Better Late Than Never: 2016 Children's Grammy Nominee Reviews

One of the embarrassing things about writing about the nominees for the 59th Annual Grammy Award for Best Children's Album is that even though I did so in late January 2017, many months after the 5 nominated albums were released, I had only reviewed one of the 5 nominees, Frances England's Explorer of the World.

So while I'm transitioning out of more intensive review mode into something... else, I did want to make sure I added a few words about each of these nominees.

As I went back and listened to these albums, or at least these following four albums, I was struck by the idea that these albums weren't necessarily albums that took incredible creative leaps beyond what the artists had done before. Instead, these albums are good examples of the type of music some of kindie's most popular and consistent artists have to offer.

Let's start with the act that's been the most prolific for the longest time, Seattle trio Recess Monkey. The biggest -- and really only -- novelty of Novelties, the band's 13th (!) album, is the fact that it was released on Amazon Music and can only be purchased or streamed there. Aside from that, it's another solid collection of pop-rock songs pitched at your favorite ever-so-slightly snarky 7-year-old. Yes, the song "Sweaty Yeti" is every bit as silly as that title might suggest. Compared to other albums of theirs like Desert Island Disc, Novelties dials up the clown prince factor, and dials down the emotional factor which, while never prevalent, sometimes played a supporting role. But this is immediately identifiable as a Recess Monkey album and given the large role the band has played in encouraging other kindie musicians and their consistency (13 albums in, like, 12 years), the Grammy nomination was deserved.

Next we have Press Play, from New York's Brady Rymer and the Little Band That Could. If Recess Monkey's calling card has been silliness and high energy, Rymer's has been emotionally open roots rock, and he's been offering it for even longer than Recess Monkey, albeit at not quite as frenetic a pace. (Press Play is Rymer's eighth album for families, dating back to the year 2000.) Rymer sings unironically about the virtues of trying new things, being kind, and the blessings of family. They're the kind of sentiments that, stripped of Rymer's energetic singing and his harmony-filled Little Band That Could, could feel cheesy or trite. But Rymer's music has always managed to move past that and make those valuable notions on tracks like the country-tinged "Dress in Blue" and the horn-and-organ-aided "Chain Reaction" fun to dance to. Rymer earned another Grammy nomination for Press Play, and it's because his music usually goes down as comfortable as a plate of burger and fries in the hometown diner the band is posing in an album photo.

The only one of this year's nominees who had previously won a Grammy (for Can You Canoe?), The Okee Dokee Brothers, came back with the final album in their three-part "Adventure Album series," Saddle Up. As you can probably guess from the title, after traveling down the Mississippi River and up the Appalachian Trail, this time the duo went out west, spending a month on horseback in June 2015. So there's more of a cowboy theme to their music, though I wouldn't describe this album as the boys going full Riders in the Sky. As with the album's two predecessors, this album gently weaves a few more traditional songs (such as "Ragtime Cowboy Joe") into the originals. One of the niftiest tracks is "Sister Moon and Brother Sun," which features Navajo lyrics on a story with Native American roots -- its mere presence on a "Western" album is, if not groundbreaking, at least noteworthy for its relative rarity. The album features a slick DVD, and while the boys didn't earn another Grammy for this one, I think the three Adventure albums are definitely one of the most critically (and, comparatively, commercially) successful trio of kids' albums of the 21st century. Fans of the Okee Dokee Brothers would likely have taken this just as much to heart as their two previous albums.

Last on this list of reviews is the actual Grammy winner this year, Secret Agent 23 Skidoo, a previous nominee and first-time winner for Infinity Plus One. Skidoo continues to be the most vibrant practitioner of hip-hop for the younger set -- nobody else is as consistently intricate lyrically and musically. I don't think Infinity Plus One is quite as... weird as its predecessor The Perfect Quirk, but it is far out, man. Literally. Because as you might guess from the album art, Skidoo's got a serious deep space vibe going on here. A song like "Pillowfight Pillowfort" seems in the distant past at this point. I'd say the whole album is more space-inspired than space-themed (the killer track "Secret Superhero" isn't really about space, for example), but in more than a couple places he proves to be a huge Carl Sagan fan.

