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.

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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: 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: 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.

Video: "There's a Band in My Head" - Dog on Fleas

Invisible Friends album coverDean Jones is a busy man -- producing albums for folks like Recess Monkey and Story Laurie while putting the finishing touches on a BRAND NEW DOG ON FLEAS ALBUM!  (Yes, I'm shouting, because that's great news, people.)

On top of all that, there's a new video to go along with a track from the new album, Invisible Friends, out in June (or April 24 via teh Internets).  The video for the song "There's a Band in My Head" is homemade, lo-fi, weird -- a little delirious, even -- and in its collage is greater than the sum of its parts.  Sorta like the song -- and band -- itself.

Dog on Fleas - "There's a Band in My Head" [YouTube]