The Spin Interview: Cat Power

You have a reputation for unusual behavior during live shows: starting and stopping songs, talking as if you're in a trance, apologizing repeatedly. Where does that come from?
Say you're typing a poem and there's something wrong with the E key -- it looks like an R or a Q. And you're like, fuck, and you pull the paper out. That's what playing is like for me. There's just something wrong -- the sound, the lights, someone looking at me, maybe the piano's out of tune -- that's why I stop and start. I want to make it perfect. It's not like I'm trying to torture people. I don't care if I've got a booger up my nose or my head's on fire; it's not about me. It's about the song.

Do you have stage fright?
It makes my heart beat faster just thinking about it -- all the people and the lights. I don't appear shy, but I'm a very sensitive person.

Do you have to play live? Is that part of your contract?
No not at all. I wanted to.

You enjoy playing live? You don't always seem to enjoy it.
That's the thing about me. People think, Oh she's crazy -- she doesn't like to play. But that's not it. It's like tapping into some communal vein. There's always one person who talks to you after you go through this physical, emotional, spiritual, psychological experience. It's a dualship, a communication between the listener and me, even though you're not talking to each other or looking at each other, there's this space that starts living. This space in the universe that we all share, and it opens up, and then we forget we're in a bar. It's like looking at a painting or watching a horse run. It's that thing that keeps us liking life.

You recorded The Greatest in Memphis. What was it like to work with soul legends like Mabon "Teenie" Hodges?
The recording process was intense -- you know, white girl from Georgia asking these legendary musicians if they'd be interested in recording "Try Me," by James Brown. Teenie would be like, "Now what key is the song in?" And I'd be like, "I don't know anything about keys." And he'd be like, "Okay, just play it." I'd play and he'd mark down the Nashville numbers system -- that's the way poor people learn to play because [takes on a deep-South accent] they don't have no con-serrr-va-tory. And Teenie would be like, "See that note you played? That's the key. It's always gonna come back to that note."

Teenie taught you music theory?
Yeah, but I didn't really need to know any of that. [Laughs] You know the dude in Africa with a wash bin? He doesn't need to know. That Chinese guy in the subway with the instrument with one string? Do you think he's studying music theory?

Your next record will be another covers album. Whose songs will you be doing?
Duke Ellington, Billie Holiday, Cole Porter. I'm going to record it in Mexico City in January, release it next summer. Then I'll have time to audition for Saturday Night Live.

You want to join the cast of Saturday Night Live?
Yeah. I met Molly Shannon when I was playing a show in Brooklyn. I didn't know what to say, so I said [imitates Shannon's voice from her SNL cheerleader skit], "I love it! I love it!" She didn't laugh. I think she was embarrassed. But four years later, I saw her again and told her this story about my friends getting handcuffed, and Molly was laughing. She was like, "Oh my God, have you ever thought about acting?" So I might ask her to forward my audition tape.

When you look at all the albums you've made over the past decade, what's the most significant change you hear musically?
The biggest change is probably something you can't hear on the albums -- it's something that happens live. When I was six, I was singing [Kenny Rogers'] "The Gambler" onto a cassette for my grandmother. Now when I'm onstage, I'm singing the same way, singing from happiness. My songs always sounded triumphant to me, but they never sounded triumphant to other people because I was always insecure about my abilities. I caught so much bullshit from sound guys for years. With The Greatest, this is the first time I've ever been able to play live and have it sound like it did on the album. This Memphis group is the first band I've recorded with that has practiced. Having all the songs in key has liberated my singing for the first time.

Can you tell me about Sun, the album that's due after your next covers album?
It will come out in spring of 2008. I'm producing it. One song is called "Leopard," I used to sing it when I was 26. There's another song, a spiritual song called "Mountaintops." And there's a really sweet song called "Funny Things" that's like a little kid's tap-dance song about having special secret thoughts: "Funny things in your dreams/Can you whisper talk to me?" And then there's "Silent Machine," which I actually wrote a long time ago. There's another song called "Oh Time." It's about my ex and it's about forgiveness. My friend Susanna always cries when I play it.

How does it go?
"A ticket to Atlanta / Family knows another now / A ticket from Atlanta / Family knows, another shot down / You win / I give in / I forgive you / Oh time, the great healer / Oh time, the great healer."

That's beautiful.
You know Cat Power -- she tends to write pretty personal songs. The myth! The mystery! [Laughs] That's why I've always done interviews: to show there's no mystery at all. When I was 21, I wanted to do interviews because I wanted to save the world. I still do. But half the time I'm still trying to save myself first.