Paul K

First encounter: About thirty-five years ago, 1982 I think, I lived in an apartment on Lunt Ave. near the el tracks in Rogers Park. It was there that I met a young man named Paul Kopasz. Some friends of mine, musicians from Kentucky with a band called The Chinese, were in Chicago to play at the Cubby Bear, and I put the bunch of them up. Paul was a tall, gangly teenage kid with a tousle of dark hair, looking like somebody who read Kerouac as a guide for living. It was his first time in Chicago and he was excited and grateful to be there. He asked a lot of questions about things I don't remember, the band played the gig, and I never saw the kid again. That's how I remember him--the kid.
Second encounter: But I did see him again--early nineties. Eleventh Dream Day was touring, and landed in Lexington. Paul K. and the Weathermen were on the bill. I remember being fairly blown away. They played it pretty straight in terms of the songwriting--a lot more traditional than my band, but Paul had a powerful voice and played an acoustic in an astonishingly electric way that took the top off your head. The kid had a band and it was good. I can't say I followed him much after that. I was too wrapped up writing my own songs and our paths didn't cross on our many tours across America and Europe. But I have a lot of friends who were true believers and knew him for the legend he was and still is and own every song on his many recordings.
Cut to now: I was staying in an apartment above the restaurant Decca in Louisville after spinning records in the bar, when I spied a guest book, and started flipping through it. There was Paul K giving thanks to the owner, Chad, and his address was there. So, I wrote him. Asked him 'sup and howyadoin. And he sent me a bunch of stuff including the amazing documentary "A Wilderness of Mirrors" that is an unflinching look at Paul and his music and his hard living. We talked on the phone and somehow ended up playing some acoustic shows together. And then he dialed me up to record a bunch of songs here in Chicago with Glenn Kotche, Steve Poulton, Deanna Varagona, and  Scott Ligon. No rehearsals--just playing. And it sounded like magic to me.
Paul has a gift of a voice, one of those rich gifts that singers like  Leonard Cohen and Townes Van Zandt have. And he can write lyrics worthy of those two also. You should see him. He ain't no kid anymore.