To hear a prolific musician for the first time, especially one who has supposedly written over 1,000 pieces of music, is a little like witnessing an exotic sport in action -- Jai-Alai, Log Rolling, Mayan basketball. From the start, you wonder what in the world is going on and how in the world it's managed to go on for so long. Such is the case with this idiosyncratic disc of piano-based pop and new-agey film score material from self-proclaimed "extreme recluse" Michael Lovitt. Apparently ill advised in his choice of previous recording venues, including the erotically inclined Backroom Studios, Lovitt steps out here with something quite curious. Strains of Eric Satie's Gymnopedies ("Ponderosa") quietly collide with zippy keyboard runs ("Last Call") and occasional disco-fied rhythmic backings ("Skanksville"). If this doesn't always work in a conventional pop manner, it definitely strikes a chord in a more personal folk-art sort of way. Lovitt has clearly developed this sound with an ear to his own tastes and not to industry standards. I'm not ruling out the possibility that this disc could provide the score to some equally individualistic film, but Lovitt is certainly not for everyone. If you can see the charm of a rainy day, the victory in defeat, or more generally, the value of someone's highly impassioned pursuit regardless of outcome, then The Ship Of Fools may be for you.