Review Two-Fer: Mr. Richard / Roy Handy and the Moonshot

Folks like Justin Roberts or Recess Monkey aren't the only kids' musicians who can write a musical earworm that will get stuck in your kid's (and, by extension, your) head. Here are a couple albums by lesser-known artists with their own fair share of hooks. Florida's Mr. Richard (Richard Peeples) has released his fourth album, Backyard Astronauts, which continues his lo-fi indie-pop work often filtered through the perspective of the wisecracking older brother (Sample lyric from "5-Second Rule": "A pizza slice landed right-side up / If I can just grab it fast enough / I count out loud one two three four / And hope it doesn't taste like floor"). And while he'll write a song making fun of not using "The Good Towels," he's occasionally sweet (on "Birthday Wish," the narrator wishes it was his "birthday everyday," in part so his best friend won't have to move). Peeples' music will remind listeners of R.E.M. and Jonathan Richman, which are not bad musicians to echo. (I also particularly enjoy the bass work on tracks like "Saturday Morning Cereal Bowl"). You can sample the music from the 31-minute album here (and download "Garbage Man" here). The album is most appropriate for kids ages 4 through 9. It's his best album yet.

If Mr. Richard takes a jangly-pop approach from the '70s to his songs, on his second album Holy Cow!, Gerry Stanek AKA Roy Handy and the Moonshot draws from the rawk of the '60s, with a lot of British Invason influence. Like Mr. Richard, however, Stanek has a bit of a sarcastic streak that will enamor him to the young wiseacres (and perhaps their wiseacre parents). The title track is the most bracing opening song of the year (and my favorite on the album), but if you're looking for a gentler, almost wistful tune, I'd suggest "Tilt-A-Whirl," about going to the local fair and going on the titular ride. You can listen to "Holy Cow" and the '50s harmonizing on "When It's Time to Go" here (or listen to samples at Amazon or iTunes). The 16-minute EP is most appropriate for kids ages 3 through 7 and shows continued growth from his enjoyable debut I'm Gonna Be (Your Best Friend). Neither album is without flaws -- Backyard Astronauts could use a little more polish and lyrical tightening, while the songs Holy Cow! could probably be fleshed out just a little more (he's not the Ramones). But those are concerns more for the middle-aged parent who might have to listen to the disks repeatedly at the request of their kids who'll want to play them a lot. If anything, these albums prove that if you can't find kids music with a bunch of catchy melodies, you're not looking hard at all. Recommended.

Review: Tumble Bee - Laura Veirs

Looking to take a bit of a break after a long tour and giving birth to her son, Portland-based singer-songwriter Laura Veirs decided to do a kids album. But instead of writing a dozen or more songs with kid-friendly themes, she decided to research kid-appropriate folk songs. The result is titled Tumble Bee: Laura Veirs Sings Folk Songs for Children -- a simple, direct title reflecting the simple, direct music inside. Many of the dozen songs (plus an instrumental reprise) on Tumble Bee will sound familiar to a long-term listener of music for kids or anyone who has more than a couple Smithsonian Folkways albums. (There is but one wholly original track, the title cut.) "All the Pretty Little Horses," "The Fox," "King Kong Kitchie Kitchie Ki Me O" -- these aren't songs that Veirs rescues from obscurity -- they're part of the (American) folk canon. Nor is "Jump Down Spin Around," which Raffi nicked from Leadbelly (and recorded it as "Pick a Bale o' Cotton"). But that latter track -- which Veirs credits to Harry Belafonte (she was struck by his version of the track) -- is given an extra boost of energy on the new album, with a chorus of friends singing along in response to Veirs' words and adding a few stomps for emphasis. I'd call Tucker Martine's production of his wife's music as unfussy, designed to highlight Veirs' voice and the classic melodies -- why get in the way? Bela Fleck provides lovely (but not showy) banjo work on on "King Kong Kitchie." Colin Meloy duets with Veirs on "Soldier's Joy," making it sound a little bit like a track from some Bizarro Decemberists album where all the song have happy endings. And perhaps my favorite vocal turn is from Veirs herself, yodeling on "Prairie Lullaby." Given the timeless nature of many of these songs, my typical suggestion of an age range is somewhat foolish, but it'll probably be more appreciated by kids ages 3 and up. (Though perhaps if you start younger, by the time they hit preschool they'll have all the lyrics to "The Fox" memorized.) You can sample the disk anywhere, but for a little while longer, go here to stream the album. Tumble Bee is a lovely album through and through. Fans of Elizabeth Mitchell's and Dan Zanes' family albums should be especially drawn to it, though this trawls narrower, folkier waters. But it also compares well to albums of Mitchell's Smithsonian Folkways predecessors like Pete Seeger and Leadbelly. Methinks Ruth Crawford Seeger, another one of Veirs' inspirations for the album, would be proud of it. It's a small gem, and while it's not actually a Folkways album, it's a kindred spirit to that tradition. Highly recommended.

