Review: Invisible Friends - Dog on Fleas

When interviewed about their music, it is not uncommon for kids musicians to say that they're not recording for kids.  It's a statement that for many artists puzzles me, because while I totally get what they're saying -- good stories and songs should resonate with a diverse audience -- it seems to deny what is obvious: songs about playgrounds or going to school or getting a dog are written with kids in mind.  They are kids' songs, no matter how good they are or how appealing to adults they may be.

New York's Dog on Fleas are one of the few artists making kids music whose music, stripped of context such as album art or a review on a website such as this, could legitimately be not described as "kids music."  Their brand-new album Invisible Friends taps into a feeling of childlike wonder and exuberance without ever sounding like somebody was tapping into memories of (anyone's) childhood.

What the songs do sound like, at times, are half-remembered childhood memories themselves.  The lovely and gentle "Fortunate Mistake" tells the story of a mouse (or someone the size of a mouse) whose name is indeed "Fortunate Mistake" while echoing the textures of Paul Simon's Graceland album.  (The lyrics "I bring good luck wherever I go / I bring good luck to you" sound to me like a blessing.)  On the other, more-minimal hand, the sung lyrics for the song "Party" are as follows: "I like to party, party, party / I like to party, party, party / Party, party, party, party, party, party, party!"  There's a little variation in that perhaps, but for the most part it's an excuse for Dog on Fleas mastermind Dean Jones to get his Memphis horns on.

Notwithstanding the occasional dance tracks, it's mostly a laid-back series of songs, with tracks like "Tell Me What You Love" or the group sing-along "Peapod" being the sonic equivalent of laying on your back in the shade of tree in a grassy field watching clouds go by.  Longtime fans of the band will may hear of lot of the last Dog on Fleas album, Beautiful World, on this new disk, but with some of the more electronic elements dialed back -- this is a much more organic album.  I liked Beautiful World, but I like this much more.

Given how much I've talked about the 42-minute album's all-ages sound, the idea of an ideal age range is sort of silly, but it's probably more appealing to kids ages 3 and up.  You can listen to the whole album here. 

Don't misunderstand me -- there's a lot of excellent kids music out there that is written with kids in mind, and I think that's great.  (Really, I think people should embrace that idea.)  But it's nice to have bands like Dog on Fleas blurring the distinctions between what is kids music and what isn't.  Like a preschool collage, Invisible Friends mixes stuff together that adults have long stopped mixing together but in spite of that (or possibly because of it) produces art.  Highly recommended.

Review: A Potluck - Lucky Diaz and the Family Jam Band

Bright and sugary like a treat from a Parisian patisserie, here is A Potluck, the third (and second full-length) recording from Los Angeles-based Lucky Diaz and the Family Jam Band.

Diaz' songwriting strength has always been his knack for a catchy melody, the good pop hook reeling the listeners in.  The opening songs -- the Postal Service-aping "Lines and Dots," "On My Bike," and what sounds like a vocoder-assisted "Lemonade Stand" -- seem like they should be packaged with a diabetic warnings if listened too often on repeat, so sweet are the combination of the hooks, handclaps, and kindergarten-focused lyrics.  The rest of the pop-rock tracks from Diaz and his bandmate-now-wife Alisha Gaddis offer a little more sonic diversity ("Squirrelly the Squirrel," ska; "Monkey Jones," brass band; "Tres Ratones," a little Tex-Mex).

I wish some of the songs would be pared down (The run times for "Lil' Red Rooster" and "Lemonade Stand" of about three minutes could have been cut in half, creating quick, tart lemonade espressos of a song, for example).  And Diaz' lyrics have never been too multi-layered -- here they are as shiny as the music and with the exception of "Invisible Friend" don't really address kids' interior lives.  Which is fine, but if that's what you're looking for, you should move on.  Of course, if you or your kids want to dance or jump around the room -- something I'm all in favor of -- you are bound to find something here. (The songs on the 29-minute album are most appropriate for kids ages 3 through 7.)

