Tough to cope for Copeland

Shemekia Copeland is chock full of contradictions.


By JEREMY LOOME

The Soul Truth - Shemekia Copeland

 

She's the blues diva still seeking recognition; the little kid introduced to blues via her legendary father, but carving out a niche in soul music; a rebellious young woman who cranks Zeppelin and the Stones but has never touched liquor or pot.

 

While she's a consummate performer she's also a little scared out there. She worries that her voice sounds like a man's, rejecting the suggestion she's the next major name among female blues singers.

 

"Sometimes, I don't feel successful at all, she says. "I think success for me would be not having to worry about anything so I can just play my music. Maybe it's financial independence, or knowing that people get it and get me. Knowing that I've taken a stance and made a mark on the world."

 

At 26, Copeland already has five albums behind her, world tours and status as the future of her label, the legendary Alligator Records.

 

She was tapped for stardom when her father, Texas blues guitar legend Johnny Copeland, looked down at her in her crib and told his wife someday their girl would belt out the blues. But rather than feed off her father's rep by rehashing standards, her discs are original material that often have more in common with gospel and Motown.

 

Not that there weren't advantages. Her father, whom she reveres, died from heart disease when she was a teen. But it wasn't before giving her a chance to hone her craft as an opening act and to meet many of the great blues players who preceded her. She counts Koko Taylor as her auntie and close friend. Taylor, the industry acknowledged "Queen of the Blues," has already anointed Copeland her successor.

 

"I love her like family, but I don't think Koko Taylor can be replaced. And my father was huge on originality, having your own style. It would be an insult if I tried to copycat Johnny Copeland or singers who came before me," she says.

 

Last year's disc, The Soul Truth, made numerous top-10 lists and the single Who Stole My Radio made it to No. 14 on the U.S. national adult non-contemporary charts, boosted by satellite radio and college DJs who liked its message: there's a lot of uncompelling modern R&B out there. The music should be so powerful, she intones in the song, that the listener is "rocked and reeling","from the floor to the ceiling."

 

"I think a pop-blues record would do well, but that's not where my heart is, what I enjoy," she says. "If you wanna sell your soul to the devil, then you do mainstream. But blues is about real life - not necessarily all the horrible stuff that happens but about life in general, real life - not Hollywood life, not something that somebody made up to sell records."

 

She agrees with Sue Foley's contention that most commercial pop is mass-produced garbage, perhaps explaining why blues fandom tends to come in adulthood.

 

"She's right. At some point, I want kids, too. And I pray to God for things to change because right now kids are just cultureless. They just have no clue. I don't want to subject my kids to a cultureless world, never hearing good music, real music, just music based on electronics and what sold last week."

 

But she also rejects the notion that blues is only for those who've lived down-and-dirty which, given the current trend of the genre appealing as much to minivan owners as bikers, might be good marketing. Copeland, however, walks the talk.

 

"Being on the road, it's a hard life in general. It's even harder if you've been drinking or doing drugs or smoking cigarettes.

 

"Back in the '60s that was all common, but times have changed so much. I find when I do gigs, people don't even offer me drugs. They offer Ricola. Occasionally people offer me a reefer or ask me if they can get me something harder, but mostly I have friends who bring me Ricolas and tea.

 

"I think I attract the kind of people that I am. So I've never had a musician in my band who smoked. No smokers, no drinkers.

 

"When my band goes out to the van, they talk about how nice the soap in the hotel was. My guys? They exfoliate."

 

Copeland's latest disc was full of crafted, cool melodies reminiscent of old Motown and Stax, thanks to the influence of producer and legendary guitarist Steve Cropper.

 

"Steve wants the best work and whatever sounds best, so we just did what he thought. He didn't have any intentions on playing on the record so much. It just worked out great and I lucked out that he did. But the record was about me and not about that guitar-driven sound."

 

She has alternately opened and closed with Guy on an unofficial tour of sorts for several months now, popping up in clubs across North America as he promotes his disc from last year, Bring 'Em In. She loves his body of material.

 

But Copeland never listens to her own music. "I really don't like my voice - but it's also nice when someone else tells me they heard it and like it.

 

"That's real nice."

 

 

Posted: 3/20/06

Souce: http://www.edmontonsun.com


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