Interview: Molly Ledford and Billy Kelly

I like to think that Molly Ledford (of Lunch Money) and Billy Kelly (of Billy Kelly) met in the comments section of my NPR piece on Billy Kelly's "People Really Like Milk," but the truth is, they met some time before.

The duo's friendship has produced a wonderful new album, Trees, which will be released next month, on March 20, the first day of spring.  They chatted with me last week to talk about their friendship, recording the album, and a little bit, just a little bit, about trees themselves.

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Zooglobble: Normally I'd start off an interview with the question, "What are your first musical memories?," but instead, let me ask, "What are your first arboreal memories?"

Billy Kelly (BK): We had a mimosa tree in front of my house growing up.  I'd climb my tree, and I remember my grandma sitting in a chair with a white afghan in her lap, saying that I climbed "he's like a little monkey."  And then my dad cut it down -- he said mimosa trees were dirty, so he cut it down.  Not while I was in it.

Molly Ledford (ML): That's the origin story of why Billy is now very flip.

BK: "They cut down his first tree…"

ML: We had a magnolia tree.  I was never a good climber -- I could climb on top a fence nearby, and then get onto a branch, and that was as far as I could climb.  So in "Angel Oak," I could climb that tree, but it's illegal [to do so].  The song "By the Roots" my brother and I would roll Matchbox sportscars around with all these exposed roots.

BK: So that's what that song's about!  I pictured you crashing an actual Lamborghini into the tree… I remember we also had a big oak tree.  I'll tell you at the beginning of the story that Dad cut that one down, too, a couple months ago.  It had a big branch that had a horizontal branch that he hung a climbing rope for that.  He'd say to us, while we were climbing, "You don't want to fall, right?  So you won't."  That dispelled fear of heights that I had as a kid.  Too much, really.  It came back to me when I was 35, and I won't go any higher than a stepladder.  So I'd use the tree to hide from people.  Somebody would come over who I didn't want to play with, and I'd climb 50 feet in the air while my mom was calling, "Billy, your friends are here…."  I should write about that for Trees, Volume 2.  She never takes the bait every time I mention it.

ML: Hey, I've already written a couple songs!

How did the two of you meet?

MK: Well, we met because you posted a clip of the video in progress of "People Really Like Milk."  I thought, "Hey, that's really cool, I'm going to say 'hi' to that person right now" and I reached out to him and bought his record and he thought of me as a nice, crazy fan until he figured it out and we've been talking shop ever since and enjoying each other's sense of humor.

Fast forward a few years, he said he was writing an album about trees.  I've often along the way as work-avoidance behaviors, messed in other people's business instead of doing what I need to be doing.  I said, "Here's a trees song" and I wrote "Standing By You, Sapling," and offered it up to him…  He said, "Hey, you want to do this with me?" and I said, "Heck, yeah!"  Before that we wrote "Pen Pals" together,

BK: I sent some lyrics, then she wrote a verse in about ten minutes.  So I asked, "Do you want to record this with me?"

ML: And I was just having fun writing the words, but I said, "Sure!"

BK: Molly bought [Thank You for Joining the] Happy Club and the e-mail came in with the subject "Lunch Money" -- I still have it.  That's all it said in the "from" line in the e-mail.  It was the first album I ever sold to a stranger.  At the time, I thought it was weird.  It was an adult e-mailing, buying it and not making any mention of kids and it says "lunch money" for no reason.

ML: It was just the address...

BK: Which I know now as I see about 42 e-mails in my inbox that just say "lunch money." About a week later, I started snooping around and I realized who this was, and I reached out to her…  You know, you [Stefan] tried to introduce me once to someone else via e-mail.  It didn't work out at all.  I think he was too similar to me.  Molly knows everybody in the kindie scene  For a while, I kind of fancied myself the Howard Hughes of kids music.

What was the genesis of Trees specifically?

