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.

Review: No! (Deluxe Edition) - They Might Be Giants

There may be better kids music albums released since the turn of the (twenty-first) century, there have been better-selling ones as well, but a pretty strong case can be made for saying that No! by They Might Be Giants is the single most important and most influential kids music album of the past decade or so.

Yes, today's kindie superstars like Dan Zanes, Laurie Berkner, Justin Roberts, Ralph's World, and more had all released an album (or more) for families before TMBG's first album foray out of the world of pints of beer and into the world of half-pints of milk.  And other artists like Trout Fishing in America, Cathy Fink & Marcy Marxer (and many others preceding them) had been releasing albums for years.  But I think in terms of cultural impact (and, as a result, the impact on the genre itself), nothing matched that of the yellow-covered collection from Brooklyn's rockers.

The band is celebrating the tenth anniversary of the album's summer 2002 release with a deluxe edition of the album, adding on 7 bonus tracks, including one newly-recorded expanded version of a TMBG classic.  (More on that in a moment.)  It's easy to look back and say that the move into kids music was an obvious one for the band -- their songs often had a playful melodic sense and even though many of their songs had a darker undertone, some of their biggest hits ("Birdhouse in Your Soul," "Istanbul (Not Constantinople)") were completely kid-friendly.  But at the time, lots of people wondered exactly what the band was thinking, reaching for a kids' audience.

It was only after the album outsold their previous release (Mink Car, for adults, and released on September 11, 2001) that the band -- and the rest of the musical world -- realized that this was a genre that held much more financial and creative potential.  As the band's fans (like me) had grown up and become parents, the selections of kids music available to us were limited, and even more limited in terms of their sound.  With No!, the band thrust into some small part of the mainstream the idea that musical sounds for kids could be every bit as broad (and loud) as that for adults.

No! begat the band's deal with Disney, which yielded three excellent albums and lots of visibility for the band.  It also launched dozens of albums by musicians with names small and large.  No matter how long their creators had been working on them, I don't think TV shows like Yo Gabba Gabba! or Jack's Big Music Show or Imagination Movers get greenlit without the Brooklyn duo showing there was a market for this music and parental attitude.  I don't know if it is "cool" to make music for kids (and I don't really care personally), but it is no longer uncool and for an industry that is still often image-based, that is a not insignificant victory.

As for the album itself, it's so embedded in my brain (and the brains of my family), that trying to listen to the album again and listen critically after literally hundreds of spins is difficult.  My original review of the album, originally written nearly a decade ago, and one of the first posted to the website nearly seven years ago, while clunky in its narrative, still hits the key points: somewhat restricted instrumentation, skewed world viewpoint, and some excellent songs.  In retrospect (and after listening to maybe a couple thousand kids albums since then), one of its strongest aspects is the lack of any overt lesson songs.  It's not quite "no hugging, no learning," but the album's chief virtue is its own inquisitiveness and adventurousness, rather than any message within any specific song.

As for the bonus tracks, none are essential save one, a newly recorded version of "Alphabet of Nations."  This is a track, sharp listeners will note, that didn't make an appearance for another 3 years, on the album's follow-up, Here Come the ABCs.  No matter -- the Johns have taken their song, barely a minute long in its original form, and recorded the 2:30-version they play live.  More countries, even more fun.  The other six tracks are live versions of songs, some from No!, a couple from other albums.  They're good tracks, but none are essential -- feel free to download "Alphabet" and any of the other tracks whose samples move you.

That assumes, of course, that you already have the original.  If you don't, I'm not entirely sure how you've found your way to this site (or why you've read all this way).  If you don't, finish reading this paragraph and go get the thing.  Because in addition to being a culturally significant album, it's also a damn good one, too.  Inventive and witty, with no small amount of danceability.  Most days I'd argue it's not TMBG's best kids' album, but there are also days when I think that it is.  That's no small bar to leap.  I'm reading too much into this, but the fact that the next to last track on the original album is essentially kids' music's "A Day in the Life" makes No! the Sgt. Pepper's of kids' music.  Highly recommended.

Note: I received a copy of the album for possible review, as well as offered the opportunity to premiere tracks from the album.

Review: Books from The Secret Mountain

The Canadian company The Secret Mountain has published a lot of CD/book sets the past few years.  Once every three or four months, it seems, the company releases a hardcover book accompanied by a full CD of music.  At this point, they are nearly the equal of the Putumayo Kids label in terms of their ongoing release of music from around the world (at least from an American's perspective), even if the depth of their catalogue isn't yet near that of Putumayo.

