"Cat Power"

I had never heard of Cat Power before playing Jukebox,and with a name like that I donned my American Apparel bronze lamé leggings in preparation for the dance-party ahead. I expected high energy, bass heavy, fist pumping music; this was not the case.

Cat Power, aka Chan Marshall, is a soulful singer from Georgia who started her recording career in 1995 with the nine-tracked album, Dear Sir.Since then, she has come out with six more albums and has even been featured on Handsome Boys Modeling School’s White People.

Her life strangely mirrors those of the artists she covers on Jukebox. By age 36, she had already admitted to suffering from alcoholism, a severe painkiller addiction, and been to rehab. Her latest album, Jukebox, marks the continuation of her reinvention as a healthy artist, which began with the release of The Greatest which featured original work.


The name of the album, Jukebox, refers to the collection of songs she has borrowed from past greats, ranging from Frank Sinatra to Bob Dylan. Jukebox is Cat Power’s follow up to The Covers Record from 2000. The term “cover” is a gross misnomer; she goes far beyond covering the songs that appear on the album, often rendering them unrecognizable. At times, you almost forget that Marshall did not compose most of the tracks.
In fact, she penned only two songs on the LP, and they stand out as the best. “Metal Heart,” with a soft piano beginning, introduces an almost androgynous voice, with a few high notes that remind us that Chan Marshall is in fact a woman with a story to tell, a story of a “metal heart” that she warns “will be in a very sad, sad zoo.” Her “Song to Bobby” serves as a plea to the rocker, begging him, “Can you please be my man?” over a stripped-down acoustic guitar layer.
The first track, New York is a far departure from its Sinatra predecessor. With its smoky lounge singer vocals and slow-tempo jazz piano arrangements, it’s hard to imagine that Liza Minelli made the song famous while performing it flamboyantly in a sequin leotard. Hank Williams’ country theme “Ramblin’ Man” is transformed into “Ramblin’ (Wo)man” on Jukebox. Marshall uses the original track as a guideline for her soulful bluesy record.
Unfortunately, the tracks begin to mesh together as she moves from one blues song to the next and her raspy voice is near-parody when she yelps, “Oh my God!” like a talking doll. The instrumentals bury the raw pain that Marshall tries to draw out from the ballad.
Jukebox succeeds in spite of these shortcomings. Throughout the album, Marshall is a master story-teller; a trouble that is at once impending and omnipresent saturates each lyric. The effect is powerful and fantastic. Even in up-tempo songs, like “I Believe in You,” the struggle in Marshall’s voice is palpable. From the first track to the last, Marshall carries an old soul. What is more, she carries a voice with the power and the will to translate old soul into new, arresting sound.