Itty-Bitty Review: Golden Kids Rules - Chip Taylor and the Grandkids

Chip Taylor is a name that might not be immediately familiar to you, but some of the songs he wrote -- "Wild Thing," "Angel of the Morning" -- probably are. On his new Smithsonian Folkways album Golden Kids Rules, Taylor is joined by 3 granddaughters -- the "Grandkids" -- to sing some songs which trade in the urgency of "Wild Thing" for the experienced perspective of a grandparent. Which, yeah, I know sounds dull, but it's really not. On "I'm Just Thinkin' About What I'm Thinkin' About," Taylor sounds like John Prine channeling a daydreaming kid. "Quarter Moon Shining" might be the most beautiful song I've heard all year, filled with questions all kids ask -- "what's beyond the sky?," "how high do birds fly?," "when old dogs die, where do they go?" -- and (some) answers from Taylor, in a soaring chorus. The grandkids are not an afterthought -- they sing on every track. I don't think you'll tire of their voices -- they sound like real kids singing (in tune), rather than KidzBop shouters. The project started when Taylor wrote some songs for the wedding of his son Kristian. He wrote three songs for he and his grandkids to perform the wedding, included here at the end of the album. Despite the very personal nature of the project, it's to Taylor's credit that the three songs have enough universality to them to make me, someone who's never met Kristian and his wife Anna, understand the songs anyway. (With just a little bit of lyrical tweaking, "Happy Wedding" could easily become a joyful reception staple for any wedding.) With the exception of "Kids to Save the Planet," which is the only overt "do this!" song and therefore the least interesting one on the album, Taylor's guidance is offered gently and obliquely. The 38-minute album is most appropriate for kids ages 4 through 9. You can download the title track and listen to samples from the rest here. As with all Smithsonian Folkways disks, the liner notes are excellent. Golden Kids Rules would be a perfect "from the grandparents" gift to your kids, but even if you're not receiving the AARP magazine just yet, you (and your kids), you'll probably enjoy the warmth and good humor in these folk-rock melodies. Recommended. Disclosure: I received a copy of this album for possible review.

Itty-Bitty Review: Get Up and Go - The Biscuit Brothers

What do I have to do, people? I tell you -- repeatedly -- about Austin's Biscuit Brothers, and yet they're still not internationally-loved kids music stars. I suppose I could tell you how Get Up and Go, their fifth and latest album, continues what the Biscuit Brothers have done from the beginning of their TV show (now entering their sixth season on a variety of PBS stations) -- seamlessly blend top-notch musical performances with entry-level musical education. It's always been liking hiding the shredded carrots in the mac-and-cheese, and a song like "Tempo Tongue Twister," featuring the always hysterical Tiny Scarecrow singing a tongue twister that gradually increases in speed (aka tempo) is a perfect example of that. [Note: Tiny Scarecrow doesn't play quite as large a role on this album as he does on others, so those of you who are fans -- e.g., me -- should take note.] But really, why bother? Why tell you that the Biscuit Brothers band, though Americana country and folk is its home territory, covers the genre ground from zydeco ("The Crawdad Song," of course) to jazz ("Bill Bailey") to surf-rock ("Dance Party") to funk (the title track) with aplomb just as they've always done if you're not going to buy the albums or watch clips from the shows. There's no point in telling you that there is more pure joy on a Biscuit Brothers album than almost any other kids music album (which is already a fairly high-joy genre) -- their version of "Little Red Caboose" may be the most fun track I've heard all year. So go ahead. Ignore me. Your kids aged 3 through 8 who would get the most out of this album can ignore me, too. Get Up and Go is yet another solid album of traditional favorites done fresh and with good humor, mixed in with a few originals, an album which would be a good entry point for non-fans into the Biscuit Brothers show. It's definitely recommended, not that you care.

