Posted 7:07 PM by sport

Here's a selection of online reviews pertaining to my track on the KRS compilation "Mollie's Mix" …purely for the sake of scrapbooking, but there are, as always, a few parenthetical comments. I won't bother adding the urls. (Here goes…)

The compilation reaches an unexpected emotional peak with the 12th of its 21 tracks. Written by a man/group called Sport Murphy who lost a nephew - a firefighter on Sept. 11 2001 - the track "Beatles, Stepping Off The Plane" finds Murphy seeking repose in turmoil. He pretty much justifies and ridicules the entire music industry, capturing its potential for majesty, importance and excess all in a single refrain, in which he sings: "Time to show the Beatles stepping off the plane."
Aaron Davidson

(What I like about this, mostly, is being called a "man/group." It sounds like "mangrove," which is a tree, but I prefer to view the term as an implication that I am a bustling cluster of Busters; I am like one of those grubby posses in animated cartoons, the ones that move as one in a grumbling cloud of sage dust. Now, other than this, I suspect Mr. Davidson gives my novelty tune far too much credit, but since that's the opposite of what usually happens, I'll take it.)

Sport Murphy's Beatles Stepping off the Plane is like a history book of rock 'n' roll in a sense that not only covers every base of blatantly good songwriting, but also covers the history like an obituary,
Meredith Tucker

(Ms. Tucker calls my songwriting "blatantly good," which is a strange sort of phrase, but also one I'll accept with wanton gratitude. The last line (or - more accurately - the last third of the sentence) is either truly astute or totally off. I choose the former. It's a wrong read if she thinks I'm simply eulogizing rock, but not if she caught the context of the joke, as the next reviewer did)

Sport Murphy's "Beatles, Stepping off the Plane" is a far more entertaining gimmick, posing as the thought process behind putting together one of those self-important documentaries about the 1960s that all seem to follow the same outline.)
Christine Di Bella

(Now, praise be to the dread Dormammu, Ms. Di Bella GOT IT. It's nice - and woefully rare - when people "get it." Otherwise, even good reviews are suspect as evidence you did not convey your intentions clearly. Not that one must clearly convey intentions, or that enjoyment of a tune need be congruent with the composer's own design. But it must be a little frustrating to have the world laud you for inventing "Raid ant and roach spray" when you thought you'd come up with "Fox's U Bet vanilla syrup." Bear in mind, though, she says my song is nothing but a "gimmick" …which is true, but what pop music isn't? What's "Johnny B Goode," the cure for cancer?)

Sport Murphy's Uncle. Murphy made two or three albums, which I haven't heard. Anyway, a recent sampler I got (Mollie's Mix) had his song "Beatles, Stepping Off the Plane," in which the Beatle's arrival eradicates racism, the scourge of Pat Boone and pulls the bug out of Bono's ass. Sounds goofy, but what a great song. On his new album-Uncle-well, his uncle, a fireman, died in the World Trade Center and this is his response to working through the pain and loss of that. It's sort of like Springsteen's the Rising. It's not as depressing as it sounds though. There is pain, but it's more a celebration of a life and carrying on. Murphy is like Springsteen in some respects, both are great storytellers. He's a bit more adventuresome musically, like Tom Waits only slightly less so. The album has a lot of different musical styles from pub sing-a-longs to little moments of life. He's on the great Kill Rock Stars label, which means he'll never get the deserved exposure. Too bad, a great new voice in American music. Look him up on killrockstars.com to find his website and listen to some clips to see if you don't agree. I'm thinking this is someone RD might enjoy.
Matthew Smith

(Mr. Smith - unknown to me, as are the others - goes to the keyboard on my behalf several times at several sites, and the other two mini-reviews found are in accord with this longer one, from a message board of some sort. He gets special points for the ubiquity of his coverage, even if the part about how my being on KRS guarantees invisibility chills my very shit. Probably true, but then again, there are reasons Tom Waits and Nick Cave jumped the major-label ship too. Even if some psychotic at a major label signed me on a dare in some a drunken stupor, would they/could they sell me? Please. This man/group firmly believes the answer/s is/are: no/yes. They would not expend any effort to push my work, but despite what every fucking person I've ever met thinks, I COULD sell...

These records, made by dint of individual will for a fraction of the Cheese Doodles budget at a Radiohead session where the group ((not no man/group)) makes - in an atmosphere of complete, patient support - some dull-ass jizz-drift of an album, received now as genius but which will - mark my words - prove as timeless as Adam and the Ants, COULD sell. If I can manage to write that sentence without bursting my stitches, then goddammit I can sell! If you can make hear or tails of it, I'll buy you a lemon ice!

Mr. Smith calling me "a great new voice in American music" is flattering, but it's like calling McSorley's a "hot new nightspot." That isn't his fault, though.

These days, young Bob Dylan would be rotting away on KRS as well. When I say I am "not ready for the big time" or that my stuff is comparable to some piece of coil pottery, I am not insulting MYSELF, mind you. I am absolved. I am pure. I am about to begin a new album, so fuck all ye beaters and breakers, and hail ye good reviewers various. Gangway for the man/group undaunted.

Here concludes the gleanings of www.commentary on a tune trivial and obscure even by my standards. )