To define a category of music, one must fully saturate themselves within all aspects of the sound and visions created by the artist. This would involve taking apart all instruments to understand their purpose, hearing the words and stories created by carefully constructed lyrics, and understanding the history of the artist or band. Sometimes, the story behind the song can allow a deeper immersion into the music as a whole. Starting out as a DJ in a hip-hop band, Citizen Cope incorporates blues, folk, reggae, hip-hop and rock into himself; it is an integration of so much resonance, it is hard to pronounce what exact genre of music Citizen Cope is.
A writer from Rolling Stone called Citizen Cope (also known as Clarence Greenwood), "a modern day blues man who paints a plaintive portrait of the human condition." On this latest tour, he is stripping the stage of complicated instruments, leaving just himself and a guitar to offer up an acoustic set of well-received songs. Unlike many acoustic performances, Greenwood magically accompanies his voice and strumming with pre-recorded beats acting as an accessory of illumination. His recent show in Boulder, Colorado was an abrupt addition to his tour and offered up the instant reward of a sold-out performance.
Before entering the stage, fans eagerly awaited his entrance by preparing their lungs with pre-rolled joints and filling the air with enough smoke to create an ambiance of thick intoxication.
Greenwood walked up to the microphone, grabbed his guitar as though it held his next breath and began immediately playing. His deep voice charged through the room like dissected speakers going in for open-heart surgery--exposed, bleeding, honest. At least five different cups cluttered a tiny table beside him and before entering into his fourth song, he toasted the audience with a spoon lifted from the cup saying, "Anytime you have some real bad throat trouble, you have some honey. It's good. It's natural. Or maybe it's not."
The energy from the crowd was inspiring. He would play just two chords and they knew the exact song, ready to sing along with his complicated lyrics. As he segued into "Salvation", the rhythm machine became a synthesized band almost upstaging him with electrifying bass burning through chest cavities and floorboards. His set list pleased the crowd, including "Hurricane Waters", "Bullet and a Target", "Let the Drummer Kick", and "Sideways".
by Aimee Herman