Review in Brief: Songs For Kids Like Us - Robbie Schaefer

[Here because Robbie sent you? Welcome! If you dig this album, there's plenty more great music here at the website (but few carp). Explore and thanks for stopping by!]If you're an adult, and you title your debut kids' music CD Songs For Kids Like Us, you've implied a certain level of (im)maturity to the prospective listener. On his 2006 kids' music debut, Virginia-based Robbie Schaefer (guitarist for adult rock band Eddie From Ohio) meets those expectations. Indeed, in the liner notes he thanks his family for seeing that he's got the "emotional maturity of a five-year-old" and recognizing that he should "use that to [his] advantage." The best songs on the CD are those where he lets his inner five-year-old out -- the backwards lyrics on the countryfied "Cowboy Bob," the sheer silliness of "There's a Carp in the Tub" (with a background group of... carp? singing "Carp. Carp.") Schaefer sticks mostly to folk and bluegrass in his tunes, though he employs pop on the album's best track, the leadoff "No! No! No!," and pulls in accordion and trumpet on the mariachi-inflected "Fredinand." He also turns two versions of "Chicken Lips," covered by someone slightly more well-known (Bruce Springsteen) a number of years ago. I could do without one of those versions (one version goes a long way) and the bland version of a "There's A Hole in the Bucket," though -- it seems out of place amongst the rest of the weirdness. (Oh, and the cartoony "Professor Schnoodle," bugs me too, but longtime readers know my aversion to cartoony voices.) You can listen to three songs off the album at the album's website. Overall, Songs For Kids Like Us is a nicely thought-out and well-executed debut that makes me hope that Schaefer hasn't exhausted his immaturity just yet. Recommended.

Review: Tall and Small - Rebecca Frezza

With her third studio album, Tall and Small (2006), set to be released next week, Rebecca Frezza and her band Big Truck make a bid for kids' music stardom. The New Jersey-based singer/songwriter has had videos on Noggin, but this album seems one of those CDs designed to attract even wider attention. Take, for example, what would be considered the lead single off the album, "It Wasn't Me," about receiving blame (or placing it on somebody else). Frezza and Big Truck take the song, written by Ron Cardazone, and craft it into an insanely catchy tune with a number of musical layers. The secret is taking the "tattletale" song -- you'll know it when you hear it -- and weaving it into the chorus. (And this isn't the confident narrator of Justin Roberts' "My Brother Did It," but a much more uncertain 6-year-old, which may appeal to 6-year-olds for an entirely different reason than Roberts' song appeals to them.) Frezza is no slouch herself in the songwriting department, writing or co-writing 12 of the album's 14 tracks. A couple of the stronger tracks include the title track, which has a melody that climbs and falls repeatedly, nicely echoing the subject of the song, and "Show Me!," which borrows some of the guitar riff from "What I Like About You" to create an energetic song that encourages movement (I'm envisioning a very hyperactive crowd in concert). The better songs generally were those which used the skills of the 8-member Big Truck band to good effect on the pop-rock tunes -- fiddle and mandolin on the Irish-tinged "Tell Me A Story," or the nifty guitar work on the "Can't Let Go Blues." I tended to prefer the faster songs, finding some of the lyrics on the slow songs worked a bit too hard at establishing the positive message that runs throughout the album. ("Happy" in particularly didn't work for me at all, though I could see how a 4-year-old, after wiggling through Frezza's faster numbers, might be more receptive to the message than I.) The faster songs seemed to convey Frezza's lyrical points with more ease. The 41-minuste album is laser-targeted at kids ages 4 through 8. You can now hear clips of the album at Frezza's website (click on "Music & Lyrics" at the top, then on the album cover); they're also available at Amazon. Rebecca Frezza and Big Truck are clearly shooting for the stars with this album, seeking a wider audience. As a whole, Tall and Small is an album deserving of that wider audience that this kid-targeted and adult-friendly CD will bring them. Recommended.

