Issue 1: Cat Power- SUN

CAT POWER- SUN Review by Daniel Demaio


Cat Power’s song has always been one of isolation, sadness, and internalized desperation. For as long as I’ve been a fan (You Are Free) Chan Marshall has been a muse of mine. She’s the wounded dove with the broken wing desperately trying to take flight while the fox circles her. While You Are Free and following albums sound like Marshall was gaining some ground one her internal demons, an album like Moon Pix sounds like the duplication of a nervous breakdown (which it was).
   It’s been six years since Marshall released the last official Cat Power record (The Greatest), but the simply-titled Sun was worth the wait. There is not doubt in my mind that this is the most confident, sure-footed Cat Power LP to date. Oddly enough, it’s the most experimental and twisted record that Marshall has ever released. While her backing band (the Dirty Delta Blues Band) had been instrumental in revitalizing Marshall’s career after a mental collapse, they are barely found on Sun, only showing up on first single “Ruin”. It might sound like a negative, but I assure you that all of the album’s best moments are elsewhere. No disrespect to Dirty Delta, but Marshall has tapped into a new world that maintains her minimalist roots. Instead of strumming her heartbreak out on a guitar, she’s instituted the kraut-rock thump of a drum-machine and the melodic simplicity of bass synths and plunked piano keys. “Manhattan” may be the most gorgeously sunny song Cat Power has ever released, and that’s based strictly on sonics alone. It
pounds along while Marshall beautifully fluttering voice soars like a falcon without a killer instinct.
   As mentioned, each of the past Cat Power records has come with an increase in confidence, and Marshall has indeed found a killer instinct (just not on “Manhattan”). Take “Silent Machine” and “Love and Peace” as perfect examples. They writhe with a newfound swagger that equal parts sincere plea and middle finger. “Love and Peace” veers dangerously close to true rock’n’roll. A nasty blues
riff kicks down the door, a dark synths pulsates, and Marshall falls into spit-firing wordplay about how “everyone’s got s—t to pay”. Considering that Marshall was bankrupt while writing the album, it stands as one of the most spine-tingling moments in a record brimming with them.
   The secret weapon to this record’s success is Marshall’s ability to build a vibrant sonic world
out of very few instruments. The title-track, “3, 6, 9”, and the epic “Nothin’ But Time” construct towering monuments to personal strength in the face of grave opposition. This success is due largely to Marshall’s outstanding vocal performance. She sounds relaxed and comfortable in looking at herself in the mirror. While this is still a Cat Power record at it’s center (self-reflective, beaten-down) it’s also the closest that Marshall as ever come to making a summer album. For all of my love of the country twang of past albums, Sun marks the first time I can listen to a Cat Power album without feeling like I ran over a basket-full of puppies.