While Jamye was apparently having a better-than-expected time at the GEC watching The Jazz Singer, Mark and I were being bored to tears at the Mercy Lounge a few blocks away by Chan Marshall. The name she performs under is Cat Power... I should have known.I used to have a soft spot for all soulful female singers who wore their hearts on their sleeves and sang about being wounded by love; then I went to this show. I just wanted this girl to shut up. Not that I could decipher her mush-mouthed lyrics or discern one song from another, but when her set came to an abrupt end, presumably because there was quite a bit of conversation taking place during her performance, thus ruining the hypnotic trance effect she desired, another band was prepared to take the stage. In other words, they actually anticipated that she would flake out and leave early.
The band that came out next was The Bees, a fairly popular local band with a straightforward canon of pop songs. The few people remaining, including us, seemed to welcome the change. We were gonna stay a little while to get our money's worth and try to shake off the effects of Marshall's Cat Power, which, as far as superpowers go, merely robs you of the will to live.
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