Review: Snail Song & Magic Toast - The Sippy Cups

Review: A Play in One Act With three characters: Dude 1, Dude 2, and Mr. Roommate: Dude 1: Whoa, dude, that Sippy Cups song is deep! Dude 2: Totally, dude! Dude 1: I mean, it's about, like, life. Dude 2: Totally. Dude 1: It's like... a... uh... simile! Dude 2: Simile? It is so not a simile, dude. Dude 1: No, dude? Dude 2: No, dude. It's a metaphor. Dude 1: I'm not sure I agree with you, there, dude Dude 2: Why not? Dude 1: Well, look, there's this song, and it's about "Magic Toast," right? Dude 2: Right. Dude 1: And it sounds just like the Mamas and the Papas, maybe, or some psychedelic band from the late '60s, right? Dude 2: Right. Dude 1: So when they're talking about the magic toast and how it gives the boy a "lift," they're clearly making the analogy that breakfast is like life. And the toast is, you know... Dude 2: Yeah, but what you're describing is a metaphor, dude. They're not using the word "like" or anything. Dude 1: Hey, what you know about grammar, dude, could fit inside my... Dude 1's Roommate, dressed as always in suit and tie, walks into the room. Roommate: Oh, it's you again... dude. Dude 2: Hey, man, what's your problem? You're always bringin' me down! Roommate: Well, every time I come home from... what's that place called... oh, yeah, work, you two guys are sitting here eating grilled cheese sandwiches and having these abstract philosophical discussions. Dude 1: We were not! Roommate: Oh, really? Dude 2: Yeah! We were having an abstract grammatical discussion. Roommate: I don't believe it. What were you guys discussing? Dude 1 explains the crux of the dilemma. Roommate: Much as it pains me to say it, dude, your friend is correct. A simile is a figure of speech that expresses a resemblance between things of different kinds and is usually formed with "like" or "as." A metaphor, on the other hand, is a figure of speech in which an expression is used to refer to something that it does not literally denote in order to suggest a similarity. Dude 1: Ah. Righteous, dude. You bring clarity. Roommate: What I can't figure out is why you're spending the evening listening -- repeatedly -- to an album that is targeted to kids aged 2 through 7. I know, I know, it's appealing to a lot of adults, and the band's from San Francisco, but "Magic Toast" is neither simile nor metaphor... it's about TOAST! And while that song is OK (I confess to a weakness for the kazoos) and the "Snail Song" has a pretty awesome power pop finale, that's all the EP is. Two original tracks with the other two tracks just being the first two tracks overlaid with spoken word narrative. Dude 2: Dude, you're just cheap. Roommate: Uhhh... maybe you're right. Pass the grilled cheese sandwiches. Dudes 1 and 2: Right on, dude.

Review In Brief: Kids Rock For Peas! - The Sippy Cups

How best to describe the San Francisco-based The Sippy Cups? Perhaps they're what would happen if your favorite '70s cover band decided they just wanted to play for preschoolers. And added puppets and jugglers. On their 2005 debut album Kids Rock For Peas!, the seven-member ensemble (recorded live at the Rickshaw Stop in San Francisco) cover a wide range of '60s and '70s songs on the 47-minute disc, from the Beatles ("Dear Prudence") to the Velvet Underground ("Who Loves the Sun") to the Ramones, mostly ("I Wanna Be Elated"). You might ask, you know, those are pretty darn good songs -- in the original -- why in the world would I want to buy cover versions? Well, not that the Sippy Cups' versions are better than the originals, but the vigorous renditions of the songs and the occasional alterations to make them child-friendly (or child-friendlier) give them value in their own right. (They single-handedly rescue War's "Low Rider" from the clutches of beer commercials and "Jungle Boogie" from the clutches of Quentin Tarantino.) If the occasional song seems out-of-place ("Bennie and the Jets") or the live banter just slows the pace down, that's the risk one takes with a live package. (The presence of "Super Guy" will probably bring a smile to the parents' faces.) The songs are probably best for kids ages 2 through 6, though obviously any album covering the Beatles, Rolling Stones, and Neil Diamond will probably find fans whose ages reached double-digits long ago. You can check out some video clips here. Recommended, unless for some weird reason you think Lennon/McCartney (or, er, McCartney/Lennon) wasn't that great of a song-writing duo.

