Several of the songs have guided movement-oriented lyrics.  “Boom Boom” will get you to stand, jump, and spin between periods of sitting.  “Clap It” will have you clapping right, left, and all over the place…you’ll even clap your toe, whatever that means.  Then there’s “Dance All Day,” which asks the listener to touch different body parts, strike a pose, and, well, you can guess the rest.

The other songs will keep you moving, too.  “Big Sounds” invites zooming around like different vehicles.  “Hey Ducky” is a finger play waiting to happen (“Five little duckies/ Swimming in a row”).  And the girls even made up a dance to “Pop.”  It involves starting small, like a corn kernel, and getting a little taller with each pop.

The album is short—under 30 minutes—but it’s so fun and pleasing to listen to, we spun it three times in a row.  At my suggestion!  If you’re a parent, you know what a huge compliment that is.  This is a must of any young kid who likes to move…so just about every young kid.

Standard disclosure:  The CD was provided by Waldmania! for review.  They have neither paid nor pressured me to speak well of it.

Now, given her recent haircut, someone might believe her…well, probably not.  I’m projecting.  I usually own the names people call me, but I was never into “androgynous.”

…says the person who had a shaved head for the better part of 1996-2006.  I know, I was asking for it.  Moving on.

Rhysie was actually singing “Big Boy Now” off the album Toddlerville from Baze and His Silly Friends.  And, if you ask me, it’s the standout track on the album.  It has a charm I was having a hard time putting my finger on, so I turned to my musical better half.  (Seriously.  We agree on classic punk, and not much else.)  This is a paraphrase of our conversation:

Nate:  Spanish guitar, I guess.

Me:  It seems like it should be part of a movie with bad guys…

Nate:  It does have a spaghetti western thing going.

Me:  Yes!  I think that’s what I’m trying to say.

Nate:  Except there aren’t any horns, so I don’t know if it qualifies.

Me:  Oh.

Then he proceeds to tell me something about the “characteristics of modern rockabilly” and I proceed to nod like I have half a clue what he’s talking about.

So, even if spaghetti western isn’t quite accurate, there is definitely a gunslingers-at-the-opposite-ends-of-the-jungle-gym element at play.  “I’m a big boy now/ You better watch out.”

As a whole, the album has lots of silliness (as you might expect from the band name.)  That silliness is something all kids need and enjoy.  Another favorite track, “This Is Your Body,” rocks and rolls listeners into bouts of spontaneous dancing.  Yes!  It rolls!  If you need proof, watch the video.

To summarize the album’s merits, let me put it this way:  With no electricity and a dwindling phone battery, this was the first album we chose to listen to.

Standard disclosure:  The CD was provided by the band for review.  They have neither paid nor pressured me to speak well of it.

I never could have guessed that I’d own an album by or featuring the Radioactive Chicken Heads.  It’s easy to be dismissive of a gimmicky band…I mean, you have to wonder how crappy their music must be if they think they have to look like this.  And yet, not only have they put together a tribute album bursting with talent and variety, but they’re also responsible for my favorite song on the album.

That song is “I Wanna Be a Dog.”  Now, that title should immediately call to mind the Stooges.  (If it didn’t, then you have required listening homework this week.)  Set that aside for a second, and take a look at this song’s lyrics:

I wanna be a dog, wanna wag my tail,
Chase cars and knock over garbage cans,
Bite the man who brings the mail.

Read the rest of the lyrics here.  Next, listen to how the song originally sounded.  Finally, call the Stooges back to mind, and fuse “I Wanna be a Dog” with “I Wanna be Your Dog.”

It happened on this album, successfully.

. . .

…I’m kind of surprised you’re still reading this.  If it were me, I would have opened a new browser tab to buy the album.  Or at least the song.  But you’re probably going to want the whole album.  Here are just a few reasons:

• “Don’t Stick Your Finger Up Your Nose” in Yiddish
• “Never Cook Your Sister in a Frying Pan” with a gospel ending
• A rap version of “When Suzie Sneezed”

Not to mention the other 56 tracks on the 2-disc set.  It’s a very hodgepodge album, but the tracks manage to fit cohesively, and it’s high quality throughout.  You can read all about the artists and their contributions, and hear more samples, on Polisar’s website.

other reviews:
Children’s Entertainment Examiner | Servings from the Cereal Bowl

Standard disclosure:  The CD was provided by BLP for review.  He has neither paid nor pressured me to speak well of it.

I know that glossaries traditionally go at the end of something, but for the sake of intelligent conversation, I’m going to put one right up at the front of this post:

Readeez – Simple, brilliantly-catchy songs illustrated in video format, with the words appearing on the screen, syllable by syllable, as they are spoken or sung.  Example:

[Watch it on YouTube]

Songeez – Simple, brilliantly-catchy songs without the video component.  Example:  …er, replay the above video with your eyes closed.