Let's take a look at some recent releases to see if any might be right for your family.

Let's start with the least-recent production, The Fabulous Song.  The book (written by Don Gillmor and illustrated by Marie-Louise Gay) was actually first published in 1996.  It concerns one Frederic Pipkin, a young boy who does not take to instruments of any kind but eventually finds his own way to bring music into the world.  It is my favorite of the books here, but the music by Michelle Campagne and Davy Gallant is my least favorite of the CDs here.  The songs have a bit of pop-musical sound to them, but unlike most musicals, the songs only comment on the action without really ever moving the action along itself, and while I happen to like my share of musicals, there are no distinguishing songs here.  (More details here.)

Next up is Chicken Joe Forgets Something Important, a sequel from Trout Fishing in America to their previous Secret Mountain book, My Name Is Chicken Joe.  Frankly, I didn't give this book and CD enough attention when it first came out last fall, because when I gave it another spin recently, I was surprised (and pleased) at how well-done the songs are.  As a CD, I liked it more than what was in part a greatest hits album on the first book.  The songs have some connection to the story, but each stands alone without the other.  The story itself (the title pretty much says it all) is slight, but Stephane Jorisch returns to give the story his "happy Ralph Steadman" illustrations.  As a set (and definitely for the CD alone), I would definitely give this book the edge over Fabulous Song and I would recommend the CD by itself as well. (Details)

Moving on to more Putumayo-ish turf, Secret Mountain last fall released Songs from the Baobab.  The book itself was a massive success overseas when it was first released a decade ago, selling more than 100,000 copies.  Now the set featuring African lullabies and nursery rhymes compiled by Chantal Grosleziat comes to North America.  The book itself features evocative illustrations by Elodie Nouhen and a line or two of translated text from each song on a page or two.  (More detailed liner notes follow these fully illustrated pages.)  I am certainly no expert in the renditions, but they sounded lovely to my ears.  I would say the songs tend more toward the lullaby end of the spectrum.  (Details)

For those of you looking for a sprightlier musical trip somewhere outside of America, the latest set from the label, Songs in the Shade of the Flamboyant Tree, should fit the bill.  This collection of French Creole lullabies and nursery rhymes is more on the nursery rhyme end of the spectrum.  The songs were compiled again by Chantal Grosleziat, but illustrator Laurent Corvaisier uses a brighter, more vibrant palette (befitting the music).  I recommend both this and its African cousin -- your preference for calmer versus more active songs (and pictures) should guide your choice.  (Details)

There you go -- four sets, at least three worth further exploration.

Review: In Tents - Recess Monkey

It's time for the annual kids' music reviewer's dilemma:

How to review the new Recess Monkey album.

Some kids' music albums are just so plain bad that it is easy to mock them (if you go in for that sort of thing) or ignore them completely (my preferred approach).  Other albums have such a unique sound that describing the sound becomes the hook of the review.  And then there are the artists take their own sweet time releasing their music, which makes returning to their music almost like hearing a unique take in and of itself.

Which brings us to the Seattle trio.  They're good (scratch that first approach), have no particularly unique sound (forget the second), and are incredibly prolific (they've now recorded 8 albums in less than 8 years -- they've likely written and recorded an album in the time it's taken me to write this review -- so I guess that take on the album's out, too).  I tried dealing with this problem by writing an entire review in haiku form last year, but for the band's latest album In Tents, I'm forgoing the weird stuff in favor of a plain review.

As you might suspect from the album title, the album is a concept album about circuses, but as with their previous albums, most of which have revolved around a theme of some sort (superheroes, space, monsters), it's a loose concept.  Yes, the leadoff title track is about performing in a tent, but the following track "Popcorn" could easily be on a food-themed or movie-themed album.  Most of the songs, in other words, stand on their own (except for "The Dancin' Bear," the Beastie Boys homage which is so deliriously odd and funky that it stands, or dances, on its own).