Review: Lead Belly Sings For Children - Lead Belly

It's hard to think about a time before "children's music" was even a genre, back before, well, if we weren't walking to school in the snow uphill both ways, at least before satellite and internet radio offered people thousands of listening choices. But there were a few artists that recorded songs for kids (if not exclusively) a half-century ago and for their continued presence on CD, we have the fine folks at Smithsonian Folkways to thank. Of the four major kids' artists on Folkways' roster (Ella Jenkins, Pete Seeger, Lead Belly, and Woody Guthrie), Lead Belly's collection of children's music is the most compact (read: easiest to review), and that's where I'll begin. Lead Belly was born in 1888 and, according to the detailed liner notes in Lead Belly Sings For Children, Folkways' 1999 collection of his children's material, he claimed to have collected 500 songs over the 60 years of his life. From that perspective, Lead Belly was clearly important to 20th century American music and this collection should be considered "essential" for that alone. It's a reference CD of sorts. But I'm sure you have heard many "essential" albums that sat unused on your shelf for yours or went back to the library without even one renewal -- is this one of those albums? Thankfully, there is enough great material that merits repeated spins by a modern audience. The album is grouped by type of song, starting off with children's rhymes and game songs from many years ago, such as "More Yet" and "Sally Walker," then sliding into blues songs (though those are certainly mixed throughout the entire collection). The spirituals collected here are given fine renditions as well, getting a group of children to sing with him on "Every Time I Feel the Spirit" and "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot." The collection ends with a series of work songs, many of which will be familiar to modern listeners, including "John Henry" and "Pick a Bale of Cotton." (Any interpreter of children's and folk songs worth his or her salt will have covered at least one of the songs here.) My ears are spoiled by modern production values, and so I was pleased by the fact that these recordings, some of which are more than 60 years old, sound pretty good. Lead Belly's voice is appealing (I particularly liked the way his voice sounded on his slightly bluesier take on the chorus of "Blue-Tailed Fly (Jimmie, Crack Corn)") and his guitar work (it's generally just him and his guitar) is easily heard. (An exception to the "solo" rule is his lively rendition of "Pick a Bale of Cotton" with the Oleander Quartet.) A minor quibble with the disk is that Lead Belly's introductions (and there are many of them) sound a bit muddled compared to the songs themselves. When Lead Belly get a crowd of children to sing along, however, they sound great. Children aged 2 through 10 or so would probably most appreciate the songs here (though different songs will appeal to different age groups. You can hear clips at the Smithsonian's site. Given the broad historical overview of the collection, and the relative sameness of the songs, it's unlikely that Lead Belly Sings For Children will become you or your child's favorite children's music album. It's very likely, however, that you will find a few songs worth playing repeatedly and that it won't gather much dust on your shelf. Recommended.

Review: Stomp Yer Feet! - Johnny Bregar

Pity the preschool children's musician. Forced to play the same set of familiar songs at least some of the time, yet Raffi (and before him, Ella Jenkins, Pete Seeger, Lead Belly, and Woody Guthrie) got there first and staked their claim. Few artists have managed to make a career out of playing the songs that the above artists perfected. (And believe me, many have tried. And failed.) Laurie Berkner is perhaps the only modern artist who's completely succeeded, and her fame is as much for her original music as it is for her rendition of traditional classics. In walks Johnny Bregar and his late-2005 kids' music debut Stomp Yer Feet!. Bregar, a Seattle-based musician, played in local folk/rock band Big Spoon and found the selection of kids' music for his preschool-aged son wanting. His debut is a stellar collection of mostly traditional folk and other children's tunes, dusted off and given a fresh coat of paint. The album starts off with "If You're Happy And You Know It," played with soul on an electric Rhodes piano ("just like Ray Charles used to play," Bregar writes in the song notes), and immediately all the characteristics of this winning album are revealed -- real instruments both familiar and rare, new sets of lyrics to traditional songs, and Bregar's rich and ever-so-slightly-raspy voice . The "Alphabet Song?" 12-bar blues. "Polly Wolly Doodle?" A little bit of Dixieland, a lot more bluegrass. "Waltzing Matilda" sounds as if it was recorded 60 years ago (but with much better recording equipment). And the ukelele just rocks. All of which might get tiresome eventually if it weren't for the fact that the few originals on the 42-minute disc are pretty good, too. "Blah de la" might get annoying after listening to it 100 times, but its simplicity also makes it a perfect fit for the album -- even the youngest preschooler could probably get the hang of it and sing along. "Pancakes" is another simple cut, not much more than a chorus, but one that Matthew Sweet would be happy to record. And the one fully-realized original, "Moon," about wanting to touch things a kid probably shouldn't, is the song the Counting Crows will record when they eventually decide to stop recording songs for PG-rated movies and set their sights on G-rated movies. The songs will appeal most to kids age 2 through 6. You can listen to samples here and buy the album either through Bregar's website, Amazon, CDBaby, or Land of Nod. I hate to do this to the guy, because Bregar seems like a nice guy, but Johnny Bregar could be the next Raffi. Like Raffi, he's got the musical chops, the sense of humor, and a great voice. (If he's singing about whales 10 years from now, I can't be held responsible.) If you're looking for a collection of traditional kids' songs, and you either already have Raffi's collections or you can't stand Raffi's collections, you should really check out Stomp Yer Feet! -- Bregar's staking his claim to that niche of kids' music. Highly recommended.