Michael Koppy

By Katherine Hoffert
Photo by Charles Gary

Michael Koppy ain’t afraid of pissin’ people off. The Dixie-born and bred guitarist has been doing it all his life, expelled from high school in Tallahassee, booted from the local media in San Francisco after organizing the Directors Guild of America at Channel 7, and inspiring disapproval after reworking the song “Red River Valley” to his own liking on debut full length, Red River Redux. But while some may hoot or raise an eyebrow, Koppy is staying true to himself, his artistic integrity and, most importantly, doing what he wants instead of just talking about it.

The bold innovator who decided to keep his musical talents under wraps for a quarter of a century — “not that Iwas afraid, it was just private” — is doing just as much surprising as he is aggravating. After a chance stroll through the SOMAneighborhood one fateful Monday evening in 2001, during which he stumbled upon The Hotel Utah’s open mic night, Koppy decided to break his 25-year performing hiatus and hasn’t looked back since. Surprisingly, immersing himself into the local music scene wasn’t all that sticky. After playing The Utah’s open mic, Koppy was asked to open for rock bands at the venue — “which works because they don’t think I’ll steal their girlfriends, those fools” — and soon at other spots around the city, even landing a residency at Thee Parkside’s Twang Sundays last fall.

Though his friends might not have been aware of it, Koppy knows his way around the guitar and isn’t afraid to explore the full capacity of the instrument or the song, utilizing a Travis picking style and an intrepid approach to interpretation. “Iusually take traditional songs and rewrite them,” he says. “Most songs are poorly written. They may be musically interesting, but most lyrics are just like, ‘What the hell are they talking about?’ Bob Dylan, for instance [see, not afraid to piss people off] — great melodicist, magnetic performer, has a real grasp of structure that you don’t often find — but Ithink his lyrics are his weakest area,” Koppy says.

Yet the concept of reinterpretation is by no means outrageous; it’s been done for hundreds of years. “The 20th century was an aberration in the history of art,” Koppy says. “Things became ossified and put in concrete. Because of copyrights and intellectual property rights, the folk process died. The only version of “Satisfaction” we think of is the Rolling Stones’. That’s not the tradition of music — things change. But now with sampling and remixes, it’s opening up again.” Koppy is not alone in this either. Kristin Hersh, along with Donita Sparks of L7 have championed the same notion recently with their CASHMusic Project, which places music back in the public domain and makes it available to remix, add to and reupload to the site.

Though Koppy makes a good argument for traditional and modern thought not being so far apart, he draws the line with MySpace and doesn’t take interest in things like top friends. He has a page, but it just redirects people to his website (and calls Rupert Murdoch an ultra-right wing extremist and scumbag). Instead, resonance is hugely important to Koppy. For his latest album, Ashmore’s Store, Koppy and his producer Garrett Soden went through every song (mainly originals) line by line to make sure the point was getting across. Then he would record them in Soden’s L.A. studio with Cliff Carothers, a heavy metal drummer from seminal ‘80s band Malice. “Mixes really well with my traditional redneck style of guitar playing though, doesn’t it?” Koppy says (he lovingly refers to his songs as either “singer/songwriter crap” or “redneck music”).

Though Koppy asserts that original music is the currency of the realm, he also explains that he will always need to include two or three covers on his albums as a reference point to entice people to take a listen. “We did a version of ‘Alone Again Or’ for Ashmore’s Store. It’s been covered by three bands since 1970 — The Damned, Calexico and Love — and never ever recorded without a full horn section, a full string section and a full band. We cover it with just me (guitar, harmonica) and now drums.” Of course, Koppy also added a third verse and rewrote some of the lyrics.

Whether he is stirring up dust speeding down I-5 to L.A. in his truck “Old Paint,” or with his songs, at the end of the day, there is one thing that resonates most with Koppy: “You live one life.”

www.michaelkoppy.com