Cat Power Celebrates 20 Years of The Greatest
The Paramount Theatre was built for nights like this; soft, reverent, and suspended in time. Fans settled into their seats for an evening with Cat Power, celebrating the 20th anniversary of The Greatest, the album that reshaped her career and still feels like a quiet, enduring miracle. The room was fully seated, and the energy felt less like a concert and more like being invited into someone’s memory.
The stage setup was intentionally simple: a curtain backdrop, low lighting, and her band arranged close together on the floor, almost like a living room circle. Just Chan Marshall and four musicians, barely illuminated, wrapped in warm amber shadows. It felt intimate by design, like she wanted us to lean in, to listen closely, to breathe with her.
She played The Greatest in its entirety, twelve songs, front to back, and the room stayed hushed, reverent, almost devotional. Her voice carried that familiar tremble, the soft ache that has always made her one of the most affecting vocalists alive. Between songs she sipped tea, sounding like she might be fighting a small cold, but it only added to the tenderness of the night.
After “Willie,” the room fell into a silence so complete you could hear someone call out, “I love you!” She smiled, gentle and sincere: “I love you too. I wouldn’t be here without you.” Then came a stunning “Where Is My Love,” delivered with the kind of fragility that makes you hold your breath without realizing it. Before the final track of the album, she paused, reflecting:
“This is the last song of The Greatest. I’m so grateful to look back… to look at where we all were 20 years ago, to reassess your choices back then; what to do, what not to do. I’m very grateful that we’re all here, and thankful to be here with you and play these songs.” She closed the first set with “Love & Communication,” letting the last notes linger like a benediction.
After stepping away briefly, she returned for a second set. “This one’s for Kurt,” she said. “Happy birthday. I’m not sure if it’s his birthday or not, but it’s for him.” Then she played “I Don’t Blame You,” a song that has always felt like a letter folded carefully and left on a doorstep.
A few covers followed and then she ended the night with “I’ll Be Seeing You,” the Sammy Fain standard. Before beginning, she offered one more reflection:
“This is for all the ones that are no longer with us but watching over us and waiting for us at the end, people we still have in our lives, people who have left us.”
The room echoed as she sang “I’ll be missing you, I’ll be seeing you,” her voice floating through the Paramount like a lantern. When she finished, she introduced the band, and the entire theater rose to its feet, an immediate, unanimous standing ovation.
And then, in perfect Cat Power fashion, she left us with a final message that cut through the softness with clarity and conviction:
“Fuck the man, fuck the power, take it easy, go slow, be late, remember it’s your life. Thank you so much.”
Simple. Direct. Ever so powerful.