Chan Marshall at the piano

I consider myself to be a hermit from the months of December till late March. It takes a major event for me to venture out into the windy, frostbitten darkness leaving behind the warmth and tranquility of my closet-sized apartment. So when I heard Cat Power was playing on March 9th, I was thrilled, but still slightly hesitant to go out on a bitter Wednesday night. Only when it was confirmed that her concert was taking place at Southpaw did I pile on the layers, strap on my boots, grab two scarves and work up enough nerve to endure the elements and my hour-long subway ride. I have seen a ton of shows in New York City, but there is something unique about Southpaw and its artists: pretentiousness does not make it past the door.

Langhorne Slim

The opening act was Langhorne Slim, a mix of folk, blues and rock, who won over the audience with his lively performance and stellar acoustic guitar playing. Once Langhorne Slim finished, the anticipation of Cat Power increased. Chan Marshall, the sobering solo artist that is Cat Power, is an introverted, but highly talented singer notoriously known for her sporadic and sometimes despondent playing style. Ms. Marshall has walked off stage because some drunken fan yelled something she didn’t find amusing. She sometimes covers a song, such as Free As A Bird, only to change her mind midway through and begin another. The lure of Cat Power is that on a “good” night it is a concert you will always remember. Lucky for me, March 9th was one I will not forget.

Chan Marshall takes the stage at around 10:30 p.m. Her face is covered by her long hair and thick bangs. She sits down, picks up the guitar and whispers, “Thanks for coming.” The audience responds appreciatively, but immediately following the uproar, concerned fans yell “shhhh,” and even the bartenders communicate to their patrons in a low murmur as to not disturb Cat Power’s aura. Marshall’s true fans realize that she is, above all, a musician. One who respects art over commercialism. Performing, although a necessity, does not seem to rank high on her list of priorities. Chan strums the strings with an intensity that silences Southpaw. Her sultry, dry ice voice cuts through the air as she pounds the piano, strategically positioned so that her back faces the audience.

Three-fourths through the performance, as Chan rotates from her guitar to the ivory keys, she states, “It will all be over soon, I promise.” The audience does its best to reassure the humble Marshall, who seems completely unaware of the magical moment she has brought. The venue is dimly lit (done by her request) and if it were not for Cat Power’s ruminating voice echoing into my ears, I might assume the stage is empty.

Chan Marshall waves goodbye

Upon finishing her beautiful set she puts down the guitar and with a ghostly gaze she says, “Next time, I promise, it’ll be better.” The audience slowly comes out of Chan’s hypnotic trance and applauds. Cat Power sticks out her hand from behind the curtain and gives a quick wave. Looking back, Chan Marshall made a lot of promises that night, but I can only swear that her act is worth witnessing. For more information: www.catpowermusic.com.