BK: I had written the opening song called "Trees."  We moved into our new house about 4 years ago and there's this massive, massive tree in our yard, a silver maple.  When you walk past the tree -- it reminded me of that big blue whale that's hanging in the American Museum of Natural History in New York City.  That awe-inspiring feeling you get walking under.  So I wrote that song, "Trees," and then I afterward wrote "(It's Just a) Dumb Ol' Stick" and "Bonsai."  And that was as far as I got.  Molly was so encouraging.  I hope I'm encouraging to her, but mainly I hope she's encouraging to me.  But I didn't get anywhere .  I put "Bonsai" out [on Again!] because I wanted to get it out there.  Then Molly wrote "Standing By You, Sapling"… And I said, "We should do this."  I should do it with my pal Molly who lives in South Carolina and maybe we'd get to spend time with each other.

ML: There was talk of working with Dean [Jones, producer of Trees].  Normally I'm making records at home with all the other responsibility… Almost like a retreat of song recording sounded like the grand prize.

I've come to decide that a good part of the benefits of vacations -- even working ones where you're just working away from home -- is that you don't have to do all the routine things you'd normally do at home.  You don't have to worry about the garbage or the dishes or the laundry or making sure the kids get off to school OK in the morning.

BK: This is why the staycation will never take over the vacation.

How did the recording process for Trees work?

ML: Robert Drake from WXPN and Kids Corner and KindieComm heard we were doing Trees and asked us to do 15 minutes at KindieComm [in 2014].  I went to Lewisburg to practice some songs with him, so it wouldn't be all be new when we got up on stage.

We left the possibility of working together on the songs on the table, but I don't write much with other people.  So we were sending stuff back and forth, supporting each other's songs.

When we recorded, we brought people out of their comfort zones.  That was where the fact that Dean and Billy are really good musicians helped.

BK: Yeah, that's where the collaboration came in.  I'm flip, Molly's emotional.  For the song "Here Come the Trees," for example, [there's a spoken-word part, and] they tried to get me to talk in just a normal voice.  Molly turned off the light [in the recording studio] and just used a flashlight to help encourage me to be myself.  Or on "The Dichotomous Key," which has a really fast, high-pitched part for Molly to sing.

ML: It was like we were all leaning over the same car engine.  All three of us are bandleaders of our own projects, so we'd bring in our own ideas on arrangements… It was suggested that everybody should sing together, like at a funeral, for "Count Your Rings."  That was weird.

BK: We were literally standing together, like at a funeral.  We were so serious.

ML: There were other points where we were dancing around [Billy], on "I, Wood."

BK: While I was doing my Tom Jones impression...

ML: We were feeding off each other.

BK: The whole week was so fun.  They'd be dancing around me, trying not to make the floorboards creak.  It really was a three-way split.

How much did you know about trees before writing and recording the album?  Did you check out a book on California?  [That, readers, is a shout-out to "Coniferous Trees."]

BK: Hah!  Yes, we checked out some books.  Years ago, I was a birdwatcher, and so learned some about trees through that.  I had a casual interest in trees, but by no means was I am expert.  My songs [on the album] were more info-driven and on things that I didn't know [when I started].

ML: I don't really know much about trees -- I thought I would learn more when I started this project.

It's funny, when we announced the project, we'd get letters or posts from people who, in all seriousness, would say things like, "I'm sure you're going to do the birch."

BK: "The willow!"

ML: So on "Trees," which leads off the album, Billy gave me the more dreamy, less technical lines, which really set up the whole structure of the album…  On "Coniferous Tree," his instructions when he gave me the lyrics were that I should make it as difficult as possible for him.

BK: She was supposed to be the Fozzie Bear to my Kermit

ML: So there was the script, and I was really sick that wick.  We stayed with Rachel Loshak (singer and wife of Gustafer Yellowgold creator Morgan Taylor), and she took care of me and was such a mom to me and would send me with concoctions.  I was in a bit of a daze.  I'd kind of lost my place in some of the songs.

