As way of introduction to the self-titled 2005 debut from Vancouver, British Columbia's,
Sam's Rot'n Pot'n Pan Band, I should note that Vancouver is my favorite city in the world. This is probably due to the fact that my dad was born and raised there and our not infrequent travels there as I grew up. One of my great memories of the city is going to Expo '86, Vancouver's World Fair. What I remember most about Expo '86 is the Shuffle Demons, a jazzy saxophone-driven band who, believe it or not, are still going strong (check out their
Myspace page), but who, that summer, were still pretty much street musicians. I thought they were awesome.
If Vancouver held its World Fair 20 years later (and I was maybe ten years younger than I was in 1986), I would hold Sam's Rot'n Pot'n Pan Band in the same regard.
Their 34 minute album is, I suspect, less an album than it is a collection of their greatest hits playing at festivals and markets. (If they lived in the States, they could tweak their act to tour around the country at Renaissance Festivals.) "The Treasure Map," a 4-minute pirate story is pretty good on record, but I can totally imagine how captivating it might be live. Same with the jokey "Opera Man," which does earn bonus points for including a selection from "Carmen." Which isn't to say that there aren't some great standalone tracks here. The first track, "A Turtle Named Roy" covers the essence of turtles, memories of childhood, explanation of what a 45 is, and a celebration of one of the great voices in American pop records, and all in about three minutes. The next track, "Your Parents Eat Your Candy," is a rollicking blues reminiscent of the Boston band Morphine, and is a confirmation of every kid's suspicions about their parents. After those two tracks, the rest of the album suffers a little bit in comparison. (I should also point out "Accounting Singalong," though, which is nothing but a 30-second musical joke, but a pretty darn funny one.) The trio are adept with their instruments, and the semi-regular use of kids' voices is handled well.
I think kids ages 3 through 8 are most likely to enjoy the album. You can hear samples (and buy the album, for those of you not lucky enough to live in Vancouver), at the band's
website (follow the treasure map to "Samples," where you can also watch videos for "Treasure Map" that confirm my suspicion that the song would be awesome live).
So there you go. It's an album that lists among the instruments "suitcase," "doodads," and (my favorite, and immediately obvious when you hear it) "handfarts." As a result, while I recognize that my affinity for the album may be clouded by other personal affinities,
Sam's Rot'n Pot'n Pan Band is a collection of fun recordings that I suspect serves as a good souvenir of what must be a hoot-and-a-half of a performance. Recommended.
Los Angeles-based musician Parker Bent makes his living as a preschool music teacher, which means he gets to hone his performing skills on a daily basis. It's those performing skills that get a workout on Charlie Davidson's Tricycle Club, his second CD, released earlier this month.
As an album, Charlie is a bit more coherent than Bent's debut, I Am Your New Music Teacher, which was all over the map in musical styles in its brief running time. Over the course of 37 minutes, many of the 14 tracks sound like they've been recovered from a long lost 1970's AM kids radio. On "Allow Me," a song about, well, boogers, Bent does his best Johnny Cash impersonation, while on "Scooch Back," he melds a Lynyrd Skynyrd-worthy riff with a topic dear to many kids' hearts -- crowding the TV. ("My Little Big Brother" also throws in a Southern rock sound, but not nearly so overt.)
Beyond adding musical wit to his melodies (such as the "neener-neener-neener" riff on the bluesy "Things I Like To Do (mom says I can't do no more)" or the effects-pedal-exuberance of "Old MacDonald Had A Farm"), Bent uses his vocals to draw smiles out of his youthful audience. The space opera "Spaceman Steve" has Bent playing multiple parts, while his live cover of the Stones' "You Can't Always Get What You Want" teases his preschool audience in part by occasionally singing the wrong lyric -- you can hear the glee in the kids' voices as they correct him. The CD is even a little educational as a couple short "Notes/Chords" interludes teach the difference between the two. (Unfortunately, their placement in the sequence didn't make perfect sense to me as, for example, the snippet using the harmonica didn't come before a song using the harmonica. Good idea and well-executed, I'd've just put 'em elsewhere in the CD.)
I'm going to peg the CD as most appropriate for kids ages 3 through 7, though there's some wiggle room on either side of that. You can hear extended samples of several songs at the album's CDBaby page.
Charlie Davidson's Tricycle Club reflects the promise of Bent's debut CD. It's silly enough to keep kids' attention and definitely musical enough to satisfy not just the kids but their parents, too. Recommended.
