US singer-songwriter Cat Power talks youthful inspiration, cover versions, and sobriety before she lands in the southwest to recreate one of Bob Dylan’s most famous shows.
Words: Alexia Loundras
“I am so excited!” Chan Marshall, a.k.a. Cat Power, says, beaming down the internet from her Miami home. “I’ve never been to Bath! Is it beautiful? I cannot wait!” she gushes.
Today, the hard-to-pin-down, haunting purveyor of blues-laced, acoustic rock—and undisputed queen of cover reinventions—is delightfully chatty as she prepares to head out on the final leg of her world tour in support of her 12th album.
Unlike her three previous covers albums—featuring tracks by the likes of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, Frank Ocean, and the Rolling Stones—this one is an entire recreation of a historically iconic set: a live recording of Bob Dylan’s bootlegged Live 1966: ‘The Royal Albert Hall’ Concert.
Despite its name, the original gig actually took place at the Manchester Free Trade Hall on May 17, 1966, where, midway through the set, Dylan—an inspirational counterculture folk-god—swapped out his acoustic guitar for electric and was famously jeered as a “Judas” by an audience member for daring to plug in.
After a year on the road, it’s a heckle Marshall is very familiar with:
“Every night, some guy has to shout it,” she laughs. “And they’re racing each other to say it! It comes out earlier and earlier.”
You’re known for transforming other people’s songs, but recreating this entire set is a very specific homage to Dylan. How did it come about?
The timing was just so perfect. It was so clear to me that I just had to do it.
How so?
I never expected I’d get to play at the Royal Albert Hall in London, so when I was offered a gig there [in 2022]—on Guy Fawkes Night, of all days—it was just perfect. The history of that day, as an act of protest, really lent itself to that time in American history when Dylan went electric and played that show.
The problems going on in America in the 1960s—the civil rights movement, fighting for abortion rights—really resonated with what is happening here now, too. The political temperature in America is getting worse—things are getting more f**ked up.
It was just really clear to me—how perfect, how Bob Dylan-ish!—that I should recreate his famous set and record it. But this time, at the actual Royal Albert Hall.
There are definitely parallels when you compare the world now to the 1960s, when the protest song was influencing culture.
Yeah, it does feel that way. Back then, Bob would play civil rights protests and sing with Joan [Baez].
And now in America, it’s like the times, they haven’t changed. But you know, there’s more of us revolutionaries now than there were then. And I do actually feel more positive. There is unity against the crazy stuff happening.
We should be proud to stand together, and we should be fearless.
What is it about Bob Dylan that you love?
When I hear his songs, I go back to being a kid, on my own with my friend Bob Dylan. When I was young, we lived a very transient lifestyle. Around me were all these things: Hells Angels, Afros, disco, platforms, leather, drugs, rock ’n’ roll, bars.
It was loud, it was the 1970s—it was nuts, you know? And Bob Dylan would come on the radio or at the party, and his music really connected with me.
And I do feel like a little kid when I’m playing these songs live. Which is fun on one hand, but really terrifying on the other!
Why do you keep coming back to playing covers of songs?
Because these are my favourite songs! If I can sing one of my favourite songs for a year or two, I’m fine with that.
Like Bad Religion by Frank Ocean [which opens 2022’s Covers album], I was singing that for four years before I recorded it. Covers are so powerful because every artist that does them moves you so differently.
Does it feel different when you perform your own original songs compared to when you perform a cover?
Sometimes, yeah. Sometimes I feel cringey when I sing my own songs because, sometimes, there’s pain locked in there—images, memory.
Sometimes it feels like this holy freedom, like, “Hell yeah, I got through that and I can really sing it without any pain.”
And other times, singing those songs, with a prayer to the universe to all living things, makes it better for all the people that identify with a certain lyric or message in a song.
I think, maybe if I sing it, it’ll help heal that part of them that connects with that song and we can maybe get rid of this nasty painful shit together. And I think that’s what art is for.
Playing live hasn’t always been easy for you. How do you find it now?
These days, I might have a glass of wine or mezcal on my birthday, but I’ve gotten sober many times in my life—the first time was in 2006.
I was on The Greatest tour and I didn’t have an instrument, where usually I had a piano or guitar. I just had to stand there looking at the audience, and I thought: “Oh shit, it’s just me and them.”
But I lost my stage fright then because I realised these people were not against me. It took me getting sober to understand that a lot of what I had been told as a young girl just wasn’t true.
That I am a good person, and I’m funny and I’m nice and I’m smart and I’m cool and I’m friendly and I’m normal and I’m healthy and I’m strong and I’m silly and I’m soft and I’m feminine, you know?
And from learning all that shit, I learned to enjoy being on stage.
It sounds like you’ve really laid those demons to rest.
Oh my God, that’s exactly what they are. Like cartoon demons!
I remember when I was so riddled with fear and it’s just laughable to me now. I’ve become the strongest person I never knew I could be.
Playing live is always a big deal for me, but now, especially as it’s Bob, I want to make it special for everyone because so many people love him. Everyone’s here because they love Bob Dylan, so I say to myself: “Look, you little seven-year-old, you better be good!”
Cat Power played Bath Forum June 2025
Cat Power Sings Dylan: The 1966 Royal Albert Hall Concert is out now on Domino Records https://www.dominomusic.com/uk