As I hope I've made clear, A Potluck won't change the world.  But it's a neat collection of some very nifty songs that should end up in your kids' rooms (or iPods) and Diaz's best family album to date.  Definitely recommended.

Review: My Neighborhood - Johnny Bregar

In every reviewer's career, there are the artists you find, follow devotedly, and wonder why the rest of the world isn't quite as enamored as you.

Exhibit A, for me, I think, is Seattle's Johnny Bregar.  I thought his first three albums Stomp Yer Feet!, Hootenanny, and Dragonfly were on par with any recent three-album set from just about any artist you'd care to name.  While they were received positively, with radio airplay and cuts on a couple of Putumayo Kids albums, he hadn't received the attention that his peers (Justin Roberts, TMBG, Elizabeth Mitchell, a few others) had.

And then, 3 1/2 years of silence.  Much of that silence is because Bregar has been struggling to find his singing voice (literally).  And while that condition isn't fully resolved, Bregar has finally released his fourth album for kids, My Neighborhood.  For fans of the first three albums, it is good to hear Bregar's voice once more.

While I don't think Bregar's included too many more guest artists than on Dragonfly, he brought enough guests to his Bainbridge Island studio to make his rootsy Americana with a hint of bluegrass seem like a small party.  There's a mellow, soulful vibe to the album's best tracks, even a bit of wistfulness at points.  The title track recounts a stroll through the narrator's neighborhood, evocative of Mr. Rogers if he'd had a chance to listen to some Jack Johnson.  The next track "Weekend" evokes the best of the Counting Crows sonically in service of praising the fun of Saturdays and Sundays.

While Bregar still invites some younger kids to sing along (as on the uber-confident rocker "Yes I Can"), he's mostly moved on from the preschool songs he originally made his name on.  (I will admit to being tickled pink that Bregar, who I once called "the next Raffi," includes a simple, sing-along version of the Raffi classic, "You'll Sing a Song".)  Bregar's playing (and that of his guests) is unfussy, but there are some nifty instrumental turns.  I will admit to skipping forward past "Pancho," but the vast majority of the songs stand up to repeated spins.

The songs here are most appropriate for kids ages 4 through 9.  You can listen to selected tracks by going here and clicking on the "Listen Now" button.

I've laid it out as best I can without coming over to your house or minivan and commandeering the CD player or iPod and making you and your kids listen.  My Neighborhood is what we expect good kids music to be these days -- musically rich, thematically diverse, and (for older kids, anyway) lyrically sophisticated.  Please please please try it.  Highly recommended.

Review: WeBop: A Family Jazz Party! - Jazz at Lincoln Center (feat. Matt Wilson)

There was a point 4 or 5 years ago when I thought jazz would be the area of the next great kids music explosion. This most American of musical art forms had not been sufficiently explored by musicians focusing on families, and it seemed ripe for artists to fill the space.  And, yes, there were a number of good, even great, jazz albums for families.

And then, silence.

OK, that's an exaggeration.  Coal Train Railroad and Oran Etkin have both released albums that families with any jazz tendencies (and even those who don't) should check out.  But I expected more musicians to try their hand at this.  After all, jazz is -- or can be -- the most playful of musical forms, and what audience is -- or can be -- more playful than a bunch of under-10s?

Well, with the addition of the folks from WeBop, Jazz at Lincoln Center's (JALC's) early-childhood jazz education program, I'm hopeful that perhaps we're on the cusp of another kinder-jazz renaissance.  Their first album for families, WeBop: A Family Jazz Party!, is my favorite jazz-for-kids album since at least Putumayo's Jazz Playground disk from a couple years ago, and definitely my favorite non-compilation since the great Medeski, Martin & Wood album Let's Go Everywhere.