The Readeez Company uses the tag line “Learning disguised as smiling,” but I wouldn’t advertise that too loudly, lest those Baby Einstein-hating nazis take up their pitchforks again. ^[1]  In my freewheeling philosophy of learning, everything is educational, but I think it’s safe to assume that Readeez are more conducive to learning than most children’s media, and they earn bonus points for not coming across as trying too hard.

See, if Readeez (Vol. 2) were going to be straightforwardly didactic, they would need use a prohibitively restrictive “easy reader” vocabulary list.  Instead, Readeez refuses to dumb itself down for its audience.  Returning to the above example, the song “Watermelon” uses the unconventional contraction kid’ll to rhyme with middle, and uses the phrase more o’ ya to rhyme with euphoria—which isn’t on any easy reader list, I might add.  Creator Michael Rachap deserves a whole lot of credit for this approach.

The release of the Songeez CD, which has songs from both volumes of Readeez, tells the world that the music is strong enough to stand on its own.  Yet, the songs never seem to break free from their visual counterparts.  The CD is packaged with a rather lovely booklet (see samples) with lyrics and illustrations that immediately call the videos to mind.  Even without the booklet, just listening to the songs reminds you of the videos.  Geraldine’s first response to hearing “How ’Bout that Cow” in the car was to bring up the fact that “we haven’t seen that one yet.”

I should mention that the girls love both Readeez, Vol. 2 and Songeez.  The songs worked their way into our daily lives within the first day of watching the DVD; we went to Livingston Park later that afternoon, and Rhys was singing “We’ll make it up the mountain/ Make it up the mountain” at every little incline on the path around the pond.  We’ve also caught each other singing “The Duck Song,” “Modes of Transportation,” and “April Fool” from time to time, and no one seems to mind a bit.

Visit the Readeez YouTube Channel, watch a bunch of videos, and see if you don’t get hooked.

Disclosure:  Review copies were provided by Michael Rachap.  He has neither paid nor pressured me to speak well of it.

Other reviews:
Dadnabbit | Out with the Kids | Zooglobble

^[1] This snarky aside is not meant to compare Baby Einstein to Readeez…it’s just a below-the-belt jab at those uptight agenda-pushers at the CCFC.  I’ll tell you how I really feel (wink) in another post sometime.

King Pajama.  Something Sweet.  2009.

I have a confession:  I’ve been trying to write this review for a month.  It’s come to an ultimatum, in the form of, “You will not write any other reviews until this one is finished.”  I’ve got a bit of a pileup going now.

Now, before you go thinking that I’ve spent the past month trying to find enough good things to say about it, that is not the problem.  I’ve listened to the album in the car many times.  I’ve listened to it at home, with and without headphones.  I listened to it in the office yesterday.  I’m listening to it now.  But I just can’t seem to find the right way to express how I feel about the album.  I mean, I could say “Hey, this is awesome—you should buy it,” but that’s not saying nearly enough.

Something Sweet is stylistically varied, but hovers around the jazz/bluesy corner of the spectrum.  These unique songs owe their success to three factors:  strong, piano-centered instrumentation; Nina Zeitlin’s rich and melodically-complex vocals; and lyrics that put a surprisingly fun spin on ordinary topics like food and clothing.  Each of the ten tracks on the 30-minute album is consistently engaging and worthy of repeated listening.

Highlights:

• “Some Pieces” – I love how the characters learn about themselves.  Pluto gets a note taped on his door about the declassification.  Tomato’s doctor tells her she’s a fruit.  Platypus’s bird friends talk behind her back about how she’s a mammal, poor girl.  It’s not a sad song though; it’s matter-of-fact.  Because that’s life: “There’s an exception for every single rule/ and some pieces just don’t seem to fit.”
• “Time Goes” – A sweet and moving song about the passage of time.  I can picture myself singing it to the girls from the doorway of their room as they fall asleep, the way my mom would sing “Edelweiss” or some other song from The Sound of Music to me.  Er, I could see that happening if I could sing, that is. ^[1]
• “What’s Going On?” – This says it all:
  

  “In New Orleans I met a Shetland pony
  Brought him home and he ate my bologna
  Other lunch meats started disappearing
  But in the end I think I found him endearing”

N.B.  I’m not the only one who thinks highly of Something Sweet.  The album earned a Parents’ Choice Award, and wound up on both the Time Out New York Kids and NPR best of 2009 lists.  Find out more at the King Pajama website.

