It?s
hard being the greatest, a title Cat Power, n?e Chan Marshall, certainly vies
for with every delectably slinky album she records. It?s even harder to top The
Greatest, her
most significant accomplishment to date. Unfortunately for Marshall, her second
collection of covers, Jukebox, fails to do so despite its many strong
moments, reminding an audience once awestruck by her flawless and daring last
release just how bittersweet it is.

Drawing
material from her own feline powers of creativity as well as an eclectic mix of
other artists, Cat Power?s Jukebox is the songstress? second attempt at reinterpreting
others? work. An artistic decision such as this would almost certainly mean
failure for a less potent force than Marshall herself, but the songstress?
wide-ranging musical capabilities save the collection, adding a consistently
likeable touch to proven classics and providing just the right amount of
thematic homogeny to piece the otherwise patchwork singles together.

Throughout,
Jukebox
is a sonically dark album, though not always so in message and lyrical content.
Regardless, that shadowy tone is a perfect frame for Marshall?s long iconic,
smoky drawl, at once whisper, cry and decadent croon. That distinct vocal style
accents every track on the album and pairs successfully with the understated
and often intentionally hollow renditions of previously more upbeat works from
George Jackson?s ?Aretha, Sing One for Me? to The Highwaymen?s ?Silver
Stallion.?

Despite
tying the album together, this stark style often leaves something to be desired.
By applying her own distinct ethereal sound to songs originally less organic,
Cat Power strips away some of the novelty that made the songs so wonderful in
the first place. ?Lost Someone,? though touching in its rhythmic simplicity, fails
to capture the desperation and masochistic longing James Brown infused so
integrally into the song through his powerful yelps. Similarly, ?Aretha? is delightful,
but it loses the snap-inducing pulse that made the original so likable. As
usual, Marshall?s vocal timidity purposely contrasts the moments she punctuates
her delicate purring with cries of more power. Unfortunately, this makes far
too many of the album?s tracks seem week and unadventurous instead of
purposefully wistful.

But
this doesn?t go without exception. Cat Power?s approach lends itself remarkably
well to Bob Dylan?s ?I Believe in You? and a similar highlight on Jukebox, the singer?s original
tune ?Song to Bobby.? Marshall sounds eerily like a female Dylan at times (as
on the recent ?I?m Not There? soundtrack), and her rendition of the Slow Train Coming folk ballad rivals its
source. Upping the tempo and the emotional energy, she provides the spice to a
song that always yearned to sizzle.

 Ironically for Jukebox, the album?s highpoints
are not covers but originals. A new version of ?Metal Heart,? originally on
1998?s Moon Pix,
replaces its former twangy resonance with creeping melancholy, bathing growled
lyrics and throbbing piano strikes in a welcome chill. The single ?Song to
Bobby? is a distillation of Cat Power?s best musical attributes, and its
hypnotizing melody reminds the listener of her temporarily misplaced greatness.

Unfortunately
for an album with such a brazen concept, Cat Power?s covers ? the majority of Jukebox
? could
have been better executed. We may have yet another wonderful listen from Ms.
Marshall, but listeners may still want to hit the real jukebox instead of
opting for her run-of-the-mill replacement.

2 1/2 stars out of 5