Cat Power – Sun
All artists have to evolve. That was the problem with this year’s Beach House album. It sounded exactly like their last album, which was great. But, if they don’t move on next time, then we’ll lose interest. The greatest artists never stop evolving. Dylan being the archetypal musical shapeshifter and with a new manifestation soon to come. Some of the greatest artists develop split personalities, with two or more radically different musical styles coexisting and with the artist moving seamlessly from one to another. Neil Young and Ryan Adams are perfect examples. For her part, Chan Marshall, aka Cat Power, has already evolved. The essential indieness of the early recordings bears little relation to the mature Delta Blues of The Greatest or Jukebox. Like all good artists, she evolved in a way that suited her style, her best qualities. And it almost goes without saying, but for Cat Power the greatest asset is that voice. Deep. Irresistible. The choice of tracks on Jukebox and the dense, steamy style in which they were played emphasised her voice. Intimate. Four years on from Jukebox Cat Power has evolved again. But, oh dear. This is an evolution that wouldn’t survive a process of musical natural selection. Banks of synths. Skittery electronic percussion. A cold, industrial sound that counteracts that warm, enveloping voice. Maybe it’s the songs. This time they’re self-penned. Perhaps there are Delta Blues versions in the vaults that sound fantastic. If so, let’s hear them. But, more likely, they’re just not strong enough. And the production does them, and, more importantly, her, no favours. Cat Power has evolved into a 21st century Annie Lennox. Great voice. Shame about the sound. It’s a pity that the Olympics are unlikely to return to Atlanta, Chan Marshall’s hometown, anytime soon. If so, she’d be sure to have a job in the closing ceremony on top of some or other wooden contraption being wheeled around the stadium singing her heart out. It’d probably look great, but no-one would remember the song.