Itty-Bitty Review: These Are My Friends - Alastair Moock

True confession time: I almost never listen to Woody Guthrie's kids' music records. Oh, sure, I liked them, but if you check out that link, you'll note that while I think Guthrie's a great and prolific songwriter, I'm not a big fan of Guthrie's voice or his production. (Note: neither is Robert Christgau, it would seem.) Which brings us to Massachusetts musician Alastair Moock and his new album These Are My Friends. On this, his second album for kids, Moock dives even deeper into the wordplay and preschool-friendly songs that were Guthrie's strengths. Guthrie would be proud to call many of these songs his own (heck, he already has, at least in the case of "Mail Myself To You," which Moock covers appealingly). "CBAs and a Twinkle Baa" is a stone-cold mixed-up kindie classic, guaranteed to leave a group of 4-year-olds laughing. (Or hopelessly confused, if the inscrutable "From Me To You" hasn't already.) And unlike Guthrie's lo-fi productions and voice, Moock's got an appealing (if gravelly) voice and a relaxed but clean sound on the album. Moock also draws on a wide variety of guest artists, including Rani Arbo (the chipper "Feets Up"), Anand Nayak (who helped produce the album and joins Mook and "Born to Dance"), Mark Erelli (a bluesy "Ladybugs' Picnic"), and Kris Delmhorst (a lovely "Green Green Rocky Road"). And none of the guests feel out of place, tacked on just to impress -- "These Are My Friends," indeed. The 37-minute album will be most appreciated by kids ages 3 through 7. You can listen to samples here. On These Are My Friends, Alastair Moock provides fresh folk for fresh folk, a worthy 21st-century spiritual successor to Guthrie's music. It's a solid album Woody would dig. Recommended. Disclosure: I received a copy of the album for possible review.

Itty-Bitty Review: Practically Ridiculous - The Jimmies

Somebody just go ahead and give Ashley Albert her own TV show already. In fact, she has indeed been looking for a show, and why anyone as talented as Albert (and as willing to send photos of her wearing a fake mustache as her press shot) isn't yet somewhere on live-action TV is a little mystifying to me. But for now Albert -- kindie's Lucille Ball -- is content to rock out with The Jimmies. On the Jimmies' long-in-the-recording second album, the recently-released Practically Ridiculous, Albert continues the formula for success that made their debut CD Make Your Own Someday so winning: channeling one's inner eight-year-old attitude while marshaling top-notch pop-rock music production as backup for said thoughts. Stylistically, sartorially, and practically (she's the one constant Jimmie at this point and the songs are all hers), Albert is kindie rock's Gwen Stefani, and on Practically Ridiculous, she polishes most songs to a glitzy pop-rock shine. You can practically smell the hairspray through the iPod on some of the songs, like the blitzing "Birthday," whereas songs like "Minivan Hotrod" or "Career Day" sound like the beats and the AutoTune were stolen from another, much less funny track. And, really, it's bringing the funny that separates the Jimmies from a lot of other kids' acts. It's one thing to be excited about getting a pet ("Gonna Get a Hamster"), it's another thing entirely to really sell the enthusiasm when Albert as the song's narrator finds out that the hamster won't necessarily do everything she thought ("I'M... STILL... gonna get a hamster..."). This is where her years of experience doing voiceover work comes in handy. "The Hook" is a meta-song, the spiritual sequel to "What's That Sound?" from the first album, that explains pop song construction. (And while I'm emphasizing the humor here, the best track is probably the mostly serious "Bonfire," which mixes a little country-rock with a little self-empowerment.) The album's most appropriate for kids ages 5 through 9; you can hear clips of the album wherever it's (electronically) sold. Practically Ridiculous doesn't veer much from the formula from the Jimmies' debut, but why should it when that one worked out so well? This one does, too, TV's (temporary?) loss is kindie's (continued) gain. Definitely recommended. Disclosure: I received a copy of the album for possible review.

