Review: Blue Clouds - Elizabeth Mitchell and You Are My Flower

How to sum up the latest album from Elizabeth Mitchell and You Are My Flower, the dream-soaked Blue Clouds?

I suppose one could start with that adjective, "dream-soaked."  From the song lyrics (the frog and mouse courtship and wedding of "Froggie Went A-Courtin'" or the dogs running around in "Yuki (Snow)") to the album art from renowned author and artist Remy Charlip to the arrangements featuring Mitchell's direct and gentle voice and strings and flute, among others, the entire album seems suffused with sleepy imagery and feelings.

Or perhaps it's with a bullet-point recounting of the high points on the album:

• The total feeling of empathy generated by her cover of Bill Withers' "I Wish You Well."
• The title track (a lullaby written by Mitchell's husband Daniel Littleton), which wraps up the album and is an instant modern classic
• Her version of "Everyone," which recasts Van Morrison's joy-filled song into something akin to a blessing.

I could always compare and contrast with Mitchell's previous work.  It's definitely more varied in scope than Little Seed, her fine Woody Guthrie tribute album from this summer.  For the listeners to Sunny Day who wished that Mitchell front-and-center more often in that album, instead of ceding lead vocals to daughter Storey on some tracks (I was perfectly fine with the shift as I saw what Mitchell was aiming at in being part of the Folkways tradition), they will find the mix more like You Are My Little Bird -- the kids are integrated nicely on the tracks, but it's Mitchell show.

Or I could be very technical about the whole thing: 38 minutes in length, best for ages 3 through 9, more album details here or stream some songs here.  Don't forget the physical packaging, typically Smithsonian-awesome, featuring Charlip's artwork, an introductory essay from author and artist Brian Selznick, and nice liner notes from Mitchell herself.

But instead the word I keep drifting back to is that of family.  Mitchell's immediate family -- her, husband Daniel, daughter Storey -- who have always been at the heart of this whole enterprise and her approach to making a living as a musician in this field.  Her extended family -- Brian Selznick not only writes a generous introduction, but it's dedicated to his friend Remy Charlip and the mother of his goddaughter Storey; her sister-in-law Anna Padgett writes a couple songs on the album.  Her super-extended Folkways family -- Smithsonian heroes Ruth Crawford Seeger and Ella Jenkins inspire tunes.  And my own family, who have been listening to Mitchell's music for more than a decade and have spent many (hundreds of) hours with her music.  Mitchell pulls us all in and, for a moment, makes us feel connected before sending us back into the world to be as generous with others as she has been with us.  Highly recommended.

Review: Binary - The Board of Education

Geek.

Nerd.

Dork.

Words that once carried a stigma are now bandied about with pride by many.  What are the increasingly subdivided niches of fans and supporters of pop culture but collections of nerds celebrating their own weirdnesses? (Note: not a slam.  After all, I am a kids music aficianado.  I know from celebrating tastes not fully embraced by the mainstream.)

Enter Seattle's The Board of Education.  If Recess Monkey and Caspar Babypants are the hardest-working artists in kindie music, cranking out albums in about the length of time it takes me to write this review, then their Kindiependent compatriots The Board of Education in are there to even out the average.  Their just-released album, Binary, follows their debut album by 4.5 years.

Perhaps it takes the band so long because chief songwriter Kevin Emerson and his bandmates are each getting advanced degrees on the topics covered in their songs -- the breakup of the Soviet Union ("Welcome Back!/Geography Quiz!"), Kevlar inventor Stephanie Kwolek ("Know Your Inventors, Part II"), or variable specific impulse magneto-pulsar rockets ("VASIMR (To Mars!)," natch). (No advanced degree is needed to enjoy the Star Wars-themed rant/plea "Why Is Dad So Mad?".)  All of which would be deadly dull except you can tell that the Board of Education really likes the topics at hand, and they know their way around a pop hook.

Hidden behind that brainy veneer, however, is also an appreciation for how humans make their way through the world.  Sometimes it's the chief topic of a song, such as on the delicate "Three," about a young elementary schooler navigating changes in friendship.  Elsewhere, such as on "Binary" or the totally and utterly awesome "I'm Not Here Right Now," the band merges those human understandings with geekier topics.  For an album filled with a bunch of space-related themes, it's remarkably down-to-earth.

The album will be most appropriate for kids ages 5 through 11.  You can hear a number of tracks from the album at the band's Bandcamp page.

So let's celebrate the obsessives, the adults (and kids) burning with curiosity about the world around them, be it light-years away, or at the school cafeteria -- The Board of Education gets you.  And you, obsessive (or parent of an obsessive), should you choose to discover the band, you might just find another obsession.  Highly recommended.

Review: Can You Canoe? - The Okee Dokee Brothers

I know, I already reviewed the album for NPR.  But it's always good to get a few more words in.

