I've heard all the stories about Cat Power concerts. About her chronic stage-fright which can sometimes lead to her spending two hours trying to play a song on her guitar. But this tour was supposed to be different; she has a backing band to provide some stability, and she was apparently looking forward to this tour.
The first signs were rather ominous; the band didn't start playing until 23:30, because they were late getting into Carrboro. They open with 'Baby Doll'. It becomes clear that something is bothering Chan. At the end of the song, she complains that she doesn't think the sound is right (to be fair to her, the monitors at the Cradle do seem to be rather abysmal). The next three songs continue in a similar fashion, with Chan breaking off at the end of the songs to ask for more "whoomph" on her guitar, to turn her vocals up, or to fiddle with her amplifier. It's not going well.
And then the backing band guitarist's amplifier dies.
The rest of the band leaves the stage; Chan says that they'll be back later (they never reappear), and continues alone with her piano and guitar. This turns out to be a mistake. She falls to pieces. For the next hour and a half, she manages to stumble through some songs like 'Names', 'Knocking On Heaven's Door', and 'Evolution', but for the most part she only can play snatches of songs before losing her place, saying that the piano is "too tight and bright".
She seems to get increasingly desperate; she spends the whole show sitting on the edge of a piano stool, tipping the other end up at a distressingly high angle (I really did think that she was going to fall towards the end). She tries to tap out a tune on her guitar using the lead when she's waiting for Matt to attach her amplifier directly into the sound system. She apologises again and again, and does her best to continue. She plays the first song she ever wrote, called "Wizard of Oz', and then lays her head on the piano. She confesses that she doesn't know what she's doing, and that she'll play all night.
After a glance at the long-abandoned set list, she manages to play a few more songs. As it goes past 1am, it's quite tragic; despite having spent money on the concert, all you want is for someone to go onstage, put an arm around her, and say "Chan, you can stop. You don't have to carry on." Eventually, at about 1:30, the tour manager does this, coming into the wings to say that she only has time for one more song. She gets through one last performance on the guitar, says goodbye, and runs upstairs to the dressing room.
As I turned from the front of the stage, I see that the sold-out crowd has dwindled to just a few die-hard fans. Some of the backing band are talking to the remaining audience. It's almost 2am.