BK: I'd get a little frustrated with her interruptions, and then I'd remember that my instructions to her were "Try To Ruin The Song."

ML: I like to think of it as, "That's Molly, daydreaming" and there's Billy, trying to provide real information.

So what from this experience do you take away into the rest of your recording life?

BK: I want to be first and I want to be sincere?  Can I? I love my studio here, working with my band, but the experience of this was one in a million.  The whole week was great, Dean was on point the whole time.  The takeaway was something like this might not happen again -- it was magic and creative.  We talk often about working together on other things, but I don't know if we could recapture it.  Even if we didn't record anything, the week was worth it.

ML: For me, it's the power of working with other people who are also writers of words, of melodies.  It was kind of electric.

It had to happen fast.  Sometimes there's the danger of taking a song and everybody knows it so well, it's lost that brand-new magic.  I've learned that the first time you sing a song, that's the take you want.  Redoing it, you can't recapture the magic, you lose touch with the magic.  I'd tell Dean, "This isn't practice… let's record the vocal just in case."

BK: Half the album is probably first takes.

ML: We did one take "Angel Oak," Count Your Rings," "Acorns" -- the first takes had so much of what they had to have.  We did those songs live.  On "To the Woods," we learned the song together… It was so fun what I want to take away from it in [other] times is to do my best to have that live quality in recording and not get too bogged down in click tracks and having everybody taking their turn.

BK: It was really interesting have three leaders… and no fights.

​Photo credits: J.P. Stephens (Lumos Studios)

How I Got Here: Jazzy Ash (Ella Jenkins and Ella Fitzgerald)

Offstage, she's known as Ashli Christoval, but kids probably know her best as Jazzy Ash, whose music brings some of the sound of New Orleans to kids music.  She's just kicked off a PledgeMusic campaign for her new album Bon Voyage! and, yes, she's going back for another trip through the city's rich musical heritage.

So I thought it appropriate for Ashli to take a look back at her own musical heritage, and in the latest iteration of the "How I Got Here" series, she offers praises to three albums from a couple artists you may have heard of, Ella Jenkins and Ella Fitzgerald.

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I had never really thought about it before, but my musical career has really been shaped by two ladies named Ella.

My childhood was surrounded by an eclectic collection of music. My mom is from New Orleans, my dad is from Trinidad, and when I was growing up my mother ran a daycare in our home. So, I was exposed to music of all kinds - music for learning, music for fun, music of tradition, and music of culture. I was really blessed - or weird, depending on how you look at it.

In the way the every home has a certain scent, that’s how music was in our house. It was always there, but not necessarily something I had a keen ear to. Although, I would find myself humming Greg & Steve tunes down the halls of my junior high school - because Greg & Steve songs are so darn catchy!

One day, we were watching Mister Rogers. I was way too old for Mister Rogers, but remember, I practically lived in a daycare. Anyhow, my mom explained, “This episode is about Ella Jenkins. She shares songs from the African American tradition.”

I winced. “Oh, no,” I thought, “slave songs.” As far as I could figure, everything I had heard about African American history or tradition had to do with slavery or segregation or something like that. Obviously, those topics are really important to learn about, but they also can be really depressing. And, as a young black girl, it used to make me really blue when all anyone ever talked about in black history were the bad things that happened to us.

But Ella Jenkins didn’t come from that angle at all. This kind-faced woman stood on Mister Rogers’ front lawn and glanced into the camera, quite warmly. The songs she shared were, dare I say, fun! They were playful, and they had rhythm and groove and soul. I felt proud.

That moment was very monumental for me. I knew that I wanted to be part of the artist community that used art to preserve the wonderful the stories of culture.

By my freshmen in high school, I was really deep. I was too cultured for pop music, and was looking for something more…“satisfying.” Haha!

In Target one afternoon, I stumbled up on a compilation CD called Sirens of Song and took it home. It promised to be a collection of the best voices in jazz. I had been exposed to traditional New Orleans jazz since I was a baby, but most New Orleans jazz doesn’t include a vocalist. This was something new for me entirely.

