Kevin So

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THE CHINESE-AMERICAN RICKY MARTIN?

KEVIN SO WOULD RATHER BE HIS CULTURE'S BOB DYLAN

By Monica Eng, Chicago Tribune Staff Writer

April 14, 2000

Like a lot of kids who grew up in the '70s and '80s,

singer-songwriter Kevin So harbored dreams of

becoming the next Michael Jackson.

"I remember going over to my relatives' house every

Sunday," says So. "My aunt would make dim sum, and

my cousin Vinny would show me his latest records. I

remember when he got Michael Jackson's `Off the

Wall,' he played it for me, and I just remember staring at

the vinyl and thinking, `Wow."'

To So, his musical dreams and love of R&B were

completely natural. But to his Chinese immigrant parents,

they were whacky. America, they felt, would never

accept an Asian-looking pop sensation.

"They said, `Look, you can be a doctor or a lawyer, but

you can't be a pop star,"' the musician remembers as he

restrings his old Gibson guitar on the floor of his Wicker

Park apartment. "They told me, `You are not going to

be the next Bobby Brown or Michael Jackson, at least

not here in America.'"

Now a rising folk performer, So remembers his parents'

comments less with bitterness than as an inspiration to

break new ground for Asian-Americans who think they

have no place in American popular musical culture.

Consequently, in addition to his bluesy ballads about

faded love and the open road, So has crafted humorous

and warmly melodic tales of Chinese-American life,

immigrant family struggles and race relations.

He'll perform these songs Friday night on a double bill

with Justin Earle (folk rocker Steve Earle's son) at

Winner's Bar & Grill (4530 N. Lincoln Ave.) and an all

ages show Saturday at The Heartland Caf (7000 N.

Glenwood Ave.).

During his five years as a folk performer, So has

released four fine, independently produced CDs

(available only through kevinso.com), exploring his

experiences as traveler, artist and immigrant son. But his

latest, the aptly named "Different," features a decidedly

more soulful sound along with songs that examine issues

of change and displacement.

It's no coincidence that they were all written after So

pulled up roots in New England last September and

moved to Chicago.

A native of the Boston area and one of the few real

townies on the crowded bean town folk scene, So felt

like he had to get away from New England for several

reasons.

"I left Boston because I wanted to expand my horizons

and to build a new audience," says the

late-twentysomething performer. "I figured Chicago is

cold but the people are friendly and it is not that far

away from Boston. More important, I was seeking the

muse of soul music and R&B, and a lot of the music I

love came from and was filtered through here.

"Part of me also just wanted to get away from the

craziness of Boston. Once I got popular I found it really

hard to cope with it on an artistic level. Everyone knew

who I was and they had certain expectations for certain

songs and I just kind of wanted to break free of that. So

I just wanted to go to Chicago and disappear."

His move also allowed So to leave behind a habit that

had started to eat into his productivity as an artist.

"I didn't want to be one of those people who really

messed up their career with pot, so on Aug. 22, I just

stopped," he says, from the sun-dappled floor of his

apartment as Sam Cooke drifts out of the stereo.

"Today, I feel incredible, I feel healthy and like I am

getting my edge back. I feel I have got so much more

focus and I love my job again. I love to connect with my

audience and if I'm stoned then they're not really getting

the attention they deserve."

Although Chicago has turned out to be a good fit, it

wasn't So's first choice. Ever since he attended his first

Kerrville Folk Festival in 1996, he has thought of Austin,

Texas, as his second home. With nothing more than a

guitar and a box of demo tapes, So worked (and

played) his way up from festival volunteer to main stage

performer (standing between Peter Yarrow and Paul

Stookey) that first year and has returned every spring

since.

"I got down to the festival and people in Texas really

took to my music, more than even in Boston," says the

songwriter, whose strong lyricism and laid back

melodies sound right at home in the land of Townes Van

Zandt. "So my first choice was Austin, but it's so far

away that I wouldn't be able to get back to Boston as

often."

Brought up on pop music and classical piano and violin

(an obligatory part of every Asian-American kid's

childhood), then educated at the University of Southern

California as a jazz studies major, So was a relative

stranger to folk music before a friend introduced him to

the music of Bob Dylan in his post-college years. Oddly,

these folk discovery years coincided with So's time

playing piano "for Elvis and Tina Turner impersonators in

this cheesy Vegas style revue on a cruise ship" and then

touring the country in a cover band called XPO.

"We played cover music, Boyz II Men, Brandy and

dance music like `You got to show me love, blah blah,'"

he sings in a falsetto. "So for my job I was doing this

lounge stuff and then I would go back to my room and

listen to Robert Johnson and Bob Dylan and all these

acoustic songs. Finally, I left the cover band because I

wanted to pursue my own music, whether I fell on my

face or what."

But So didn't fall on his face. He moved back in with his

parents (who despite their hopes of his finding a real

profession always supported him), did some more

writing and hit the Boston open-mike scene. There he

picked up the ropes of being folk singer, learning how to

interact with an audience, how to book his own shows

and how to make his own flyers.

It's also where he found his voice as an Asian-American

songwriter, one who wasn't afraid to draw from his own

heritage to create music. What came out are songs like

"Stanley Chin," that, despite the name change, is about

So's father's frustration over his son's refusal to take

over the family restaurant business; "Dragon Lady,"

about So's mother's lost dreams; and "Just Like You

(I'm an American)," a playful tune So wrote in response

to a headline that read "American beats Michelle

Kwan."

Although there are a growing number of

Asian-Americans breaking into the national music scene,

including Seam, "Big Head" Todd Park Mohr, James

Iha, Anna Fermin and Tatsu Aioki, few incorporate their

backgrounds into their music as openly as So, who was

dubbed by his first producer as "the Amy Tan of the

singer-songwriter world."

"I remember my parents telling me that there are no

Asian male pop stars and so what made me think I

could make it," he says. "Well, first, that's not really why

I'm doing it. And second, if I don't try, then I may see

somebody come along and think, Man, they're not doing

it right. So at least I am not sitting on my butt. I am out

there trying to make change.

"I think it is the artist's responsibility to create a picture

of reality and I would hope that reality would make

someone feel like they're not alone, like this goes on in

my household too. That is the stuff that really moves me

and resonates. I write about [Chinese-American life] not

just to raise consciousness, to educate people but to

show them the beauty in that life, the beauty in the

culture."