Review Two-Fer: Mick Cooke and Nick Cope

DownAtTheZoo_MickCooke.jpgThere is just barely enough kids' music in the United Kingdom that reaches North America for me to note how little kids' music there is in the United Kingdom whenever I review an album from across the pond. But the genre there is maturing a little bit, as evidenced by the number of albums released by artists best known for playing for adults. Two of the most recent come from Mick Cooke -- best known as a member of the band Belle and Sebastian, but a composer and arranger for film and TV as well -- and Nick Cope of the now-dormant band the Britpop band Candyskins. Cooke's album Down at the Zoo sounds very much like a soundtrack to an animated children's TV special about, well, a zoo with anthropomorphically familar residents. It's an extension of "The Monkeys Are Breaking Out the Zoo," Belle and Sebastian's contribution to Colours Are Brighter, the kids-comp Cooke put together a few years back. On that song (also here), the monkeys scamper ouf of the zoo, while the peacock sings "Pay attention to me / pay attention to me" ("The Peacock Strut") and the penguins goof off playing Dixieland jazz ("Playtime for the Penguins"). They're character sketches primarily, with a mix of simply-arranged pop styles that don't step much into rock territory, though the tracks that do -- "We Are the Tigers" and the especially awesome "The Crocodile Synchronised Swimming Team" -- are among the best. But the 32-minute album (listen to a couple tracks and hear more about the recording here) probably won't satisfy fans of Colours Are Brighter hoping for yet another, more muscular collection of rockers recorded for adults as much as kids. MySocks.jpgAs gentle as Cooke's album is, Cope's is even more delicate. My Socks is his second album for families, following up last year's What Colour Is Your T Shirt?, and it features hummable acoustic chamber-pop tunes about very preschool-ish issues. The title track is an unambiguous and unironic celebration of, well, socks. Other songs deal with going to the grocery store ("The Very Long Shopping List", which could be a long-lost Burt Bacharach track), bubble baths ("Pour in the Bubbles"), and manners ("Thankyou"). It's mostly mellow mid-tempo stuff about familiar concerns, which makes a song like the peppy "There's a Bear" (most preschoolers having not seen "a bear / over there") stand out even more. It's a good album for a rainy day. Despite their UK origins, both albums are available Stateside (via iTunes and other outlets). Parents who pick up Down at the Zoo or My Socks in hopes of finding a string of pop gems that they will listen to without reserve when their kids are out of the room or the car will be disappointed -- these albums' target audience is unambiguously the preschoolers. But just as it's important sometimes to listen to your own stuff and not have kids music totally take over your stereo or iPod, it's important that preschoolers occasionally get music recorded without hesitation for them. And I'd recommend crafted-with-care-and-purpose albums like these two above most mass-produced TV tie-in stuff for this age. Here's hoping they encourage more folks to join 'em. Disclosure: I received copies of the albums for possible review.

Why I Go To Church and Baseball Games

DiamondbacksLogo.gifAs I sat amongst roughly 49,000 other fans last night at Chase Field watching the hometown Arizona Diamondbacks thoroughly dominate the Milwaukee Brewers 8-1 to force their playoff series to a Game Four, it occurred to me that there are two places where praying publicly is tolerated or even expected -- church and your local sporting stadium ("oh please, oh please, turn the double play"). I'm not sure there's a direct connection, but those are the two places where you can expect to hear group singing on a regular basis. In the Christian church, regardless of whether you're singing Ralph Vaughan Williams or some modern praise song, there will likely be at least a couple points where your vocal participation is encouraged. And every sporting event will start out with the national anthem (two, at most hockey games), with sing-song chants (or actual songs) used to varying degrees in different stadia and sports. I have long sung the praises (so to speak) of singing in groups. Bill Harley suggests that "singing is an expression and fostering of community." In that regard, it's not that surprising that religion and sports -- two realms in which community is an essential component of participation and enjoyment -- still turn to communal singing as ways of bringing and keeping its attendees in the fold. Singing those centuries-old hymns that I may never have heard before but sound so familiar anyway -- that's one of the things I most enjoy about church. And sports? I suspect that one of the reasons I have little taste for pro basketball (and to a lesser extent pro football and hockey) is that after the national anthem, the crowd is mostly silent, relentlessly pummeled by a sound system cranked up to loud volumes in order to generate a simulacrum of energy. College sports (at least when and where I went to school) generally had more crowd participation, at least in certain sections, as the cheers and songs were crowd-driven -- between the fight songs and the bands playing the same dozen or so popular songs game in, game out, I did a fair amount of singing on fall Saturday afternoons and winter Wednesday evenings. Two of my favorite sports -- baseball and soccer -- may just be the biggest encouragers of song and chant in the sporting world. Soccer matches around the globe have songs and chants echoing through the stands for the entire game. And in baseball, besides the chants which seem every bit as important to some kids' rhythmic development as patty-cake ("here we go, D-Backs, here we go!") and which occur more often, it seems, than at other professional sporting events, we have at least one other song where it's exepcted that everyone sings. Even better, "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" is sung across Major League Baseball, so even if you're visiting another stadium you're guaranteed to be able to sing it. (And now you often get "God Bless America" thrown into the mix, a song which, regardless of your take on God's blessing of America, does have a pretty cool melodic line and is quite fun to sing.) I'm not going to suggest that you take your kids to church -- no way am I stepping into that discussion -- but I am going to suggest that you take your kids to a baseball game for their musical development. I don't know if Bill Harley would agree, but I'm willing to bet he's a baseball fan...