Now, everybody’s heard of Billie Holliday. But now I had Sarah Vaughn, Edith Piaf, Lena Horne, and Nina Simone. It couldn’t get better. And then, it did!

Ella Fitzgerald sauntered in on Track #4. She was singing “I’m Getting Sentimental Over You,” and it’s not overstated to say that I have never been the same. I was completely engrossed.

I had to have more, so I stepped up my game. I went to Virgin Records.

I bought Ella Fitzgerald’s albums Flying Home and Ella & Louis. Oh, Lordy. I played those CDs over and over, trying to figure out how she could make her voice sound like a sip of hot chocolate. I mean, “Moonlight in Vermont” still brings a tear to my eye. Her ballads are so effortless and smooth.  Her work with Louis Armstrong is so beautifully rough around the edges, and has that familiar New Orleans, street-side flare. And then I moved into her playful be-bop tunes, like “Air Mail Special.”  She’s a scatting genius! I spent months memorizing every phrase. Someone was finally speaking my language. 

It’s because of Ella that I become completely obsessed with jazz. My collection expanded: more Louis, Sidney Bechet, Fats Waller (love him!), and Duke Ellington, whom I named my son after.

Having children of my own re-inspired my love children’s music. In my early twenties, I developed a preschool music program, and I had the privilege of sharing the music of children’s music legends: Greg & Steve, Cathy Fink, and Hap Palmer and, of course, Ella Jenkins. Through her albums, this Ella taught me so much about how to share cultural music in a playful, engaging way.

A few years into my music program, I started writing and performing my own music for children. I was still listening to Ella Fitzgerald and other early jazz religiously, and had even purchased a record player to make my jazz appreciation appear more legit. But I never thought about bringing my love for early jazz into my songwriting.

Then I went to KindieFest 2013. It was magical for me in two ways. First, I got to meet - no, hug! – Ella Jenkins and tell her how much she her work meant to me. I’ll never forget that moment.

Secondly, somebody on a panel said, “Even in kid’s music, you have to find your own voice.” That stuck with me. I knew my “voice” was roots jazz, but I guess I thought it might be too heavy for kids. But then I remembered Ella Jenkins’ playful approach to traditional music. I remembered Ella Fitzgerald’s sweetness that felt like a warm hug. Well, playfulness and sweetness – what kid doesn’t love those things?? That was my aha! moment.

Since then, my music has been a gumbo pot full of the rich children’s music I grew up with and the roots jazz tunes that are so close to my heart. For me it’s the perfect combination, and I’m in heaven every time I take the stage.  Thanks Ellas!

Listen To This: "The Way We Gets Down" - Mista Cookie Jar

Another month, another new track from Mista Cookie Jar.  This time, it's "The Way We Gets Down," and it's a celebratory track jazzy/hip-hop hybrid with a hint of New Orleans in the mix (perfect for Mardi Gras, right?).  With lyrics like, "Hi to all my hybrids / maximizing hyphens / Duck-billed platypi / confounding bio-science / Oh, what a riot! / It's categorically defying," it's very much in MCJ's wheelhouse.

Mista Cookie Jar - "The Way We Gets Down" [Bandcamp]

Video: "Gravy Insane" - Gustafer Yellowgold

Based on the lyrics and video for "Gravy Insane," the brand new song from Gustafer Yellowgold, perhaps the follow-up to the excellent Gustafer Yellowgold's Wisdom Tooth of Wisdom will explore slightly darker paths.  The song recounts how Gustafer's forest friends become gravy gluttons, keeping in line with the Gusta-verse's previously established food obsessions ("I Jump on Cake," anyone?).

Then again, reminders that bats can't drive cars are inherently humorous, IMO.

Gustafer Yellowgold - "Gravy Insane" [YouTube]

Newborn: Buni Kimono

There aren't a lot of musical niches that haven't been invaded by the kids music world, but glam rock is one of the more sparsely used genres.

