Cat Power’s “The Greatest” Finds New Weight at First Avenue
The crowd at First Avenue Thursday night felt quietly expectant when Chan Marshall, better known as Cat Power, walked onstage just after 8:30 p.m. There wasn’t much buildup or drama. She stepped up to the mic, took a second, and thanked Minneapolis for its bravery, referencing the recent protests following the killings of Renee Good and Alex Pretti at the hands of Federal ICE agents. She didn’t say much more than that, but she didn’t have to. The room understood.
From there, the night unfolded in a way that felt steady and intentional. Cat Power began playing The Greatest from start to finish, letting the album tell its story without interruption. The stage lighting was kept low sometimes so low that when Chan moved from one side of the stage to the other, you could barely see her. Instead of an distraction, it added to the mood. It felt stripped down and honest.
Chan was a woman of few words throughout the evening. She let the songs carry the weight. Her voice filled the room in that way it does soft but strong, fragile but completely in control. The backing band was incredibly tight, never showy, just locked in. They gave her space when the songs needed to breathe and pushed a little harder when the moment called for it. On the bluesy “Could We,” the band dug in and let the groove stretch out, giving the song a bit more grit and drive than the album version.
One of the most intimate moments came later in the show when Cat Power paid tribute to Prince. She mentioned they had only ever played the next song once before, when they recorded it, and then began “Nothing Compares 2 U.” Playing that song in Minneapolis is always going to mean something, but in that dimly lit room it felt especially personal. It wasn’t flashy or dramatic. It was simple and heartfelt, and you could feel the crowd leaning into it.
The show closed with a chilling and emotional version of “I’ll Be Seeing You.” As the last note faded out, there was a brief pause before the First Avenue crowd erupted. It felt less like a typical encore cheer and more like a shared release. Chan stepped forward one last time, thanked Minneapolis again, and told the crowd to keep their chin up before quietly walking offstage.
There was no spectacle to the night. No big production moments. Just an artist standing in front of a city that’s been carrying a lot lately and offering songs that felt reflective and real. In a period in time that’s been heavy for Minneapolis, An Evening with Cat Power didn’t try to be bigger than it needed to be. It just gave people a place to sit with the music and maybe with each other for a while.