Review: Little Nut Tree - Dan Zanes and Friends

LittleNutTree_lowres.jpgI've already reviewed Dan Zanes' latest album for NPR. But there's a lot I can't say in a sub-4-minute review with sound clips, so I thought I'd add a few comments on Little Nut Tree, Zanes' sixth "proper" family album. First, it's been a long time since Zanes released a "family" album, more than five years. And while Nueva York!, The Welcome Table, and 76 Trombones weren't bad albums -- even the least-satisfying Zanes album is better than 85-90% of family music released in a given year -- they lacked the everything-including-the-kitchen-sink variety of songs that is an important part of Zanes' appeal. It's not the scattershot approach of many kids' albums -- one reggae tune, one hip-hop, one glossy pop -- but rather songs from many traditions, filtered through Zanes' garage-folk lens, which lends his family albums some continuity but keeps the music fresh.

Itty-Bitty Review: These Are My Friends - Alastair Moock

TheseAreMyFriends.gifTrue confession time: I almost never listen to Woody Guthrie's kids' music records. Oh, sure, I liked them, but if you check out that link, you'll note that while I think Guthrie's a great and prolific songwriter, I'm not a big fan of Guthrie's voice or his production. (Note: neither is Robert Christgau, it would seem.) Which brings us to Massachusetts musician Alastair Moock and his new album These Are My Friends. On this, his second album for kids, Moock dives even deeper into the wordplay and preschool-friendly songs that were Guthrie's strengths. Guthrie would be proud to call many of these songs his own (heck, he already has, at least in the case of "Mail Myself To You," which Moock covers appealingly). "CBAs and a Twinkle Baa" is a stone-cold mixed-up kindie classic, guaranteed to leave a group of 4-year-olds laughing. (Or hopelessly confused, if the inscrutable "From Me To You" hasn't already.) And unlike Guthrie's lo-fi productions and voice, Moock's got an appealing (if gravelly) voice and a relaxed but clean sound on the album. Moock also draws on a wide variety of guest artists, including Rani Arbo (the chipper "Feets Up"), Anand Nayak (who helped produce the album and joins Mook and "Born to Dance"), Mark Erelli (a bluesy "Ladybugs' Picnic"), and Kris Delmhorst (a lovely "Green Green Rocky Road"). And none of the guests feel out of place, tacked on just to impress -- "These Are My Friends," indeed. The 37-minute album will be most appreciated by kids ages 3 through 7. You can listen to samples here. On These Are My Friends, Alastair Moock provides fresh folk for fresh folk, a worthy 21st-century spiritual successor to Guthrie's music. It's a solid album Woody would dig. Recommended. Disclosure: I received a copy of the album for possible review.

Monday Morning Smile: "Growing Up" - Lullatone

Soundtracks for Everyday Adventures.jpgThe band Lullatone has often walked that line of being "for" adults" without in any way being inappropriate for kids. This new video for the leadoff track to their upcoming album Soundtracks for Everyday Adventures continues much along those lines. It's a pleasant little song, perfect for a Monday morning, and will leave your kids wondering, "those three guys all look the same!" (And, if you're me, thinking, "Huh. A-flat major. That's a key I'd never think to try to write (or play) a song in.") Grab the track for free using the widget below, or just enjoy the video... Lullatone - "Growing Up" [Vimeo]

Itty-Bitty Review: Practically Ridiculous - The Jimmies

PracticallyRidiculous.jpgSomebody just go ahead and give Ashley Albert her own TV show already. In fact, she has indeed been looking for a show, and why anyone as talented as Albert (and as willing to send photos of her wearing a fake mustache as her press shot) isn't yet somewhere on live-action TV is a little mystifying to me. But for now Albert -- kindie's Lucille Ball -- is content to rock out with The Jimmies. On the Jimmies' long-in-the-recording second album, the recently-released Practically Ridiculous, Albert continues the formula for success that made their debut CD Make Your Own Someday so winning: channeling one's inner eight-year-old attitude while marshaling top-notch pop-rock music production as backup for said thoughts. Stylistically, sartorially, and practically (she's the one constant Jimmie at this point and the songs are all hers), Albert is kindie rock's Gwen Stefani, and on Practically Ridiculous, she polishes most songs to a glitzy pop-rock shine. You can practically smell the hairspray through the iPod on some of the songs, like the blitzing "Birthday," whereas songs like "Minivan Hotrod" or "Career Day" sound like the beats and the AutoTune were stolen from another, much less funny track. And, really, it's bringing the funny that separates the Jimmies from a lot of other kids' acts. It's one thing to be excited about getting a pet ("Gonna Get a Hamster"), it's another thing entirely to really sell the enthusiasm when Albert as the song's narrator finds out that the hamster won't necessarily do everything she thought ("I'M... STILL... gonna get a hamster..."). This is where her years of experience doing voiceover work comes in handy. "The Hook" is a meta-song, the spiritual sequel to "What's That Sound?" from the first album, that explains pop song construction. (And while I'm emphasizing the humor here, the best track is probably the mostly serious "Bonfire," which mixes a little country-rock with a little self-empowerment.) The album's most appropriate for kids ages 5 through 9; you can hear clips of the album wherever it's (electronically) sold. Practically Ridiculous doesn't veer much from the formula from the Jimmies' debut, but why should it when that one worked out so well? This one does, too, TV's (temporary?) loss is kindie's (continued) gain. Definitely recommended. Disclosure: I received a copy of the album for possible review.