My whole life, I've been trying to beat the system. I veered towards music early on, thinking clever thoughts. But as you've probably known all along, just like everything else on Big Brother's good green Earth, the world of music is a "system" all its own. And in my case, so far it has been the one giving the beating!

So imagine yourself strolling down to the post office as I did one find day, yellow slip in hand, expecting another bizarre care-package from Dear Old Mum, only to discover a very different parcel indeed - The Complete Works Of David Shepherd Grossman: The Boxed Set (Songsmith Records).It was heavy and sturdy. It had arrived completely out of the blue, and it demanded to be reckoned with.

First, I just looked at it. I sat it up and observed it from across the room. Then I turned it around so the spines of all the Cds were facing out and I observed it again. When you work in the music business, you see truckloads of albums arrive unannounced in the mail, and some are packaged in pretty interesting ways (one band sent a cassette in a cardboard box that had been cut into the shape of a giant foot). This thing, though, was different than anything I had ever seen. Half furniture and half art project, it sort of called out, as if to say, "I'm here!"

I soon found that everyone in its proximity would be immediately compelled to make a similar query: Not quite, "Who is David Grossman?" but more like "Wait... who is David Grossman?!"

Here in New York City, absolutely everyone is obsessed with forward motion, and if you're not, this town basically rolls over you like a steamroller. Second to motion, there is an almost demonic need for validation. So if you walk up to a Manhattanite and point to yourself and explain that you've "arrived," I promise you the reaction will be "Yeah? Who says?"

But the Grossman Box was appearing to short-circuit cross examination; it was imposing, and it said, "I'm here." Even though almost nobody seemed to know who Grossman was.

Upon perusing the daunting item, I learned that there had been some notable omissions, although most of the chestnuts and the transitional phases had been captured, re-mastered and annotated so that the listener could easily follow the unusual thread that makes up Grossman's life as an artist. Folk music has always seemed to me to be a genre more befitting the world weary. Yet oddly enough, Grossman was truly a folk prodigy at age thirteen, He had that peculiar child-star aura of complexity that implied a different road lay in wait for him.

Those San Francisco beginnings are documented in part here, starting with an obvious campfire-classic tune, "Blooming Grove Valley." Also included is a bit of kitsch that the young performer would nearly lament composing ("Video Games wound up being the only song anyone wanted me to sing for about two years." he recalls in the liner notes).

From Graffiti (Grossman's first official release), songs like "Dream Machine" demonstrated a lean towards pop/rock as well as infusing his previously optimistic sound with an element of wariness. Perhaps it served as foreshadowing, as the teenaged Grossman was developing notoriety as a Bay Area singer/songwriter, appearing at festivals and venues like The Great American Music Hall. With user-friendly nuggets like "Zoo Blues" (in which he successfully delivered lines such as "I got them Zoo Blues/on the other side of the cage"), it seemed Grossman was on his way, as the local press pegged him as someone to watch.

But for one reason or another, Grossman did not encounter that kind of luck. In fact, it must be said that aside from having artistic talent, luck has generally not been Grossman's thing. Left without any reliable guidance in the years that would follow, he nonetheless attempted to forge ahead, though very difficult times would prove inevitable (the details can be explored in Grossman's book, Six Months. Yes, a book!).

In time, he released Words And Miles (In which he is backed by the Bay Area's The Breakdown), which garnered 5 stars in California's BAM magazine and paired an open-sounding, full band presentation with Grossman's lyrical twists and unique sense of humor. Yet the album never took hold commercially as was hoped. Just the name, on this disc, Grossman shows a greater degree of honesty and subjectivity mingling with his skills as a craftsman (ie: "Your New World, in which he sings "your love fits like a uniform/but it reads like an out of state map.

But it isn't until some years later with Junkman's Journey that Grossman comes to terms with the isolation that has marked a great portion of his existence, and in many ways, it encompasses his most substantial work. Perhaps best taken as Grossman's Nebraska, songs like the decidedly un-wistful "Headstrong" and the ghostly "Abduction" comprises a 180° to the determined hopefulness of a few years before. Confessions like "I never felt alone/until I had someone to leave me" (from "The Fool In Me") are suspended in an appropriately eerie setting. Grossman had taped the songs as more or less of an impromptu demo for his band, only to discover that the recordings had distilled something exceptionally emotional.

Grossman has always been comfortable with oddity, and listeners may find the chance to discover him at his oddest on The Woodband: Live At The Balboa Cafe (also referred to here as The "Woodband"). Despite having logged a huge number of gigs, one gets a feeling that this was a project designed to thwart expectations - especially with demented singalongs like "Stoned, Drunk, Bummed Out at Denny's". With a bit of vitriol, Grossman also explores the absurdity of his experiences.

But next Grossman returned to a more pensive sound with the quietly anguished In Sight (1997), his last formal album. The record finds the songwriter observing himself emerging from a kind of spiritual quicksand with a steadiness that results in gems like "Back Down" and "It Takes Love". Still presented rather than simply, the timbres and compositions reveal an element of ease that harkens back to his very early days.

Yet with this threatening boxed set, Grossman has issued a unique and extremely relevant message to our current m? Perhaps with this collection, he can be seen as blazing the trail for the endless barrage of guitar-toting wannabes, or maybe his fledgling company, Songsmith, can be viewed as having topped the ladder of defiant futility with this pricey and unusual item. But unlike many who have tried before, Grossman's point is well-made: assuming you've got the goods... you've "made it" when you say you have.

And as the titanic music conglomerates are increasingly forced to nervously pursue the Ricky Martins of tomorrow, Grossman has demonstrated something unshakable. He has proved that he is a career artist, with a real past and a real future - none of which can be manufactured, borrowed or contrived. Whither or not everybody knows it, David Grossman has found a way to beat the system.

Computer folks can find out more about David Grossman at : www.davidgrossman.com or www.amazon.com or www.mp3.com.

Aaron Hondros is a songwriter, performer, and musician based in New York City. He also recently signed Adrian Belew (the album Salad Days) to Thirsty Ear Records.