Cat Power, Hipsters and Scenes

I’ve never been a fan of scenes. Crime scenes, sappy movies scenes, but mostly a gathering of drones with similar ideas about the texture of the world and humanity’s place in it. You know, those scenes.

Imagine my horror last night when I discovered Cat Power performances attract plaid-shirted, bearded, soy-consuming vegans. The hipster scene. They don’t wear makeup and hate pop music. They won’t wear fur, but sport polished black leather shoes. To them, apartments are “flats” and gallery openings are chances to be seen on the scene.

Chan Marshall (Cat Power’s real name) alluded to her audience’s demographic when she said, “If you see a $34 Cat Power shirt at Urban Outfitters, don’t buy it.”

Oh, and hipsters have no concept of black culture or musical history.

So to little surprise, the audience of trust-fund swilling faux Brooklynites snoozed through R&B standards that, with Marshall’s voice, amounted to a gorgeous retelling of fables they all should know. “The Tracks of my Tears” has been done many an injustice with wreckless covers, but Marshall did Smokey Robinson a favor when she smothered the song in cigarette smoke as she sang. “Blue Moon” & “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long” came out with more sincerity than any of her own songs merited. She knew as much, and it showed in the performance.

Marshall’s not dismissive of her own music, no. But she understands her place in the scene, as it were. The best she can do, and what she has been doing, is an imitation. And a charming one at that.

[She'd never admit that. In interviews, she just says covers are more fun.]

Marshall asked the audience, “So, what do you want to hear next?” (typical for these intimate performances).
“Lived in Bars” and “Willie” (from her latest album) received the most vocal support. She gladly obliged with “House of the Rising Sun”. What a fuck you, eh?

For a better idea of what hipsterdom can cause, check this out:

[Marshall] sits at her piano and starts playing, and the crowd just keeps on talking. 4 songs in, and you can barely hear her soft folksy voice over the mellow piano. The crowd didn’t give a shit.

And for a better synopsis of Ms. Marshall’s many charms, stereogum’s got the good shit.

Her catchphrase for the night, courtesy of Ms. Peachez: “You can find me in the tub, playing with bubbles and washing my booty.” Request “that Cat Stevens cover,” and it was a Ms. Peachez quote in reply. How can you argue? Brag about your pending nuptials, and get “He’s gonna give you that ring, you’re gonna have to give him that anus.” We repeat …

Don’t be confused: the show soared when Marshall wanted it to. And I love the humility needed to play only three (maybe four?) of her own songs in a two hour performance. I’d gladly settle with her hoarse, throaty voice belting out Otis Redding tunes all night - hipsters be damned.

Here’s a Cat Power video.