The album starts out with a very modern sound - "Popcorn" has a modern sound, while "Sit and Spin" (Tilt-a-Whirl, natch) has a driving chorus.  But as the album progresses, it regresses sonically.  "Human Cannonbal" sounds just a bit like the Who in their more musical-minded moments.  And for much of the rest of the album ("Dancin' Bear" notwithstanding), the band returns to the Beatles sound which inspired their early work -- "Bouncy House" includes echoes of "Get Back" and "Edwina Mae" sounds like A Hard Day's Night-era music, for example, and other songs like "House of Cards" have the 1920s vaudeville sound that runs through a lot of the Fab Four's work with George Martin.

In fact, as I listened to the album, I was reminded in more ways than one of the Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.  Some of the reason are minor (the Beatles' circus costumes on the album cover suggesting this album's theme) and some larger (the wistful song "Crystal Ball" and album closer "Show on the Road" striking echoes of that album -- "Crystal Ball" even includes a "When I'm Sixty-Four" shoutout).

Dean Jones' production here is clean -- it sounds a lot like any other Recess Monkey album, sonically, albeit with a little more trombone.  (I loved, though, the production choice in "I Could See (Magically)" to fuzz up the sound at the begin and to clear it all up once the narrator gets glasses.)  And he also lets the band's natural humor show through (Mayor Monkey! Drew Holloway's manic over-singing in "Sit and Spin").

As with most Recess Monkey albums, this album is most appropriate for kids ages 4 through 8.  You can listen to a few of the tracks at the band's homepage.  As always, the physical packaging for the album, this time featuring a backstory for the circus theme, is excellent.

There's not a lot of backstory here -- Recess Monkey makes music for kids, with joy and without pretense.  There are lots of other bands who do that, too, but few if any who do it as well.  As bands go, I'm not sure they're the Beatles of kids music -- who would want to saddle anyone with those expectations -- but when you look at the consistently high level of musical quality the band's given us over the past few years, perhaps it's not such a totally ridiculous claim.  It's a tough call, but I think In Tents is my favorite Recess Monkey album yet.  Highly recommended.

Note: I was provided a copy of the album for possible review.  Also, the band was invaluable in helping to create Hand Aid's "Felt Around the World."  But I'm a looooongtime fan.

Review: Ultramagnetic Universal Love Revolution - Mista Cookie Jar & the Chocolate Chips

Sometimes all you want is a lazy afternoon reading with your kid or playing Legos with them while rain gently falls outside.

This is not the album for those times.

Ultramagnetic Universal Love Revolution, the second album from Los Angeles' Mista Cookie Jar (and his backing band, the Chocolate Chips), is bright and shiny -- as chaotic a melange of sights, sounds, and smells as the boardwalk pier featured on the album's cover photo -- and intended to make you dance.

Just listen to the first track, "Inner Child Rock," and you'll have a pretty good idea whether the album is for you.  Mista Cookie Jar (AKA C.J. Pizarro) sings out his rapid fire lyrics while his daughter, 9-year-old Ava Flava, and Miss Mikyla chime in with background lyrics (their oft-repeated "We HEART you" is lodged in my brain for the next year at least), offset by the occasional "Let's get, let's get, let's get wild" bridge.  I find it nearly irresistible, but I admit that others might find it over the top.

There are some slightly less wild tracks -- in the liner notes for "Lover Not a Fighter," Pizarro said he "aimed to pilfer some of that Jackson 5 bubble gum-soul-funk-magic" and it's a worthy re-appropriation of the sound.  "Happy Place" is a sun-drenched groove that should be played loudly as the neighborhood kids jump around in the front yard slip-n-slide.  (If you or your kid want to double-down on the sonic craziness of "Inner Child Rock," I'd suggest tracks like "Lucas!" or "Best Day Ever EVER.") 

Lyrically... well, I think a sample from "Crystal Cave" illustrates where the lyrics sometimes go: "Inside ur heart there is a crystal cave / where the witches and the wizards invent their games. / They sew a string of sing-alongs / and tie them to the wings of swans / connectin' hearts to stars to cookie jars /in daisy-chain-trains!"  We are a long way away from songs about how to tie your shoe here, but it really fits in with the sound.

The album is most appropriate for kids ages 5 through 9.  You can listen to extended samples from the 43-minute album here.

As is the case with many good albums, Ultramagnetic Universal Love Revolution won't please everyone, and in fact some folks might downright dislike it.  But I think there are more than a handful of families who are going to absolutely adore the beats and rhymes and very palpable sense of love that pervades these dance tunes.  Me, I'm more in that second camp (and hope that everybody at least checks it out).  Recommended.