Some of my enthusiasm for this particular disk is rooted in my own personal jazz tastes, which are heavily weighted toward the classic jazz of pre-Bitches Brew Miles Davis, John Coltrane, and Dizzy Gillespie.  (This isn't particularly surprising, I suppose, given the interests of JALC's Artistic Director Wynton Marsalis.)  And one of this album's greatest strengths is its celebration of that heritage.  Unlike a lot of the "introducing jazz to the kids" disks, which take traditional kids' standards (e.g., "Old MacDonald" or "Itsy Bitsy Spider") and put them in a jazz arrangement, many songs on this album take jazz standards and add (or tweak) a few kid-friendly lyrics.  Not every standard is modified -- the Duke Ellington classic "It Don't Mean a Thing (If It Ain't Got That Swing)" speaks just fine to kids as-is -- but some of the adaptations are inspired (I particularly loved the re-purposing of Coltrane's "Syeeda's Song Flute" into "Syeeda's ABC," an alphabet song, natch).  And kudos for figuring out how to work free jazz pioneer Ornette Coleman into a kids' track ("Free Jazz Adventure").

Besides the traditionals and standards, there are also a handful of originals.  These songs tend to be a little more pedagogical in nature.  "Shakey Shake Shake," for example, encourages shaking of rhythm instruments and jumping around.  "Playin' Together," a song about, well, playing jazz (playing together, then taking solos) is buoyed by Adam Platt's nimble toy piano playing -- it's probably the first song featuring that instrument that I truly dig.  I don't think they're the equal of the standards, but that's kind of an unfair comparison.  As you'd expect considering the Lincoln Center parentage, the playing is top-notch, from drummer Matt Wilson, the album's music director, on down.  And the participation of kids on some of the tracks, such as on "What Kind of Food Do You Like To Eat?," their take on Dizzy Gillespie's "Salt Peanuts," just adds the right amount of childishness.

The 50-minute album is nominally targeted at kids ages 2 through 7, but its playfulness will appeal to jazz fans of all ages.  Listen to samples from the album and download a copy of their take on "When the Saints Go Marching In" at the album's page (you can also download an activity booklet).

I like WeBop: A Family Jazz Party a whole bunch.  It's joyful, playful, and full of life.  Even if you're not particularly into jazz -- maybe especially if you're not particularly into jazz -- it's an album your family should check out.  Let's hope this encourages some other jazz musicians to follow suit.  Highly recommended.

Itty-Bitty Review: Creepy Crawly Love - Duke Otherwise

It's been awhile since I've heard a good off-kilter kids music album, an album with a distinct perspective on song subjects and a musical approach to match.

If your family collection is similarly deficient, allow me to suggest Duke Otherwise, AKA Noah Riemer, whose debut album Creepy Crawly Love comes out of the Upper Midwest's House of Mercy Recordings to take up space on your family's CD shelf (or computer hard drive) next to John and Mark's Children's Record, The Great Adventures of Mr. David, or perhaps Zak Morgan (thanked in the album's liner notes).

Take "I Used to Think," a jazz-with-a-bit-of-klezmer tune with a hyperactive narrator sounding a bit like Sesame Street's Count declaiming that features the lyrics "I used to think the world was flat, not round / I used to think I weighed a thousand pounds / Can you believe I used to think that e=mcHammer?"  Or Tin-Pan-Alley-via-the-midway "Git Yer Fiddle Out," featuring (among other things) a dog toy, train whistle, trombone, and strummed fiddle, and lyrics like "Get your fiddle out and strum it / Get your trombone out and drum it / Get your xylophone and drive it / C'mon! Drive, drive, drive!" that only get odder from there.  Riemer obviously delights in wordplay, using nifty, brainy lyrics to sing about short-tailed dogs ("Dog Without a Tail"), the Spanish language interrupted by other languages ("How Do You Say 'No' in Español?"), and other eccentrics, all in a musical packaging that's like a slightly peppier Tom Waits.