Review Two-Fer: Papa Crow / Chuck Cheesman

I don't think that Jeff Krebs and Chuck Cheesman are the same person. Having said that, I've never seen the two bearded guitarists in the same place at the same time, and some of the similarities on their new albums leave the question open in my eyes. The kindie world is very focused on rock and pop and sometimes other genres at the moment, which leaves the folk music that for many years was the backbone of the genre somehat pushed to the background. As a result, these two albums stand out more than they might have ten or twenty years ago.

I've long been a fan of Chuck Cheesman, a former Old Town School of Folk Music Wiggleworms teacher who now lives in the pines of Northern Arizona in Flagstaff. His first album for families, A Family Handbook, was a solid record of mostly traditional tunes, and his just-released second kids' album Dancing With No Shoes On is just as solid. It's an occasionally goofy, occasionally heartfelt, always warm collection of songs. It's folk music that draws no small amount of inspiration from Woody Guthrie (see "Seafood Song" or "A Big Dog Ate My Homework," perhaps). Given his longtime experience playing for kids, he's got a good sense of what kids will respond to, songs like the banjo-aided "Chocolate-Covered Brussels Sprouts" and the bluesy (natch) "Milkstache Blues." It's a mostly upbeat, sunny approach -- something to play in the summer, or maybe a warm Northern Arizona fall. The 35-minute album (which includes 4 songs heard on his first album) is most appropriate for kids ages 3 through 7; you can hear song clips here. If Dancing with No Shoes On is a sunny, almost summer-y folk album, Things That Roar, Jeff Krebs' (aka Papa Crow) first album for families is a little more hushed, a Michigan winter to Cheesman's Arizona mountain summer. Nothing is being reinvented here (OK, maybe the beat loops on "High Up on a String" are a little new), but the 14 originals are put together with care. It's not just a guy and a guitar -- it features (among other things) accordion, banjo, sleigh bells, and a couple nice duet turns by Kerry Yost. Krebs has an appealing voice himself and shows off some nifty guitar and ukulele work on songs like "Polar Bear in a Snowstorm" and "Ukulele." And if "Chicken Lips" doesn't become a minor radio hit, I'll be sorely disappointed. Kids ages 2 through 7 will most appreciate the songs here. You can hear some songs from the 32-minute album at the Papa Crow ReverbNation page. When I mentioned this as one of my favorite new albums of the fall, I deliberately included Crow along with Dan Zanes, one of his inspirations. Things That Roar is a gentle breath of fresh air, and maybe my desire for cooler weather caused me to prefer that to Dancing With No Shoes On, but they're both fine albums. Chuck Cheesman is one of those artists who, if they were in a larger market, would be much better known; Dancing With No Shoes On is just an excellent collection of new and folk music. And while Papa Crow's got a ways to go to reach the heights of Zanes or Elizabeth Mitchell or Frances England, artists who've inspired him, but Things That Roar is a small delight and fans of those artists will probably find in Papa Crow someone they want to hear more of as well. Both albums are definitely recommended.

Itty-Bitty Review: Colonel Purple Turtle - Rocknoceros

While DC-area heroes Rocknoceros have the chops to write nothing but hook-filled pop-rock tunes, they've always been interested in taking detours musically -- think back to the meta-song "Trying to Write a Song" from their debut. On Colonel Purple Turtle, their fourth album, the detours become the journey -- few songs here could be recognized as pure pop-rock candy. Which isn't to say there aren't several catchy hooks -- the hilariously cliche-tastic "Early Worm" is a bit of southern alt-country, while the repeating, driving melody of the title track will stick in your head (repeatedly). It's just that the band would rather explore a wide range of genres (sea shanty, babershop quartet, disco, and jazz, to name a few more) or channel, say, Wilco at its mellowest ("Sprouted") or mid-period Beatles ("Echolocation"). The songs tell the stories of the animals of Soggy Bog, where Colonel Purple Turtle lives. Yes, it's a concept album, but for the most part the concept is loose -- the record's mostly a collection of occasionally fanciful character sketches about animals with personalities. (I've not seen the accompanying book, which may or may not provide your kids with additional context behind the songs.) If this all sounds a bit... weird and disjointed, well, it is. I've listened to it several times, and every time I do I'm struck by how odd the overall impression is. It's a fun -- and continually surprising -- album. The 47-minute album is most appropriate for kids ages 4 through 8. (You can hear samples at your favorite internet retailers, or try YouTube for some live versions.) Colonel Purple Turtle is a big ol' grab-bag of styles and as a result might not be everyone's cup of tea, but Rocknoceros fans should enjoy it (they probably have it already) and I'm pretty sure that everyone will find at least a couple songs that appeal to them. Recommended.