Author: Melissa Marshall
Today is the 14th of February - a marked day designed to make the middle of the month as whimsical and just about as uplifting as dirty snow - those charming enough to corner the elusive on-campus relationship will bring dates to the retirement-inspired ambience of Proctor, while those secure enough to brave the long-distance love-affair search for misplaced Norton Shakespeares in the pursuit of the perfect handwritten edition to their Hallmark greetings. Not hot enough a cup-of-tea for you? There is always the jewelry option - but where is the creativity in that? Using the deductive reasoning that singles Middlebury students out as the pink flamingos and sunset oranges of the metaphorical Crayola box, you can give your heartthrob one better than a Chanel necklace - the face of it. Karl Lagerfeld recently unveiled plans to transform Chan Marshall, better known under the moniker Cat Power, as the face of Chanel jewelry. But her omnipresent cigarette and sixties-inspired hair aren't the only things of Marshall's that are smoking - her newest release Jukebox is perhaps her most seductive yet.
Reworking the voices of Joni, Billie and Sinatra, Marshall plays with decades, genres and gender in her eighth release. Her second covers album, Jukebox, languidly lingers over Hank Williams' "Ramblin[Wo]Man," wrings restlessness from The Highwaymen's "Silver Stallion" and develops despondency paired with the tinkling of piano keys on Billie Holiday's "Don't Explain." Unfortunately, her feminine prowess falls flat on her predictable and tame version of the show-tune "New York," and despite her slinky sultriness, "I Lost Someone" fails to follow the flame embodied by the Godfather of Soul.
While Jukebox remains faithful to Cat Power's typical bare-bones fashion - her heartachingly exposed voice is often stretched taunt over the skeletal frame of minimalist piano and acoustic chords, a surprisingly number of musicians have slid onto the disc. With the help of the Dirty Three's drummer Jim White, Jon Spencer Blues Explosion's Judah Baer, Chaver's Matt Sweeney and Spooner Oldham, who was a major player on her critically acclaimed The Greatest, Marshall's covers album is quietly creative and peacefully personal - even if it risks bordering on boring.
Not surprisingly, the album's greatest moments are the original ones. Her remodeling of "Metal Heart" from her 1998 Moon Pix comes of fcleaner and tighter the second time around with the exchange of piano for guitar while "Song to Bobby" - Marshall's tribute to Dylan - plays like an entry from a 15-year-old girl's diary in its simplicity and acoustic fondness. And even though this high school dropout from Georgia deserves commendation for her spunk in tackling and attempting to conquer the folk greats, Jukebox skips a beat in comparison to her wholly original releases. While the overall effect is secretively sexy and smokier than California in the summertime, it lacks the patient passion and wrenching rawness of You are Free and Myra Lee.
So pull the plug on Barry White and pass over the Marvin Gaye this Valentine's Day and slip under the covers to Cat Power's earthily constructed album. Whether you're searching for arousingly raw, inexplicably intimate or modest comfort, Jukebox delivers. And most importantly, it's one of the most thoughtful releases this year - and isn't attentiveness supposed to be at the heart of this whole day?
for the record
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