Other reviews:
Boston Children’s Music | Out with the Kids

^[1]  Or, maybe it could be my “Toora Loora Loora.”  As my grandfather did, I could take my future grandchildren into my lap after they’ve been in the car for 8 hours, and sing it over and over until their backsides are numb!  Point is, it’s a potential heirloom song.

Disclosure:  Review copy provided by King Pajama.  They have neither paid nor pressured me to speak well of it.

If I were clever, I’d nonchalantly segue into the fact that I was a judge this year…   (stares at nails) “Oh, I suppose that is my name on the list under judges…” (coughs)  …but I’m not clever, so I’ll just tell you how excited and honored I was that Stefan Shepherd, Bill Childs, and Gwyneth Butera asked me to submit my favorites.

So, what was on my best-of list for the year?  I’ll tell you, with a little bit of a qualifier:  These are what I consider the top-quality children’s/family albums on the year.  They aren’t my personal favorites—I’m saving that list for a big reveal sometime in December.

1. Field Trip by Recess Monkey (F&K #3)
2. Dizzy by Lunch Money (F&K #2)
3. Here Comes Science by They Might Be Giants (F&K #1)
4. Here I Am! by Caspar Babypants (F&K honorable mention)
5. Family Time by Ziggy Marley (F&K #4/tie)
6. Dragonfly by Johnny Bregar (F&K honorable mention)
7. Beautiful World by Dog on Fleas (F&K honorable mention)
8. Happy Accidents by Billy Jonas (F&K #8)
9. My Trampoline by Peter Himmelman (F&K #4/tie)
10. We Are the Not-Its! by the Not-Its (F&K #11)

Those top three, especially, are must haves for every collection.  They’d make excellent holiday gifts, too.  Just sayin’.

My first response to the Not-Its!’s debut album was mock annoyance.  This was before I’d ever heard it.  Before it was released, even.  See, in May, Zooglobble published the album art and a track list.  Oh, look!  A song called “Let’s Birthday”!  This was very nearly a fortuitous find for me, since I was compiling a birthday playlist for my party on June 11th.  Oh, what’s that?  The CD release date was planned for June 19th?

Crap.

But, I’m happy to say I’ve gotten over my fake grudge.  We very much like this album, to the point where I want to tweak my blog’s color scheme to better coordinate with its pink and gray cover.  How’s that for a compliment?

The album opens with a theme song, which raised a question for me:  Does a band really need a theme song?  I have no official answer, but it’s moot because, in this case, the theme rocks.  And not just in the “it’s awesome” way.  In fact, the whole album capital-r Rocks.  There is just enough distortion, and a bit of bite, plus the lyrics scale is tipped toward fun over life lessons.  It’s the album all the aging-Hipster parents will be spinning, ^[1]  or it should be.

other reviews:
Cool Mom Picks | Out with the Kids | Zooglobble

^[1]  Yes.  Spinning.  I don’t plan on working that out of my vocabulary any time soon, regardless of technological advances.  At least when it comes to whole-album listening.

Nate:  He sounds like his dad.

Me:  Yeah.  But I guess there were people who didn’t know he existed before this album.

Nate:  Really?

Me:  Apparently.  According to blog comments, anyway.  (mock surprise)  “I didn’t know Bob Marley had a son!  …who makes music!” ^[1]

Nate:  I mean, he was around a lot in the 90s.  Not that I can remember any of his songs…

Me:  Um…yeah.

Ziggy Marley, welcome to your moment.  Your moment in this decade, I mean.  Wait, he’s been making competent-yet-unspectacular music all this time?  Okay then…  Ziggy Marley, welcome to your moment to shine in this decade.  Does that work for everyone?  Anyone?

This is a great album that grew on me with each listen.  It’s not a kids’ album.  As you, clever reader, may have gathered from the title, it’s of the Dan Zanes family music variety.  In a Boston Globe inverview, Marley actually credits Zanes for changing his view of music for kids and families.  He says, “It’s not about lollipops and ice cream or being silly and goofy.  It’s about family and joining in the music together as a family.”

Unfortunately, his remarks in the interview perpetuate the all-too-common, typically under-informed, cringe-worthy dismissal of all music created with kids as the main audience.  But we won’t hold it against him.  I guess.

Highlights:  While there are noteworthy contributors on some of the tracks (Toots Hibbert, Willie Nelson, and Paul Simon to name a few), those aren’t the songs that impress me most.

