8/19/17 - Denver, CO, Marquis Theater

8/19/17 - Denver, CO, Marquis Theater

Setlist (incomplete):
Werewolf
Colors And The Kids
Maybe Not
Names
Good Woman
Naked, If I Want To
I Cant Give You Anything But Love

This is the 32nd performance of the year.

Review
https://303magazine.com/2017/08/review-cat-power-denver-audience-speechless/

After a 30-minute stage clearing, Cat Power gracefully appeared from backstage. She wore an electric guitar around her neck, her signature thick, dark bangs and a white t-shirt with a cardigan. The crowd was still and silent at the sight of her. She started with a slow and solemn song, her voiced vibrating all around the theatre. During the first six or so songs, the bartenders had to clarify orders because no one wanted to speak above a whisper.

A case could be made that the demeanor of the audience members dictated the entire tone of the show. I, myself, got an elbow to the gut trying to take a photo of Cat Power performing. But she didn’t want to be seen, she wanted to be heard. She would play continuous songs, with only the dedicated fans at the front knowing when one song ended and another started (they would signal the applause to the rest of the blokes in a Cat Power-induced trance remembering their past loves). “She’s the Miles Davis of anti-folk,” a man said to his friend next to me.

About halfway through her set, Cat Power moved to the pianoforte. There, she played a resonating rendition of “Some Say Love” by LeAnn Rimes, followed up by her legendary hit “I Don’t Blame You.” Both were met with much applause and smartphone documentation. “I’m so blessed and honored to be alive and have a moment where I’m understood, where I’m not alone. Thank you for making me not feel like a crazy person. I wish you the best,” she admitted to the intimate crowd of around 160.

“Look after yourself and the people that love you. You could love a sandwich, you know. But some things don’t love you back and that’s the hardest lesson. I’m still learning it, and it’s the hardest thing I had to learn,” she told the crowd. She then sang an acoustic version of Billie Holiday’s, “I Can’t Give You Anything But Love,” as she walked backward off the stage waving goodbye.

Review + Picture
http://www.denverthread.com/cat-power-shares-intimate-resonant-set-marquis-theater/



Cat Power’s music has been the perfect soundtrack to many stressed days, sad days, super happy sunshine days. Camping music, bath-time music, driving music- the times when you really need the music to be…sacred.  Her songs, her voice, her vulnerability, raw emotionality and instability- all of that vibrates on my frequency.

Saturday August 19th, Cat Power (aka Chan Marshall) offered a powerfully intimate, emotionally candid set of music for an enrapt audience of fans, many of who seemed to feel much the same as I do about this uncompromising, brilliant artist. The tiny, gritty Marquis theater provided the perfect space for the kind of ritualistic soul baring that Cat Power offered her audience. 

Opening with the hauntingly sparse “Werewolf” the artist appeared solo with acoustic guitar, entirely unadorned by backing musicians or pretense. She moved methodically through a set of music that leaned heavily on the essential 2003 album “You Are Free,” material well-suited to the solitary performance setting that she has chosen.

Cat Power is known to be a mercurial and sometimes unstable live presence. The melancholy that saturates her music clearly reflects an artist of vast sensitivity, which has, at times in her career, manifested itself in uneven and difficult performances. The Marquis Show had its moments of emotional tension but in this case, they added to the overall experience of the show.

At one point in the show, she stopped singing to ask someone in the front row why they had paid money to stand in the front of a concert and carry on a conversation during the performance. “When I go to shows,” she said “I’m totally locked in on what’s happening on stage, I want to understand all of it, and you have to pay attention. I go to shows to get away from conversations.” After suffering through years of  shows where the drunks will simply not shut up, I deeply appreciated her brash honesty and the way she turned an uncomfortable moment into a teachable one.

Midway through the set, Cat Power transitioned from acoustic guitar to solo piano and laid bare a collection of laudanum-paced, deeply felt songs- highlighted by the haunting grace of “Names” and a powerfully mournful rendition of Bette Midler’s ode to tortured love, “The Rose.”

“Thank you for not making me feel like a crazy person as I’m trying to do this thing- to be who I am. I hope you get to do this in your lives too,” she imparted as a farewell to the blissed-out fans. As I floated out into the warm, bright night of Larimer Street, I felt a powerful gratitude for getting to share a space with an artist who feels so deeply and keeps having the courage to share her music and her truth.