Jukebox Hero

Gregg Foreman hangs tough (and tender) with Cat Power.

by A.D. Amorosi

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Published: Feb 5, 2008

THE CAT'S MEOW: Cat Power is Gregg Foreman's (far right, cloaked in shadow) first band since Delta 72. (CLICK IMAGE FOR LARGER VERSION)

Gregg Foreman's only 35, but in Philly time he's lived an eternity. He gave Philly rock some style in the '90s — its only style. Not just with a curt band, Delta 72, that so beat the Strokes/Stripes/LCD Soundsystem continuum to the punch with several albums that still resonate. Foreman the DJ helped Making Time make time at Club Skyline and brought old soul into the immediate with parties like the Turnaround while looking and acting out the part with delicious cock-a-doodle-doos and lean, mean sartorial-ism. Oh, and he did scads of drugs he doesn't do now. Today, he's spinning at his pal John Redden's Barbary, living in Philly, making his own noise as a Rare Bird and is providing Cat Power with the keyboard kink and dirtball heft her music's always begged for with Jukebox. Gregg — back from London when we spoke — did impersonations of Jules Holland, the Brit TV show host whose program he appeared on with Mary J. Blige and Radiohead — and still laughs with a great cackle.

City Paper: Have you always loved what Cat Power did?

Gregg Foreman: You know me. You've seen my development. I've never been very much of an indie rock fan. Not back in the day. Unless you consider, like, the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion indie rock. I was a fan of that. I always liked Chan's voice, but it wasn't something that would be in my collection. You know what I mean?

CP: Does it surprise you that she can get so down into the dirt?

GF: Not at all. I just didn't know anything about her, really, before this. I was close-minded back in the day toward indie rock. Now, if I go back to Moon Pix — that painful, beautiful energy was always there. So there's no surprise. Her voice is a gift God-given.

CP: So whahappened?

GF: You know how sometimes you meet somebody and you're so similar that you bond or become close immediately? She called Judah Bauer and asked him to get a band together. She knew she wanted Jim White from Dirty Three. Then my name came up since we were both living in Miami. She told Judah she loved me. So we had lunch at the Delano. I was nervous 'cuz I thought it was an interview. Instead it was a relaxed talk. We got together again in Manhattan, played shows for the tail end of her Greatest tour and jelled so well that when she wanted to write a new record, we were just there to cover the songs she wanted.

CP: Technically Jukebox is a covers thing. But the music has zip connection to the originals.

GF: Our band, Dirty Delta Blues, wrote them. Maybe the lyrics are the same, but ...

CP: Was that decision as much you guys as it was hers?

GF: Tell you what happened: I'd be at the piano, playing a riff I'd been kicking around. She'd like it, do her little Billie Holiday thing over it. That's how a song was born. So everyone in the band was a catalyst. Sometimes it was just her and I, sometimes more of us. We developed a bond that got pretty deep.

CP: Are you feeling any pressure now? Because, though formidable, D72's situation seemed low-pressure.

GF: Yeah, Touch & Go (Delta's label) was very relaxed. All 50/50. Their expectations for us was to do it as well as we can. They let us do what we wanted, which is why we changed so radically with each record. By the end it was more rock 'n' roll — a gospel band, almost — whereas the beginning was angular punk. Cat is low-pressure because we care about each other. And though it's Chan shouldering the responsibility, we're no longer just the Dirty Delta — we're all Cat Power, according to her.

CP: Is that OK with you?

GF: Yeah. She really loves this band. She loved her last band, but that was more adult-sounding. And that frustrated her. It was more like a dinner show. With us, she's gone electric.

CP: And the thing you notice immediately about Jukebox is the grittiness.

GF: [Laughs] Yeah, well, we've had a few complaints from fans that want to hear Moon Pix. That sound. People lament for what they know. It'll take time. But it's a comfortable fit. And she's happy. There hasn't been one show where she's left the stage. She's smiling. The "old sad Chan" is nowhere to be found. And this album's the biggest-selling CD in Matador history. She's blessed. And I stand beside her 150 percent. I mean, I do my own stuff. But for now ...

CP: What does your own stuff sound like?

GF: What I suffer from is that I've played with musicians of such a high caliber — fortunately. Not because it's about physical skill but rather the emotion that drives you. Has to fit like a glove. I haven't met anybody yet save this one woman, Alexandra Hope, and we're making this GameBoy-meets-Royal Trux thing called Rare Birds. It's very lo-fi. Think the first Suicide album with a little Scott Walker-Bad Seeds thing about it, with some Ronettes.

CP: So when was the last time you listened to a Delta 72 song?

GF: [Laughs] One of the Immediate crew — Edward Gieda — plays one Delta 72 track every time he spins. I like hearing them. That time was special to me — high-energy rock made by humans was crucial. You might have liked it or hated it but you're hearing that in bands, now, like Dead Meadow, Grinderman and Black Lips. It makes me nostalgic.

CP: You never know how long Cat'll keep a band around. Do you like having that element of not knowing?

GF: For better and worse, I've lived my life like "whatever happens." Anyone in Philly who's 30-plus remembers the Gregg Foreman who helped build a scene and nearly destroy himself.

CP: Everybody loves chaos.

GF: But so few people like to see someone transformed and doing well — someone trying to better themselves.

CP: And that's just churlish.

GF: We all have our problems, right? Philly's accepted me back with open arms and I'm glad to be here. Now wrapping it back around to that safety net. I've always been a gypsy of sorts. I don't call it a charmed life because I've lived through my share of shit. But. As long as I know I have a place to sleep and eat tonight, I'm all right.

(a_amorosi@citypaper.net)

Cat Power and Dirty Delta Blues Band with Appaloosa, Fri., Feb. 8, 7:30 p.m., sold out, Starlight Ballroom, 460 N. Ninth St., r5productions.com.

 

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