member of the band. and i didnt come to see him. chan preferred to sing in the dark. and not the poorly illuminated dimly colored dark, the pitch black dark. i was suprised how youthful and attractive she was, in the brief moments i was able to see her. but yet, didnt get to enjoy any of that due to her adament refusal to have any light on her. at one point the stage hands had a spot light on her, and that was great. it was like a real live concert. but then she told them to turn the fucking light off, and once again it was a concert during a power outtage. during her exhaustive set, i witnessed the great effort she put into her singing voice. veins throbbed on her contorted throat. her mouth took on distended shapes. but god, that voice. so sexy. so brilliant. so pure. like tires on a gravel driveway. but so mysteriously wonderful.

unfortunately, during her countless song set, she didnt sing a single recognizable song. the entire crowd just stood, swaying slightly, unsure of what to do. no one mouthed the words. no one could sign along. one would think, the point of a live show is to sing the songs that people like. that people buy your albums for. half the fun is being able to sing those songs with the performer. to enjoy your favorite songs being created right in front of you and being apart of the experience. but she had her own agenda. even her encore performace, when artists make a extended effort to send their fans home beaming, was full of songs that no one appeared to know. i watched from the rear, my back against the wall and julie at my feet. it was almost boring. like we had rolled the dice and gone to a concert for someone we had never heard of before. and wished we hadnt.

so, chan marhsall, as much as i adore your musical compositions and the tender way your voice sings me to sleep, ill probably never go see you sing live again.