As always, one of the secret weapons of Secret Agent 23 Skidoo albums' high repeat listenability is the depth of the musical arrangements. You might hear "hip hop" in terms of the album description and think there's no connection with, say, Brady Rymer's roots-rock, but tracks like "Young Soul" and "Long Days & Short Years" would not sound out of place at all on Rymer's album. (Actually, can we get a Skidoo/Rymer collaboration? Thanks in advance.) Infinity Plus One is a very solid collection of songs targeted more at the upper elementary school crowd, and while I think any of Skidoo's albums are a worthy entry point to his work for your family, this newly Grammy-crowned work is definitely an excellent place to start. I'd recommend all these albums -- hopefully I've given enough clues to suggest which might be most appropriate if you're entirely new to kids music.

Very finally, I would be remiss if I didn't re-remind you of the review I did for Frances England's Explorer of the World, the other album nominated in this category. I described it as "more experimental than most kids music," and if the four albums above are more refinements of the artists' individual artistic paths, I think Explorer shows off England's exploration (appropriately enough) of new paths, particularly in the music arrangements. Tracks like "City Don't Sleep" feature sonic collages featuring everything but (and probably including) the kitchen sink. This album was every bit as worthy a Grammy nominee as the four albums above, and I just didn't want you to forget about it as you were considering the albums above.

Review: Beehives and Bedheads - Duke Otherwise

Duke Otherwise Beehives and Bedheads album cover

If you're going to give yourself a stage name of "Duke Otherwise," you'd better not go halfway. No, I expect the full arch distance of royalty, mixed up with an oddity that recollects Bowie (David) and Burton (Tim).

Thankfully, Duke Otherwise, AKA Noah Reimer, gives each song on his brand new Beehives and Bedheads the full flourish, and then some. Looking for an album that provides guidance on moving through early childhood life transitions? Move along, then, because this album kicks off with a song called “Dancing Pig” that answers the question, “What would a Tom Waits song about a prancing porcine sound like?,” and never really gets any less weird from there. The zippy “What Kind of Hairdo Do You Do?” crams in at least dozen hair-related cultural references ranging from Medusa to Kid and Play. “Nose and Ears” uses a jazzy clarinet tune to accompany a consideration of the implications of living to the age of one thousand while your nose and ears never stop growing.

I could go on describing odd scenarios out of Shel Silverstein and or perhaps Roald Dahl in gentler moments, or waste many electrons jotting down the nifty wordplay on many tracks. If it sounds a bit like Zak Morgan, then that may be a case of affinity as Morgan makes appearances on a handful of tracks. On and on the album careens, winding up with the next-to-last track “Kitty Wampus,” about a bus driver with an exceedingly poor sense of direction and featuring at the end a chorus of kids pleading, “Are we there yet, are we there yet?...” And, then after all the flights of fancy, the album gently lands with “Whistle Like Bird,” an ode to musician and well-known whistler Andrew Bird (with Morgan doing his best Andrew Bird whistling impersonation).

The album will most tickle the fancies of kids ages 5 through 9. Clocking in at about 32 minutes in length, the twelve tracks breeze by.

I am all for a broad range of kids music -- straight-ahead celebratory pop, songs that explore emotional depths, and even though I don’t always talk about it, even music that helps literally learn things. But part of that should also include imagination and skewed viewpoints that take the young listener out of the everyday. Beehives and Bedheads does that nearly perfectly. Highly recommended.

Note: I received a copy of this album for possible review.

Itty-Bitty Review: On the Bright Side - The Bazillions

The Bazillions - On the Bright Side album cover

Minneapolis band The Bazillions have an ear for power-pop hooks. Or, like, 23 ears, because each album of theirs has more hooks than one ear could possibly handle -- even one of those punks' ears with safety pins all over.

Their third album, the recently-released On the Bright Side, does not stint on the hooks. "Superhero Rock Band," which kicks off the album, is like one of those movie pitches ("They're superheroes from DC and Marvel... but they play in a band!") that is so high-concept that song quality would scarcely seem to matter, but luckily for the power-pop enthusiast in the family, it's got crunchy guitars and a catchy singalong chorus, too. That's followed by "Family Tree," a roots-pop song celebrating, well, family -- along with the album closer "Sons and Daughters," it's the first I've really heard the band try for something more emotional.

