Cat in my lap

It was with a mix of excitment and terror that I was pulled into Meow Meow's self-described "Kamikaze Kabaret" Saturday at Joe's Pub. When the Australian songstress—whose breathless act leaves the audience completely exhausted—started a song in French, she called out for a translator and I was volunteered by my so-called friends. Next thing I knew, Ms. Meow was sitting in my lap. It's not every day someone with the classic figure of a Cyd Charisse showgirl asks me to translate something or other about loins. As if this wasn't distracting enough, I could not figure out which song she was singing two inches from my flustered cheek; while I had easily identified earlier performances of Gainsbourg's "Comic Strip" and Richard Anthony's "Itsy Bitsy Petit Bikini," that one stumped me. Daniel Isengart later revealed it was by Barbara. Ha-HA! My least favorite of the classic French chanteuses.

All this to say that Meow Meow—who had already stolen the show at Weimer New York the previous week—should not be missed next time she's in town, whatever town that is. She is more punk rock than your average emo goon, and drags cabaret kicking and screaming into the 21st century.