I really dig, though, the brand new song "Neon Nursery" from Buni Kimono, which is the brainchild of Boston-area musicians Gabrielle Brennan and Jake Brennan, who co-wrote and performed the song as a "passion project" for their son's first birthday.  The birthday party had a "record release" theme, so OF COURSE they wrote his first single.  (I mean, right?)

It's just a fun song, which you can stream and download for free below.  Here's hoping there's a second song and no sophomore slump.  (They've only got a year to write and record the follow-up, right?)

Buni Kimono - "Neon Nursery" [Bandcamp]

Review: The Cosmobiography of Sun Ra / Jubilee!

Two books, two very different celebrations of two very different men from Candlewick Press.  Or how very different were they?

Jubilee! features the subtitle One Man's Big, Bold, and Very, Very Loud Celebration of Peace, and from that wordy subtitle you may not be surprised that the book focuses on a story from the last part of the nineteenth century, when florid descriptions ruled the day.  Author Alicia Potter recounts the story of Irish-born bandleader Patrick Sarsfield Gilmore, creator of the National Peace Jubilee in 1869, which he conceived of to celebrate the return of peace at the end of the Civil War.

I was completely unaware of Gilmore and his Jubilee, and so I found that Potter does a good job of maintaining narrative tension in the story.  If you, too, are unfamiliar, after reading the story you might wonder why, as it involved the construction of a building (the Temple of Peace) which stood 500 feet long, 300 feet wide, and 100 feet tall at its highest point.  Or you might be amazed that a concert featuring a thousand musicians (including a hundred firemen hammering time on anvils) and ten thousand singers has faded from historical view.  Potter's text is accompanied by clear, detailed illustrations from Matt Tavares, who nicely captures both the small-scale scenes (Gilmore, awake at night from worry about whether the concert will come off) and the very large-scale scenes.

Jubilee! will be most appropriate for kids ages 4 through 9 (the text itself is probably more for kids in 2nd grade on up, but the pictures make it appropriate for reading to those younger than that).  While the Jubilee itself was a celebration of peace, this book is a celebration of grand plans and the ability of music to capture the imaginations of tens of thousands of people.

America has long been a nation of immigrants who've fully embraced, and been embraced by, their new country -- see Gilmore, above -- but does that apply to those who visit from other planets?  Two-time Caldecott Medal winner Chris Raschka's new book The Cosmobiography of Sun Ra captures in impressionistic illustrations the life of Herman P. "Sunny" Blount.  If you know Blount, you probably know him as Sun Ra, the musician and poet (among other things) who claimed that he was from Saturn.

As Raschka writes in the start of the book, "No one comes from Saturn.  And yet.  If he did come from Saturn, it would explain so much."  The story Raschka tells is of a person who fully embraced life and the many opportunities in America.  He played piano, leading his own ensemble before leaving high school, and was one of the first musicians to use electronic keyboards.  His band, the Arkestra, made its own clothes.

If it seems like Ra was a little out of the mainstream, you'd be right, and Rashka's text celebrates that "follow your own drummer" path without glossing over the difficulties (one of my favorite lines in the book: "One disadvantage of coming from Saturn, though, was that Sun Ra could never really understand or care too much about money.  The New York landlords, on the other hand, did, and kicked the Arkestra out…").  Raschka's watercolor and ink illustrations contain riots of color and feel true to life even if they aren't completely faithful to "real life."  This artistic choice is perfect for Sun Ra, known for his eclectic jazz compositions.

The Cosmobiography of Sun Ra will appeal most to readers ages 6 through 10.  It's not a huge book, dimensions-wise, and the swirls of color rather than precise drawings may make this book better enjoyed side-by-side than shared with a classroom of kids for optimal appreciation.

Both these books celebrate musical heroes whose names will be unfamiliar to kids and probably their parents.  In their own distinct ways, they honor the memories of these two visionaries.  Recommended.

Note: I received copies of both books for possible review.