While a few of the songs will amuse preschoolers, it's really kids ages 6 through 10 who will most appreciate the album.  You can hear clips of many tracks at the Duke Otherwise homepage, or stream a few full-length songs here. I would be surprised if Creepy Crawly Love became a massively popular hit -- it's a bit too off-center for that.  But these types of albums often become adored in some households, and if what you hear here tickles your fancy, then I think your household will give this album a happy home.  Definitely recommended.

A Tasty Review: Four Kids Music Albums for Locavores

Delicious album coverYou don't need to have been locked up in a fast-food restaurant's storage closet for the past few years to know that eating food produced locally has become a Big Thing. Playing around in the dirt and growing fruits and vegetables with bright colors? No wonder that last year's Maria Sangiolo and Friends' album Planting Seeds was just the tip of the iceberg (not the lettuce) when it comes to the mico-genre of "Farmers Market Kindie." I'm not a huge fan of "lesson" music, but it's possible to strike a good balance between entertainment and education. Here are four recommended kids music albums whose musical benefits are as good as the lessons inside. (Note: several food metaphors follow. Tread cautiously.)

The first (and most diverse sonically) album is from Bay Area trio Orange Sherbet, who will release their first album in five years, Delicious, on May 15. The collection of mostly original tunes was inspired by band member Tamsen Fynn's experiences with the Local Foods Wheel, a tool for discovering local, seasonal food in the San Francisco Bay Area. The result of the album Fynn's made with bandmates Jill and Steve Pierce is a sound that's part playground chant, part lounge-jazz, and and a few other genres thrown in, too. (Yes, that is a Santana reference in the Latin guitar rock of "Rice & Beans.) And while sometimes albums that feature lots of different musical genres sound awkward in totality, the result here is much, much closer to the successful, eclectic mix of a Dan Zanes or Dog on Fleas album.  The album's most appropriate for kids ages 5 through 9; you can listen to 3 of the tracks here. (Sound intriguing? Check out the band's final Kickstarter campaign.) With Delicious it's likely you'll want seconds.

Groovin' in the Garden album coverNext on the grocery list is Groovin' in the Garden, from New York musician and storyteller Laurie McIntosh, aka Story Laurie. It's focuses much more on playing in the garden. So there are a fair number of traditional or well-known songs ("Shoofly Pie", "Five Little Monkeys", "Hokey Pokey") mixed into the originals from McIntosh. Her partner in crime for the album is New York state producer and musician Dean Jones from the aforementioned Dog on Fleas, who plays nineteen instruments, sings, and probably catered the recording sessions for all I know. It's a little more narrowly folk-focused than Delicious (and geared toward kids slightly younger, 3 through 7), but still features variety in its menu selections.

Grow album coverAndrew Queen represents Canada in this quartet of food-based albums with his latest album Grow. While the fine liner notes feature recipes and some songs -- "Macaroni and Cheese," the traditional "Fried Ham" -- fit very clearly into the food theme, others such as "The Witch's Brew" and "Worms" (no, it's not a paean to composting), seem to, er, strain the theme.  It shares the folk tradition with the other albums here, and musically, the use of instruments like fiddle, banjo, and a well-deployed tuba is reminiscent here.  (There's also a very communal sound to the vocals.)  Queen is more interested in telling stories in song than even Laurie, so if you're looking for something in that vein for kids ages 5 through 9 (and don't need a whole album of songs praising CSAs), this will fit the bill nicely.

Green & Growing album coverAnd for dessert, we have Shannon Wurst's Green & Growing. I've already praised the album packaging, but the songs inside are nice, too.  They are definitely on the preachier side of the food issue (with detours into energy-saving and recycling) -- so if you don't lessons mixed with your music, you're probably better off with the other albums (particularly the first two).  The object lessons aren't always dry, though -- the brief "Label Able Mable" is a tongue-twisting finger-picking ode while "Criss Cross Applesauce" is a soulful activity song.  (Plus, you have a dinosaur on "Recyclasaurus Rex Visit").  The album's best for kids ages 4 through 8, and you can listen to a few tracks here.  For a country-folk take on ecologically sound eating and living, Green & Growing will hit the sweet spot.