Of course, at this point, it wouldn't be a Bazillions album without several educational songs, including the jangly "Use a Contraction," the shimmering "Ed (Been There, Done That)," and their first science-related tune, "Water Cycle." Longtime readers will know my general antipathy towards songs that have such an explicit educational bias unless the melodies and lyrics are really tight, but listen to the chorus for "Favorite Book," which is really just a reading-positive song, and tell me it isn't precisely constructed for maximum earworm.

The 37-minute album is most appropriate for kids ages 5 through 10; you can hear three of the tracks from the album here. As with their previous albums, On the Bright Side includes a number of power-pop and jangle-pop melodies that stand up to repeated spins, regardless of whether you need to learn some 2nd grade concept. Whatever educational value they have (and is enhanced by their catchiness) is just a nice bonus. Definitely recommended.

Note: I received a copy of the album for possible review.

Video: "Q and U" - The Bazillions

Quick - I have a question for you.

Has there ever been a band quite as educationally questioning as the Bazillions?

Y'know? Because this is a new video for "Q and U," off their album On The Bright Side? Get it?

Forget this, then. I'm quitting.

The Bazillions - "Q and U" [YouTube]

How I Got Here: Adam Marshall, The Bazillions ("Cake" by the Trash Can Sinatras)

Adam and Kristin Marshall holding copies of the Trash Can Sinatras album "Cake"

Adam Marshall and Kristin Marshall are not only the driving forces behind the Minnesota kindie-power-pop band The Bazillions, they're also married.

Now, that's not the typical way I'd introduce an essay for "How I Got Here," the series where kids musicians write about influential music.

But this essay is definitely not your typical "How I Got Here" essay. Yes, Adam Marshall talks about the influence of the debut full-length from the Scottish band Trash Can Sinatras on life as a music fan and musician, but this is one of those times when the phrase "life-changing album" literally applies.

I was a theatre major in college. So after graduation, like many young actors, I migrated to the Big Apple to pursue my dream. It wasn’t long before I found success … in the food service industry. The year was 1989, I was fresh out of undergraduate school, and New York City was my new home – Astoria, Queens to be exact. I moved in with my best friend Rob, and we shared a nice little two-bedroom apartment.

Rob and I spent a great deal of time listening to music and eating pizza from Tony's Pizza, which was around the corner. Two bucks for a slice and a can of soda. We were poor, but we were living the dream. Rob was/is a great actor with a Sinatra-like baritone voice. So it wasn't long before he got cast in a national tour that lasted for much of the spring and summer of 1990. I was certainly happy for Rob, but I was sad to see him go because now I was alone in the Big Apple, which can be pretty lonely.

When I wasn’t waiting tables, I spent the days listening to music, playing the guitar, writing songs and occasionally pursuing acting. The highlight of each week was Sunday night at midnight: 120 Minutes on MTV. This was the place to discover the best new music. 120 Minutes was a goldmine for me. I have always been interested in finding music that is off the beaten path. To this day, I go out, and I dig through bins of records looking for gems that are basically unknown, like an archeologist unearthing his latest discovery.

So in the spring of 1990 I was diligently watching 120 Minutes with a yellow legal pad in hand, writing down artists and songs that piqued my interest. I remember hearing G.W. McClennan's “Easy Come Easy Go” and “There She Goes” by The La’s. I heard The Sundays, John Wesley Harding, Robyn Hitchcock… It was the music that made that show so great, and I watched it every Sunday night. A music snob’s dream come true.

One Sunday night I heard a song by a Scottish band called the Trash Can Sinatras. I had never heard of them before. The song was called “Only Tongue Can Tell” from an oddly titled album called Cake. It was a pretty nice song with a sweet melody, a bouncy beat and a very catchy chorus: my kind of song. It sounded kind of like Aztec Camera or the Housemartins or the Smiths. And in a way it didn’t sound like those bands at all. It was something completely its own. I wrote the band name and song in my yellow legal pad.