***

It could have been -- it should have been -- a gimmick.  The Okee Dokee Brothers, the Minneapolis duo of Joe Mailander and Justin Lansing, heading down the Mississippi River in a canoe for a month, just the two of them, with the goal of producing an album's worth of river/exploration songs by journey's end.

But the resulting album, Can You Canoe?, exceeds all expectations in its breadth and scope, its heart and humor.  Their take on the traditional "Haul Away Joe," featuring The Band's Garth Hudson, tempts me to pull out every synonym for "joyful" in my thesaurus -- boisterous, rousing, or, perhaps most appropriately given the nautical theme of the album, buoyant.

In its boisterousness, "Haul Away Joe" is probably more the exception than the rule on the album, with songs tending more toward the contemplative, such as "Thousand Star Hotel," or "Small and Simple," featuring Elizabeth Mitchell.  The opening title track is the gentle invitation to exploration that serves as the throughline of the album.  What happens on the river doesn't stay on the river -- it sticks with you for a long time.  And it's not so much the big things as it is the small, such as the animals and bugs (see "The Bullfrog Opera" and "Rosita").  And while there's certainly a time and place for solitude in nature, one often needs companions to make that exploration work, a theme emphasized by "Haul Away Joe" and "Along for the Ride," which features Rachel Loshak.  Producer Dean Jones does a nice job directing traffic and filling out the Brothers' Americana sound.

Justin and Joe didn't actually canoe down the river by themselves -- they had a couple other folks along helping out and filming a DVD with interviews and music videos packaged with the CD.  There's nothing essential about the DVD -- if for whatever reason you prefer the digital mp3s, you and your family can probably get along with out it -- but it's certainly a step above most bonus DVDs.  (Most of the footage is now available on the band's YouTube channel.)

The album is most appropriate for kids ages 4 through 9, but the album approaches Dan Zanes and Elizabeth Mitchell territory in terms of its being truly suitable for all ages.  Can You Canoe? is wide-eyed in the best sense, and easily one of the best kids albums of the year.  Highly recommended.

Review: Adventures of Chicken Weebus (Volume 1)

For a variety of reasons, it takes me longer to get to story reviews.  I apologize, therefore, that I didn't write this review three months ago.  My bad.

So let me introduce to you Chicken Weebus, a plucky little chicken -- more like a chick, really -- whose adventures in The Town There are the funniest audio plays you and your family will hear all year.  Chicken Weebus is the brainchild of husband-and-wife producers Karl Hirsch and Lauren Proctor.  Adventures of Chicken Weebus (Volume 1) collects the first four stories they wrote and recorded with a fine cast of talented voice actors, and it's a great way to amuse your kids (and maybe you) for more than an hour.

Trying to explain Chicken Weebus too much would be to diminish the slightly absurd joy and probably make it sound dorkier than it really is.  Think of Chicken Weebus as akin to a slightly-less-worldly Kermit the Frog -- the straight man (albeit with a dry sense of humor) amidst a large cast of characters, many of whom are, like, Gonzo or Animal, crazy in their own little ways.  It's that interplay between the nasally Weebus and the rest of the town (like Officer Longneck, the slow-talking cop, or the self-important narrator) that makes these plays so much fun.  Each story does have a lesson for the listeners to learn, but it's doused with sufficient cheese sauce that the broccoli is easily digested.  And the characters break the fourth wall and have just a tiny bit of knowing attitude just enough that the age range for these stories goes up higher than you might think.  My favorite of the stories is "City Chicken, Country Chicken," but there isn't a weak link.

The stories are most appropriate for kids ages 4 through 10.  You can preview the four main stories on the CD -- and download the entire first story for free -- here.  You can download the stories; the CD also includes interstitials not available for download -- they're funny, though not essential.

Adventures of Chicken Weebus (Volume 1) is a smartly-conceived and well-produced set of audio stories.  Funny, smart, and knowing without being smart-alecky, I can see these stories becoming a well-loved part of many families' car trips and lazy afternoons.  Bring on Volume 2!  Highly recommended.

Review: Mr. Diddie Wah Diddie - Randy Kaplan

I will admit that when I first heard about Mr. Diddie Wah Diddie, the latest album from Los Angeles-based (usually) Randy Kaplan, I was somewhat skeptical.  There was so much that could have gone wrong with this project - a troubadour recasting famous blues songs into kid-friendly complaints. ("Randy-ized," it was called.) And with a centuries old blues man offering sandpapery-voiced commentary? Oh, so much could have gone wrong.

But I was willing to give it a shot because Kaplan is one of kids music's top storytellers with significant depth in musical sources of inspiration, and I figured that if anyone could make these re-done stories worth listening to, it would be he.

Luckily, I was proven correct.

OK, I can't say that I found the overarching narrative conceit -- the century-plus-year-old bluesman "Lightnin' Bodkins" introduces many of the songs and tries to find Kaplan his own "blues name" -- very interesting.  In fact, when I listened to the album, I pretty much always skipped forward to the next track.  Parents in control of the car's CD player or the iPod may do the same.

