THE BITTER END, NYC -- SEPT. 22, 2004

Marshall Chapman, the decadent debutante of desire, returned to The Bitter End last night after an absence of over 25 years to celebrate the release of the softcover edition of her critically acclaimed book, Goodbye, Little Rock and Roller (St. Martin's Griffin).

The mixture of tales and tunes Marshall presented from the stage was met with much enthusiasm from the crowd, which included former classmates from Vanderbilt University and Salem Academy (a girls boarding school she attended as a teenager); family; friends; new husband Chris Fletcher; the usual suspects from the recording industry; a healthy contingent from St. Martin's Press; her most loyal New York City fans, including yours truly -- a former New Yorker now living where "God left his shoes " Pennsylvania. The stragglers who wandered into this famous Greeenwich Village landmark sat mesmerized, oblivious to the fact that legendary owner, Paul Colby, had stopped in to see the show, along with Tommy James of Tommy James & the Shondells ("Crimson & Clover").

Starting with a slow and deliberate version of "Why Can't I Be Like Other Girls," Marshall immediately had everyone's attention. Her candid chatter and reminiscing coming straight from her heart and soul... a mixture of excerpts from the book and then some.

Equipped only with a Fender guitar and a "ladies" gin and tonic, Marshall commenced to get the crowd moving in no time at all. At one point, she shouted "Let's hear it for the band!" Judging from audience response, her back-up "band" could have been the Rolling Stones.

Continuing with such classics as "Betty's Bein' Bad" and a monologue about an encounter with Jerry Lee Lewis, each song was either preceded or followed by some titillating fact from her vast repertoire of revelations.

One highlight of the evening, at least for this observer, at this much-anticipated affair, was her rap version of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales -- 12 lines she had memorized since high school. Marshall's impromptu choreography reminded me of her unforgettable early-70s stage performances where she'd drop down to the stage floor and do the Alligator Stomp (or was it Swamp?) in the middle of "Rock and Roll Clothes." The far-away look in her eyes -- that intense stare as if she were in some sort of trance, seducing the audience and teasing.. a hypnotic effect. But, alas, she stopped just short of becoming sinfully and playfully out of control.

Marshall is in control now... a survivor. A rock and roll woman before her time.

Keep on rockin'... don't ever say goodbye.

Kim Porfido - Sept. 23, 2004