Meet Ross Copperman - The boy from Roanoke, Virginia (the nearest big city is Washington DC, 170 miles north). He's sung for as long as he can remember and he'll tell you about being five years old and wailing along to the car radio with Mom. But what marks him out, in a region where even the postman sings a bit, is his ability to turn the music in his head into widescreen tunes. That's widescreen as in sweeping melodies and spacious choruses, but his emotive, scuffed-up voice bestows an intimac...
Meet Ross Copperman - The boy from Roanoke, Virginia (the nearest big city is Washington DC, 170 miles north). He's sung for as long as he can remember and he'll tell you about being five years old and wailing along to the car radio with Mom. But what marks him out, in a region where even the postman sings a bit, is his ability to turn the music in his head into widescreen tunes. That's widescreen as in sweeping melodies and spacious choruses, but his emotive, scuffed-up voice bestows an intimacy that makes each song feel as if it were written for the listener alone. Ross started to write songs at college. The first song he wrote Fly Away, which appears on his forthcoming debut album, caused his teacher to convince him to take it up professionally. He did. He soon won several prestigious competitions, one of which earned him a 40-date US college tour. It didnt take long for word to spread in the industry and several record companies were offering deals. He eventually took the decision of signing to UK label Phonogenic / RCA Records. Musically Ross can be described as a blue eyed soul boy of indie-rock. Aside from drawing on the rich history of musical culture in his surrounding landscape, Ross spent much of his youth plugged into what was happening on this side of the pond: Muse, Radiohead, Oasis, Led Zeppelin to name but a few. Now relocated, and getting used to the lack of air conditioning and bad weather, hes putting the finishing touches to his debut album. Ross has arrived at a time when quality young male singers are on the up. The door is open. A striking Southerner is about to walk through it.
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