But that's only because the songs in between those interstitials are so much more interesting.  Yes, the songs are "Randy-ized," which ironically means they've tamed down, not made more inappropriate.  So "Timeout Blues," which turns the classic chorus "In the Jailhouse Now" into "In the Timeout Now," is all about a rabble-rousing kid.  Kaplan is one of the top 2 or 3 kids music storytellers working today, and like other talented storytellers, he draws from a deep well of pint-sized frustration and pique.  And what better channel for expressing frustration and pique than the blues, such as in "Ice Cream Man Rag," which bemoans an ice cream truck that never stops at the narrator's house.  There are other more straight-ahead songs whose double-entendres (if Kaplan cracked a knowing smile while encouraging kids to shake their things -- eggshakers -- in "Shake Your Thing," I couldn't hear it).  And near the end of the album, more pensive songs like "Move to Kansas City" don't really sound jokey or silly at all, with songs like "Way Down in Arkansas" and "So Different Blues" remarkably tender and sweet.

Kids ages 3 through 8 will most appreciate the album, which is available at all the usual suspects (and on Spotify as well).  I'd also highlight the understated musical accompaniment, most notably the gentle finger-picking guitar work of Kaplan (assisted by his producer Mike West).

Yes, Mr. Diddie Wah Diddie has its origins in a somewhat jokey concept, but the final result transcends that limitation.  Ignore Lightnin' Bodkins, ignore the idea that your kids might get a basic education in the forefathers of the blues (unlikely), and just enjoy with your kids a solid collection of bluesy stories from one of the best storytellers around.  Definitely recommended.

Disclosure: I was given a copy of the album for possible review.

Review: Spicy Kid - Lunch Money

One of the weird upshots of the rewiring of the relationship between musicians and cultural curators is that they're often friends.  Sure, they could have always been friends in the real-world sense of things, but with the advent of Facebook, the number of "friends" available has increased exponentially.  The cultural curator breed of "critic" is dying rapidly while "blogger" (for lack of a better term) has displaced the critic at the top of the music food tree, and while I'm not sure that critics were ever more "objective" than bloggers, my perception is that bloggers are more advocates for music they favor.  This unsurprisingly leads to more friendship-based exchanges online.  And, for someone raised in the world of the "critic" and who got into this music-writing business a decade ago in part because there seemed to be few critical distinctions when it came to kids music, it definitely feels different.

Which brings us to Spicy Kid, the fourth album from South Carolina band Lunch Money.  The band is led by singer and guitarist Molly Ledford, who writes indie-rock melodies and arrangements circia 1992 in a voice that would be called wry if she didn't find it so hard to hide her general amusement and wonder.  Ledford and the band are billing this as their album about parenthood, and that's what prompted my discursion above.

You see, Molly is a "friend" of mine on Facebook (along with 300 other kids'-music-related people).  If you're not a friend of her, you might hear a song like "S.P.E.L.L.," about the well-known parental tactic to hide information and think she's giving her kids too much credit ("When you s-p-e-l-l in front of me / You're calling attention to the words / You're putting me on alert / It's either bad news or dessert").  But Ledford has posted too many status updates indicating that her kids are sharp cookies (and spicy kids) that unless she's the James Frey of autobiographical kindie rock, these are very much inspired by real life.  And that true life dimension lends the songs additional resonance above and beyond the plain text of the lyrics.

What I find remarkable about the album is that she hits the topics of parenthood in a way that honors both the parents' and kids' perspectives.  The album's title track celebrates spicy kids without denying the feeling of frustration such kids can produce in their parents.  "Awake" is nominally about a child sneaking down the hallway to see if her mom is awake, but it also works from the perspective of a parent sneaking down the hallway to see if his son's awake.  And while there are songs that are as strong expressions of a parent's love for a child as you'll hear this year (see: "Translator," which is pitch-perfect), it's the empathy of both perspectives that helps it avoid mawkishness.  It's like the album is from everybody's favorite Aunt Molly.  Which isn't to diminish the role of her band (which now officially number four in total as the former trio has added Russell Ramirez on trombone), who give Molly's words room to breathe, except when they need to rock out.  Just that it's Aunt Molly's house.

The album will be most appropriate for kids ages 3 through 7.  You can hear the album on the band's music page.  Also, as usual, I love the design and layout of the band's album packaging, courtesy of Ledford's husband and bandmate, Jay Barry.

If Spicy Kid works in a slightly minor key, less a celebration of parenthood than a diary, that doesn't mean it's less joyful than any of its predecessors, and fans (or fans-to-be) of those predecessors should be every bit as enamored of this new album.  As for me, I'll hope that Ledford one day writes the book (non-fiction or otherwise) that chronicles life as a parent (or a kid) that's so obviously somewhere inside her waiting to be written.  Consider it advice from a friend, Molly.  Highly recommended.

Note: I received a copy of this album for possible review.