Sampling: Cat Power - Jukebox

CAT POWER
JUKEBOX
MATADOR

by Nick McGregor

Cat Power’s ascent from underground sensation to mainstream stalwart has weathered the twists and turns of 13 years and eight albums, but whether this sultry songstress (real name Chan Marshall) was ready for her second collection of cover songs is up for debate.

Expanding on territory documented on 2000’s The Cover Record, there’s no denying the effect of her newest album Jukebox. Blending pop, country, jazz, blues, folk, and soul standards into a concise 40-minute package, Cat Power proves her far-ranging voice doesn’t belong in an indie box and can cover just about every aspect of American music.

Opening with the smoky barroom feel of Frank Sinatra’s classic “New York” and segueing into a sexy reworking (and re-titling) of Hank Williams’ “Ramblin’ (Wo)Man,” Marshall demonstrates that she needs little more backing than sparse drums and soul-drenched organs to work her magic. “Silver Stallion,” a 1980s Highwaymen cut, succeeds with nothing but a countrified slide guitar and hushed, straightforward vocals, adding to the overall simplistic feel of Jukebox. A similar combination of bluesy guitar and Cat’s muted wail gives the traditional “Lord, Help the Poor and Needy” a shuffling swagger, and the darkly majestic sadness found on “Don’t Explain” adds emotional layers to a Billie Holiday classic.

But where that quintet of tracks anchors Jukebox, the remaining seven get bogged down, failing to recreate the same slow-moving tranquility.

Even when Cat hits strong vocal notes, particularly on songs like “Women Left Lonely” and “Aretha, Sing One For Me,” her band often puts in uninspired performances that end up languishing in the barely audible background. Then again, maybe that’s the point: this is a Chan Marshall record, after all, and her voice is the star. But the lineup falls flat on the album closer “Blue,” even with Marshall sexing up Joni Mitchell’s icy lyrics and a chugging Rhodes organ adding texture.

Jukebox seems to be a look inside Cat Power’s musical brain, but at album’s end, she leaves miles of distance between herself and the listener (contrasted with the breathy, lusty, in-your-face opener “New York”). Jukebox delivers another mixed and imperfect Cat Power snapshot; just don’t expect to make out too many details.