Smidley

Instead of letting Smidley devolve into a desperate vanity project or walking away from music entirely, Conor Murphy is immersing himself in his own potential. In the past ten years, Murphy the person and Smidley the band have come to exist beyond the mere creative overflow left unexplored in his work with Foxing. It’s a common and often perfunctory dilemma for an artist coming from a recently defunct ensemble. Through his own growth in and out of Smidley, though, art and life itself have entered into an ongoing cycle of redefinition. This redefinition isn’t a destination, but a new pathway paved by Murphy’s gratitude for and security in the artist, husband, and man that he’s become. Smidley’s third album, Murphy Horse, soundtracks this journey.

The ephemerality of the present, and any confidence in it, is often simultaneously an artist’s greatest fear and motivation. Murphy, fearing the end of his dream, began taking stock of his legacy and life. As Foxing continued to hunch under the emotional ceiling they’d hit, Smidley, which existed tangentially to Foxing, would become more and more of an outlet for Murphy and Foxing bassist Brett Torrence, now on guitar, to continue writing and composing. During this time, Smidley began to transition from a closely sung, predominantly folky project to a more ambitious indie pop and rock ensemble completed by bassist Mitch Renfrew and drummer Jack Middeke.

Murphy Horse begins and largely resides at a crossroads in his life, each song a representation of Murphy’s inner conflict between his personal and professional selves.

“I’ve always hoped I could end my career in music with dignity and greet death as an old friend,” says Murphy. “The hardest part of that is trying to actually recognize death when it comes. So rather than pack it in and find an honest job, I decided to put the crossroads on display.”