Monday Morning Smile: "The Lion" - Benjamin Scheuer (Escapist Papers)

This is a beautiful song, the title track, as it were, from a new autobiographical stage show from Benjamin Scheuer.  Scheuer's show The Lion will get its American premiere in June, but the video for this song performed by Scheuer and his band Escapist Papers has already won awards.

I would note that the song lyrics feature murder and death and sickness amongst animals.  But so does Babar.  In spite of that, it's probably the most uplifting song you'll hear all week, and the animation from Radish Pictures is gorgeous.

Benjamin Scheuer (The Escapist Papers) - "The Lion" [Vimeo]

Weekly Summary (1/20/14 - 2/2/14)

Video: "How Big" - Eric Herman

It has been a long time since Eric Herman has shared a video for the world.  Last week he released a video for "How Big."  The song, from his 2009 album What a Ride, is a big existential look at life and our place in the universe.

Herman could not have known how difficult the next few years would be for him; his wife Roseann passed away last year after battling illness.  He felt a deep need to finally create a video for this song nearly five years after first talking about creating a video.  The result, from animator Mario Marinkovic, is suitably big-picture for the song.  Somehow posting this in the wake of Pete Seeger's passing seems apropos.

Eric Herman - "How Big" [Vimeo; YouTube, too, if that's your fancy]

How I Got Here: Alison Faith Levy (The Who: Tommy)

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Alison Faith Levy first came to attention of the kids music world as one of the members of the Bay Area band The Sippy Cups, which started out as a '60s-inspired band and eventually incorporated that sound into a big circus-like stage show and pulling in inspirations from the '70s and even the '80s.

The Sippys are on hiatus, but Levy has started her own solo kids music career, releasing the fine debut World of Wonder a couple years ago.  Now she's working on a stage musical based on the album, a musical she hopes will be ready for the world next year.

So perhaps it's fitting that for Levy's entry in my "How I Got Here" series, in which kindie artists talk about albums that influenced them as musicians, she talks about The Who's Tommy, which could be considered the first "rock opera."  The double album was eventually presented on stage and screen (and then stage again, this time on Broadway).  I'm guessing that Levy's light show won't be as impressive as that Broadway production from 20 years ago, but you never know...


When I was a kid, I was lucky enough to have access to an incredible record collection – my parents’. They were still in college when I was born, and were always very progressive, artsy and culturally curious– my dad played piano and had been a radio DJ, my mom was an artist. They were, and still are, huge influences in my creative life and very cool people. 

Their album collection was a treasure trove of '60s and '70s gems, which they played around the house all the time. The Beatles, Moody Blues, Donovan, Elton John, Simon and Garfunkel… but the first album that I remember becoming completely obsessed with was Tommy by The Who. This was the original studio album, not the movie soundtrack, and once I found this on my parents’ record shelf, my life would never be the same. 

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Although I had always loved music and been captivated by everything I heard on the radio and around the house, Tommy hit me in a way that I had never experienced before. I must have been in 4th or 5th grade when I found it (the album had been out for many years), and when I discovered it I was completely obsessed.

It was the first time I had heard something that was a complete piece, from start to finish – like a Broadway show, but with the visceral intensity of rock n’ roll. I could not get enough of it. The music was so complicated and beautiful, the feelings so intense – it bowled me over. I would come home from school and listen to it from start to finish, over and over, obsessing over the spooky cover with the blue latticework design and weird surreal photo collage art in the booklet. I would pore over the lyrics, trying to make sense of it and put the story together. I would bring my friends over after school to listen to it with me, and try to explain what was going on, even though the lyrical content and sophisticated subject matter were clearly beyond my scope of understanding.  When it became clear that my friends would rather play with Barbies or watch TV, I got the hint that maybe this was a little beyond what they could handle. I then knew this would be the story of my life. 

During this time, I would sing and act out songs from Tommy to entertain myself and my friends. I remember clearly that at one lunch recess, I jumped up on a bench on the playground at school and sang “Acid Queen” from start to finish for my bewildered classmates. They must have thought I was insane. I didn’t even know what it meant – I just thought the dramatic nature of the song was so amazing I couldn’t contain myself! 

When I finally saw the movie, I have to admit I was a bit disappointed. It didn’t sound right to me, the music had changed, different people were singing the songs besides my beloved Roger and Pete (and a little bit of Keith). But I grew to appreciate some aspects of it, especially Elton John as the Pinball Wizard, who was my other big hero at the time. 

Tommy ignited in me a lifelong love of the concept album. From there it was Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, Dark Side of the Moon, and Born to Run. Then moving forward into artists like David Bowie, Tom Waits, and Elvis Costello – artists with albums that felt like complete works – that take you on a journey and pull you under their spell. I have always tried to create that in my work, even as a children’s artist – to take the listener somewhere that feels intentional, and meaningful, and dreamlike. So I have Pete, Roger, John and Keith to thank for that. The Sippy Cups even performed “Christmas” from Tommy in one of our winter spectaculars several years ago, complete with a snow machine – that was a pretty amazing moment for me. Tommy still gives me goosebumps whenever I hear anything from it, and that’s how an album should be. 


In Memoriam: Pete Seeger (1919-2014)

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Pete Seeger, the American folksinger whose clear voice entertained and inspired millions, died on Monday night at the age of 94.  Seeger's grandson, Kitama Cahill-Jackson, reported that he died of natural causes at New York-Presbyterian Hospital.

I cannot hope to write an appropriate tribute to Seeger, a man with a tremendously long career who made many, many friends and lived his life with a sense of dignity and principle that I could only hope to live up to.  And, reading the obituaries that have been published since last night, most of them touch upon his work making music for families only briefly.

But with Seeger, distinctions between "kids music" and whatever you want to call music that wasn't "kids music" didn't exist.  He sang for audiences of all ages drawing upon the deep well of folk music of America and around the world.  His viewed his folk music as a way of communicating his ideals of community -- and if you were going to sing of a world where everyone was pulling with the same oar -- why wouldn't you want to reach the kids in addition to his parents?

Seeger was a prolific recording musician -- he recorded 38 albums for Folkways just between 1950 and 1964, for example.  He one one Grammy for his children's music, for 2010's Tomorrow's Children, but that was not his best work.  And while his Smithsonian Folkways work is essential, if I had to pick just one Pete Seeger family album to recommend to you, it would be his 1963 album for Columbia, Children's Concert at Town Hall (affiliate link). It's Pete at the prime of his career, a fine banjo player and his amazing voice (THAT VOICE!), all in service of bring an entire audience together in song.  It's joyous, and I wouldn't hesitate to recommend it to someone of any age.

It is not hyperbole to say that without Seeger we wouldn't quite have "kindie" as we do today.  Set aside the artists such as Dan Zanes and Elizabeth Mitchell whose debts to Seeger are much more obvious and you'd still have countless others in genres often far afield from folk who carry on the idea that music can and often should be made for listeners of all ages.  We've lost a powerful voice with Pete's passing, but I think he'd expect us to pick up the melody and pass it along.