It was one of those perfect summer days yesterday, in Seattle that is. Temperature in the mid-80's, not a cloud in the sky. It stands to reason that it was a perfect night for an outdoor concert; and it was. Our friend Dahli had the terrific idea of buying reserved seats (20 dollars more than general admission at Marymoor and worth every penny), so we had the bizarre, wonderful, slightly strange experience of having Cat Power wander into our row as she wailed and grimaced and communed with inner voices. Cat Power is known for her quirky stage presence. Before she stopped drinking, she was known to wander into the audience and then right out the door. The drunk red-haired woman in the row in front of ours, when she wasn't lap-dancing for her boyfriend, was taking photos. She made me look at every single one and then promised to send all of them to me by email. She added that she was really drunk, which was totally unnecessary because totally obvious. I'm still waiting for those photos, damn it. In the meantime, here's what Cat Power wailing and grabbing her head with her hands and looking forlorn yet mischevious reminded me of: Edvard Munch, The Scream.
Then along came Chrissie Hynde and goddamn that bitch kicks ass. It is hard to believe she is 57 going on 58. I guess that militant vegan lifestyle keeps you lean and mean. She said "fuck" more times in one night than I do in one month. Well, in one week then. And she sang Angel of the Morning, the old Merilee Rush song written by Chip Taylor. Merilee is a Seattle native, and Dahli said she thinks she married some rich old guy and raises horses somewhere on the eastside. Maybe she was in the audience last night.
More on Chrissie later, but here she is. Don't take her photo or she'll stomp on you, chew you up and then spit you out.
