Celestaphone :: Paper Cut From the Obit

When the subject of your review is named Celestaphone you already know things are going to get interesting — and possibly even weird. “Paper Cut From the Obit” doesn’t disappoint on either count, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me start by introducing you to Joseph Murphy. He was born in Riverside, California in 1996 and his bio claims without references that “he came from a family of musicians.” I don’t dispute that fact, I just don’t have the proof in writing. Musically the proof is all over this album. Murphy is an emcee when the need arises, but he is a producer first, and you can hear his love of music all over songs like “Day.” This track isn’t so much rap as it is FUNK. I’d even dare to call it P-Funk and I don’t think the comparison would offend him. The layers of instrumentation, the slap of the bass, the extemporaneous musical freestyling, it’s all there. If you’re not bobbing your head to this song your neck might snap off in protest.

Celestaphone operates on the periphery of recognition by design, so it comes as no surprise to find his rap collaborators do as well. Take the seldom discussed and well overlooked MC Paul Barman for example, who has formed such a strong connection with Murphy that they’ve done entire albums together. This time though he’s limited to one appearance on the album’s finale “Babies,” but if you skip ahead to check it out and then go back for the rest of the LP, I won’t blame you. Go on, “DO IT.”

And as outsiders inside rap music go they don’t get much further from the mainstream than Defcee or R.A.P. Ferreira. The fact both appear on “Gravid Patch” is a treat to hardcore underground rap fans and a sign of how insular this album’s appeal may be. That’s a shame given the laconic piano and drums are perfect for any rapper and doubly so for Celestaphone’s guest stars. I’m not crying about it because all three of these artists are succeeding in rap, they are just doing so on their own terms without making any compromises to their vision.

“Paper Cut From the Obit” finds Mr. Murphy a reluctant vocalist. The funky “Nay” could be his signature statement without saying a word, as even the song’s title shows he declines to utter a word. He’s wrong to think we don’t want to hear him though. “Paintings of Panspermia” is exceedingly verbal. It’s the kind of song you might expect an acid tripping Aceyalone or D-Sisive to write. You expect me not to love this shit? I write for a living. Seeing an artist nerd out with their pen is my jam. Murphy pours his love of words into these bars and creates incredibly dense interwoven narrative bars.

“Einstein disproven, epistemological anarchism spawned
All theories can be wrong, so show me phenomenon
Entertainment matrix, you pay to be the greatest
Businesses are just slave ships, pick a suit to get raped in”

Are you feeling what I’m putting down here? Celestaphone is DIFFERENT by design. The kind of music he makes, the kind of artists he collaborates with, his entire career path is to find the nearest stream and step outside of it. The danger in doing so is that you get labeled as “pretentious” or “nerdy” or “backpacker rap.” Are those even real dangers any more? There might have been a time in rap’s history where having a certain amount of street cred was necessary, but it’s hardly a barrier to entry in a time where people get high on lean and sing about their feelings while calling it hip-hop. I’m going to suggest to you that the nerd credentials of Joseph Murphy hew closer to the roots of rap’s origins than 98% of anything you’ll hear on the radio. If he’s not for you then we’ll agree to disagree.