Playing the blues is not physically demanding, most would agree, but being your own man (or woman) and still ripping the joint is a rare gift indeed. Lots of people call themselves blues musicians, but the truly unique artists seem to be leaving us faster than the young turks can pop up.
Late great Texas Blues. giant Johnny Copeland is one of those irreplaceable artists, but fortunately he left us a present-his daughter Shemekia. All of 19, she’s already inviting comparisons to Etta James and Koko Taylor, praise born out of her debut CD, an incendiary little fireball on Alligator called Turn The Heat Up. She’s her own woman, but she also sees herself as an extension of her father, a way to continue the legacy and find her voice in the process. There’s a reason for that: it was her father’s worsening heart condition that led a teenage Shemekia to the stage in the first place.
“I went on the road with my daddy… when I was just getting ready to turn 16, ’cause he got sick, you know: she recalls. “I’d been singing before that, since I was a real little girl. But never anything serious.”
She began to fill in for her father here and there, but before long, they both realized that the roles had reversed. Johnny passed away in 1997, but not before the proud papa had begun to see his daughter’s star rise.
“Ever since then, I been doing it like crazy. Like a madwoman,” Shemekia says, although she knows that Johnny Clyde Copeland will always be cheering her on, somewhere. “He lives through me. I never get on stage without him.”
Although she’d like nothing better than to spread the word about her father, the blues demands that you make your own journey as well, and Shemekia has another tradition to consider: that of her blues belter forebears like Taylor, Bessie Smith and Big Mama Thornton. While she has the desire (and lung power) to follow somewhat in their footsteps, there’s another side you may not expect.
“I listen to a lot of gospel. Mahalia Jackson, is one of my main influences. I call her a hummer: She didn’t sing, she kinda hummed. There’s something special in the tone of her voice. She didn’t have to scream to get her point across, and she still gives you shivers.”
Finding the grace to go with the power seems to be a newfound obsession with the young Copeland. “I listen to a lot of old soul and R&B, Otis, Sam Cooke, you know. And Patsy Cline. She sounds pretty. I’ve always wanted that, you know what I mean. I’ve always been a singer, but Patsy, she’s got beauty in her voice. That’s the next thing that [‘m working on: beauty. I want to sing pretty.”
She’s both pretty and powerful on Turn Up the Heat. She scorches the 14 songs here with a frightening intensity we just don’t expect from young blues musicians any more, combining her father’s Texas grit with her Harlem experiences, but she never resorts to mere volume. There’s a balance in her voice between silk and stone that have invited comparisons with none other than Aretha Franklin.
It’s her live show that’s making her a dyed-in-the-wool legend, however, and now you can make up your own mind: She’s scheduled to burn down the House of Blues on April 14, just a few days after her twentieth birthday. It’ll be a good time: “People work all week, and they come expecting a show, they wanna have fun, and that’s what we do. We try to get that excitement out there. Because we’re having a lot of fun.”
“This is her first appearance in New Orleans, and she’s “really excited” about being here. At this particular coming-out party, this blues debutante is more than likely to transfer that excitement straight to you.
Local harp cause célèbre Andy J. Forest, on the other hand, is going to France, and Hell’s coming with him. That is, Letter From Hell, his acclaimed CD/novel project that mixes spoken word and New Orleans blues into a feverish Dante’s Inferno of bad memories, worse gigs and eternal damnation.
Forest explains: “The origin of ‘Letter’ is a mosaic: I’ve always wanted to write. It’s a vehicle .to tell several stories (that become one) and combine my writing with my music.” Touching on sources as diverse as Arthur Rimbaud, Mahalia Jackson and Sonny Terry, the novel was nominated for the Pirates Alley Faulkner House awards last, year, and much of the novel’s wit comes through in the accompanying CD: “You know it’s strange that ‘No-one’s moaning, ‘Why us?’ See, here we get to smoke. Even on the bus.”
One has to wonder how La Belle, France will take to this odd brew, although Forest isn’t too troubled, since the French speaking people he’s already played to seem to enjoy the snippets of their language included in “Letter.”
“I borrowed a word from Rimbaud – ‘Bleuites,”’ he says, “and so far several French speaking people have told me “That’s not a word.” And then I tell them where I learned it, and they say ‘Oh.’ Not very many people are familiar with Rimbaud’s work, unfortunately.” The tour starts on April 26th in Lyon and takes him throughout La Belle, France till the middle of May although as far as venues,. Forest himself is only positive that he’ll open for Jonny Lang at some point. The entire (still hazy) itinerary can be found at his website at www.andyjforest.com.
Closer to home, Jazz Fest approaches like a cool storm in a fairly dry spring. Yet there are a few heavy hitters playing around town early in the month to insure you don’t have to twiddle your thumbs, men like Texas tornado Johnny Winter, who rolls into the House of Blues on the 2nd with his trademark gutbucket grit. (Show up and see if he’ll grace us with his version of “Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye”)
Walter “Wolfman” Washington brings his ultra-funky take on the blues (and the fabulous roadmasters) to Levon Helm’s on the 3rd. And of course, Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown, a man for whom “living legend” is a weak phrase, celebrates his 75th birthday with a hot performance at the House Of Blues on the 17th. He’s also there to promote his latest big-band opus, American Music – Texas Style. Go for whatever reason you like, but by all means go – this is likely to be one of the better concerts you’ll see this year.