Review Four-fer: Hullabaloo, Alphabeticians, Mister G, Monty Harper

As you would probably expect, I get many more disks than I could possibly have time to review (unless somebody decides that they want to nominate me for a MacArthur Fellowship). Given my time constraints, there are many reasons why I don't review an album, including it stinks or I can't figure out what to say about it. But there are a number of decent albums with a particular point of view that don't get reviewed in a timely manner just because life goes on. Here, then, are four albums, each with a different approach to the genre -- your family is likely to dig at least one of them.

San Diego-area musician Steve Denyes is a prolific songwriter (see here for a side project of mine he originated), cranking out a Hullabaloo album at least once a year. His latest record Road Trip tackles the theme of, well, car travel (natch), with thirteen tracks covering the experience (truckers' horns, traffic jams, the unfortunate demise of bugs on the windshield). The opening title track is a fun country-rocker, while the rest of songs take a slightly mellower, folkier, Johnny Cash-ier approach. (You can stream the album here.) The album is most appropriate for kids ages 2 through 7. In one sitting, the songs begin to run together, but there are a lot of songs here that would work well in a mixtape for your next trip. Recommended for: your next trip to Grandma's house, your afternoon errand-run.

Moving up the coast to Portland we find The Alphabeticians, a duo consisting of Eric Levine and Jeff Inlay, AKA Mr. E. and Mr. Hoo, which gives you a little sense of the goofiness that this duo trades in on their formal debut Rock. A little bit of the Pixies and R.E.M. (literally, in the case of the song "Eric Saw Peter Buck's Girlfriend and Then He Saw Peter Buck"), with a healthy dose of They Might Be Giants, "Weird Al" Yankovic, and Schoolhouse Rock mixed in. It could use a little more polish production-wise in spots, but there are some great songs in there (I recommend giving "Metaphor" and "Monkey on my Shirt" a spin at the album's streaming page.) The album's most appropriate for kids ages 3 through 8. Recommended for: the sassy younger kids on TV sitcoms, families who have at least one TMBG album (kids' or adult's) around the house, kids who want lots of alphabet practice.

Itty-Bitty Review: Tag, You're It! - The Not-Its!

I've always thought of punk music as being pretty anti-authoritarian, which is why I've been surprised to see a lot of kids punk bands be, well, not anti-authoritarian in their music. I suppose it's not that surprising -- how could you sell your music to the very authoritarians (the parents) you're singing against? But I wonder how many parents see the punk outfits and hear the crunchy guitars and think, "not for my family." Pity. The Seattle band The Not-Its! have always been on the "pop" end of the pop-punk spectrum. Rather than take a full-on punk approach, they sneak themselves into homes and audiences with snazzy color-coordinated tutus and ties and cartoon-friendly album covers. This summer they released their third album Tag, You're It! filled with songs about such dangerous topics as freeze tag ("Freeze Tag"), favorite subjects in school ("Mathematics"), and playing air guitar ("I Love Food"). I'm beginning to suspect that the Kindiependent bands have access to some eternal fountain of hooks that they parcel out to themselves, because this album's filled with catchy choruses and nifty melodic lines. (Lead singer Sarah Shannon's voice and the tight musical backup don't hurt in delivering the hooks.) If there's a downside to the album, it's that it plays it too safe at points -- saying "Gotta Keep on Tryin'" is a lot better than most songs that tackle the topic of perserverance, for example, isn't saying much. I tended to prefer the slightly off-kilter tracks: the parent-child argument of "Carry Me," for example, will ring a bell with many parents who've gone, well, anywhere, ever with their kids. (And "Puppy Dog" nicks the bassline from Blondie's "Heart of Glass" to call out a poorly trained canine.) The 31-minute album is most appropriate for kids ages 4 through 8. You can hear some of the tracks from the album at the band's music page. Tag, You're It! is a short, sharp blast of pop-punk goodness through and through. Safe enough for the kiddoes and the grandparents, regardless of whether they're into Joey Ramone or Vic Damone. Recommended.

