The Greatest Cat I know

Feeling the need to pace myself to the Bluesfest finish line, I was planning give my ears (and feet) a rest and take Tuesday night off. Randy Newman, Los Lobos and George Clinton's P-Funk All Stars were the big name acts of night, but none were compelling enough acts for me stick around.

Throughout the afternoon while I was working in the Bluesfest office, however, I kept hearing talk of this Todd Snider character. Snider was apparently the day's hidden gem, so in the interests of all seven Capital Letters readers, I decided to check him out.

You might know Todd Snider as the man behind "Talkin' Seattle Grunge Rock Blues," a 1994 song that brought him some measure of cult status. You might also know he's released eight studio albums, including 2006's Devil You Know. If you knew either of those facts, then you knew more than me because Snider's name didn't mean a thing to me until last night.

Barefoot, with an acoustic guitar and a Southern drawl, Snider delivered his set with a cleverness, humour, and political punch the likes of which I have not seen so far at Bluesfest. The songs - some almost spoken word - were bare, but brilliant, and his often simple rhymes or anecdotes left no question about his incomparable gift as a performer.

My favourite lyric? "If worms had daggers, birds wouldn't fuck with them". You can't argue with that logic, now can you?

While tonight's line-up boasted Grady (Big Sugar lead singer Gordie Johnson's new project), Inuit throat-singer Tugaq, and the Steve Miller Band, for me, it was all about Cat Power. And she was all about being amazing.

Now, if you've heard anything about Cat Power, it might be that Chan Marshall - the creative force behind the music - is sometimes persnickity live. Here's what Wikipedia says of her performance style:

"Traditionally, Marshall’s live shows have been notorious for their chaotic and unpolished nature, with songs beginning and ending abruptly or blending into one another without clear transitions. Marshall has in the past spoken of her severe stage fright. She has been known to stop playing in order to apologize for a self-perceived flaw in her performance. She has even cut short a few of her performances without explanation, on some occasions under the influence of alcohol. These events have had a polarizing effect on Marshall’s fan base. Some have been alienated by what they perceive as Marshall’s lack of professionalism, while others have enjoyed what they see as a candid, honest, and spontaneous performance."

Not necessarily a ringing endorsement.

Imagine my delight then when Marshall and her band sailed through a heartfelt and confident hour-long set. Opening with "The Greatest," the title track of her 2006 album, Marshall and Co. brought to life the record's slick Memphis feel. She has a beguiling voice; its well-worn rasp proof she has survived whatever subject she sings about, be it aching pain or fresh love. There is no doubting her - a voice like that comes only from experience. And perhaps cigarette smoking (halfway through the set, she pulled a pack of Camels from her shirt pocket and put them on her music stand).

She swayed and danced across the stage throughout the set and was warm and receptive - if a bit shy - to the audience's affection. Perhaps this is why some of us might have felt ripped off that she was not given the opportunity to play an encore. I was holding out for "Colours and the kids," but that might have been wishful thinking at the best of times. Whatever the case, the music certainly didn't bore me to death.