• “Family Time” – The opener is the strongest track, but not in a top-heavy sort of way; the rest of the album is not to be outweighed.  It’s more of a tone-setter.  Irie, unifying, celebratory.  No smoking required.  Oh, and his daughter Judah sings adorably on the track.
• “Ziggy Says” – It’s Simon says without the gotcha! aspect, although the pace is such that you’d practically have to have the song memorized to play along.  When this track was playing, Nate said, “I kind of like this.” That is a sizeable compliment, coming from him.
• “ABC” – An abecedarian repurposing of “Bend Down Low.”  U, V, and W, for example, stand for unity, variety, and the world.  And Z…well, I don’t want to spoil it.

Weak spots:  The last two tracks, narrated by Jamie Lee Curtis, don’t work for me.  I understand including Marley’s poem, “My Helping Hands,” but wouldn’t it be a better fit if it was…I don’t know…turned into a song?  And regardless of how much it fits with the tone and messages of the album, having Curtis read Is There Really a Human Race? is just plain out of place.

Let’s not end on that note, though, because the album is really good.  If you want to explore the contemporary incarnation of reggae with your kids, this is it. ^[2]

other reviews:
About.com Children’s Music | Dadnabbit

^[1] Of course, he had a few other kids, but let’s leave it at that.

^[2] If you want to go for more classic reggae, whatever you do, don’t get Reggae for Kids (unless you prefer “reggaefied kids [sic] classics” to originals with kid appeal).  After screen-listening to half of it, I decided it would be more productive to get a copy of Legend.  Another possibility might be Putumayo’s Reggae Playground, but I haven’t heard it personally.

Ahem.  October is going to push-to-get-CDs-reviewed month.  How many CDs do I have to review?  Well, it depends if I’m going to include a couple late 2008 releases, but…at least twenty.

20!

I’ve never been good at complex equations involving optimism and reality, so I won’t comment as to whether I think I can write that many reviews in one month.  But, if I make some headway now, maybe I can have it done by the end of the year.

So the real question is, where to start?  Do I sort by release date?  Go alphabetical?  Start with the favorites and go down hill?  Start with the lukewarm and go uphill?  Names in a hat?  Should I give preference to the ones that were sent to me to review?  (N.B., I don’t have any queued up that I’ve committed to review, but I do have that I’ll-get-to-it-eventually-if-I-can-find-nice-things-to-say-about-it policy.)

I decided to list them arbitrarily as they crossed my mind, then use a random number generator to shake it up.  Fortunately, what’s been sent to me for review is toward the top, so I feel pretty comfortable with the arrangement.

Happy October!  You’ll hear from me sooooooon…

Milkshake.  Great Day.  2009.

“Hey, it’s Milkshake!”  That was, indeed, my highly intelligent first thought listening to this album.  The statement is a little intense, so let me break it down for you:  a strong delivery from a known entity.  The lyrics have matured to more complex themes, and while the music has also matured, it’s every bit as upbeat, optimistic, and rocking.

Happiness, feeling good, and self-esteem are common themes in many of the songs on the album, with songs like “Statue of Me” (about individuality and potential), “You Did It” (pride in a job well-done), and “Dance in the Sun” (with Beach Boys-style harmonies).  It’s not all smiles, though; for example, the song “Enemies” (which I think should be called “Frenemies”) is about the ups and downs of friendship. 

Several of the songs have a 90s alt rock feel to them, whatever that means.  Speaking of, I blame Jeff at Out with the Kids for making me think of the Spin Doctors when I hear “Happy Place.”  It’s still a decent feel-good song for one of those if-one-more-thing-goes-wrong-I’m-going-to-cry days.  I mean, it probably won’t help you come to terms with a loved one’s terminal cancer, but waking up on the wrong side of the bed?  All over that.

Compared to the rest of the album, I’m not very much into the song “Want It.”  It’s kind of like an ode to materialism.  You could argue that there’s a message about wants v. needs in there, but it’s drowned out by the “Gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme it now!” lines.  I don’t feel threatened by the song, though, nor do I especially dislike it.  So, I recommend the album without reservation.  But go see for yourself:  you can listen to some of the songs on the Milkshake website.

Highlights:

• “When I’m Old” – A love song to a grandmother, rivaling Frances England’s “Fast Train to Grandma’s” for that coveted role of being the song you record on one those annoying, music-playing greeting cards for Grandparents’s Day.  Just don’t play it for the grandmother who would prefer not to be called “old.”
• “Travel Far” – This song sounds like people should be dancing to it on a cruise commercial.  That’s supposed to be a compliment, by the way.  At least it would make more sense than using “Lust for Life”—out of context much?

Fun fact:  the oldest surviving music review on this blog was of Milkshake’s Play!

Standard disclosure:  The CD was provided by Waldmania! for review. They have neither paid nor pressured me to speak well of it.

other reviews:
Dadnabbit | Nugget Island | Out with the Kids