Review: Sing Along! - Caspar Babypants

OK, you have folks like Raffi and Ella Jenkins and Justin Roberts -- people who, once they started recording music for kids, showed little interest to breaking away from that and recording for adults. But there's a long history of "adult" artists dipping their toes into the world of kids' music -- Carole King, Johnny Cash, Harry Nilsson, Tony Bennett, all the way up through They Might Be Giants, Lisa Loeb, and Barenaked Ladies and every artist who's ever recorded a song for kids' music compilation. Some, like TMBG (or Pete Seeger and Woody Guthrie long before them), spend a lot of time there, but usually the artists return to the world of checking for fake IDs and adult themes. Which is what makes watching Chris Ballew, longtime Presidents of the United States of America member, so interesting to me. In less than four years, he's released four albums for families as Caspar Babypants, including this week's new release, Sing Along!. Over the course of that time period, Ballew has thrown himself into the project with energy and has tapped a rich vein of creativity. While all four of his albums are very good, this new one is my favorite and one of the best albums of the year. It starts off with "Bad Blue Jay," with its "Yes, sirs" and "No, sirs" clearly inspired by the "Yes, ma'ams" and "No ma'ams" of the kids' classic "Mr. Rabbit." Next is "Wild Wild Time," which uses an old Beethoven melodic line. And on it goes, with Ballew pulling in influences from all over and creating new folk songs or in time-honored folk tradition, tweaking classics like "Ba Ba Black Sheep" or giving a hint of Beach Boys sound on "Long Long Dream." Also, I really dig Mike "Outtasite" Singleton's rap turn on the classic "Dem Bones." And while Ballew's always been willing to do very simple music for the very young, doing things like getting Frances England to duet with you on "Loud and Quiet" (or Rachel Loshak on the album-closer "Baby Cloud") makes those teachable songs listenable long after the concepts have been mastered. The album's targeted at kids ages 1 through 5, though hopefully I've made clear that older kids will dig it, too. You can hear samples here. I really, really like Sing Along! -- the Caspar Babypants disks have been favorites at our house for a long time, and I see no reason why this new album won't join its predecessors in heavy rotation. If he can keep it up, Chris Ballew might just create a body of work for preschoolers to rival Raffi's. Highly recommended.

Itty-Bitty Review: The Littlest Star - Meadows

The annoyance some parents feel upon hearing the classics of kids' music isn't due to the melodies themselves. The melodies, in fact, because they've survived for centuries in some cases, are some of the best ever. Parents' anger, rather, is a result of repetition and, sometimes, poor execution. The littlest things, like providing the barest minimum of interesting accompaniment and slightly different (but real) instrumention, can push the date of the inevitable "I can't take this anymore!" way out into the future. So it is with The Littlest Star, the debut album from Meadows. The band is a side project from musician and composer Keith Kenniff and his wife Hollie (who also perform together in their indie-rock band Mint Julep). Most of the tracks are renditions of standard wiggleworm-y classics like "Shoofly Don't Bother Me," "King Kong Kitchie Kitchie Ki-Me-O," and "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star." The arrangements are muted and tasteful, lots of acoustic guitar and piano. Hollie Kenniff gets the majority of vocals here; her relaxed voice induces calm and fits the simple tunes perfectly. Their banjo-assisted take on "You Are My Sunshine" is particularly lovely. The originals (e.g., "Flutter Like a Butterfly," "Three Kangaroos") are pleasant enough, but tend toward the cute end of the spectrum and I found myself preferring the standards to these. The 33-minute album is most appropriate for kids ages 0 through 5. You can hear samples at their homepage, but to listen to fill tracks, check out the Unseen Music YouTube channel. You'll probably find Meadows' sound as reminiscent of Elizabeth Mitchell's (minus the inspired cover song choices). I'd go with Mitchell's CDs over The Littlest Star, but the fact that I'm even bothering to compare the two speaks highly of the Meadows' ability to make childhood classics listenable for a long time. Recommended. Disclosure: I received a (digital) copy of the album for possible review.