The next day I went to my small, local Astoria CD store, a little hole in the wall place with posters on the wall and a fairly limited selection. I flipped through the used CDs as usual and almost immediately I came across Cake. “Well that’s weird,” I thought. I had never heard of this band until several hours ago, and here they are all the way from Scotland in Astoria, Queens. What are the chances of that? Maybe it’s a sign. Certainly, reason enough to buy it.

I brought it home to the apartment and I popped it in the CD player. I listened to it from beginning to end. When it was finished I played it again. There was the song I had heard on 120 Minutes, but there were nine other songs, too. Songs with strange titles like “Thrupenny Tears,” “Circling The Circumference,” and “Obscurity Knocks.” There was plenty of strumming acoustic guitars, arpeggiated electric guitars augmented with occasional string sections. There was so much to listen to that it didn’t matter that it was almost impossible to decipher the lyrics through singer Frank Reader’s thick Scottish accent. By the end of the second time through I was hooked. This was amazing music!

I spent all of the summer of 1990 listening to this CD. I would play it loud. It would fill the apartment and leak out the windows and doors. It was as if I needed to hear this music every day. It was the only music I would listen to. It was my soundtrack for the summer.

Three years later, the Trash Can Sinatras released their second album, I’ve Seen Everything. Amazingly, it was the equal of Cake. I went to see them at The Limelight in 1993. They did not disappoint. They had become my favorite band.

By 1994, I was actually getting closer to becoming a working actor. Like Rob, much of my work was out of town. In November of that year, I went to Omaha, Nebraska for rehearsals of a touring production of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. I was cast as Young Scrooge. I spent most of the rehearsal process working with the actress who was cast opposite me. During a break from rehearsals I found myself sitting in the theatre seats of the Omaha Playhouse several rows behind the young actress who played the oldest Cratchit daughter, Martha, and the child actor who played Peter Cratchit. They were having a casual conversation. I could tell that the actress was trying to get to know the young actor, probably to strengthen the family bond they were portraying on the stage. She asked him what kind of music he liked. I don’t remember his response, but I suppose it was a typical listing of groups a twelve-year-old from 1994 would like.

He then asked her what kind of music she liked. Her reply was, “Oh, you probably wouldn’t know any of the bands that I like.” I figured that like most musical theatre actors her tastes would be based around Sondheim, Kander & Ebb, and the like. The young actor pressed on, “Really, I want to know, what kind of music do you like?”

At this point I was pretty interested too. I leaned in a little closer to hear her response. She said, “All right. You’re not going to know them, but I’ll tell you anyway.” The first band that she mentioned was the Trash Can Sinatras. WHAT!? What did she say? Did she say the Trash Can Sinatras? No way! She also mentioned The Jayhawks and Aztec Camera! I bounded over the rows of seats between us and elbowed the young actor out of the way. Slightly winded from hurdling over the seats, I told her I had never known anyone whose favorite bands were the ones she had just mentioned.

We spent the rest of the rehearsals talking about music, films and life. Once the tour hit the road, we would sit together on the tour bus and share music with each other. We bought one of those headphone audio adapters that allow you to plug two headphones into one portable CD player. We listened to all kinds of music, and of course we listened to Cake by the Trash Can Sinatras, the band that brought us together. This was love.

Adam Marshall and Kristin Marshall in 1994

Her name was Kristin, and soon we were singing and writing songs together. We moved to Minneapolis in 1997. In November of 1999 we were married. Eventually all of our singing and songwriting led us to The Bazillions. The Trash Can Sinatras are there when we write and record. You can hear their influence on many of our songs. The opening guitar to “Lookout Man” always reminds me of their song “Obscurity Knocks.” “Similes & Metaphors,” “Rainy Day Clubhouse,” “Sons & Daughters” all feel like distant cousins of their songs.

Kristin and I still listen to the Trash Can Sinatras. We’ve gone to see them live together. We have as much of their music as you could collect. The band that brought us together is gladly still making music, still playing shows, and I’m sure, still bringing people together.

Photo credit of Adam and Kristin w/ albums: Naomi Marshall

Interview: Adam Levy (Bunny Clogs)

Adam Levy made his first foray into the world of kids music with his band Bunny Clogs way back in late 2008 with the album More! More! More!. (That band name, by the way? It's a pun on Levy's primary musical outlet, his band The Honeydogs.) That debut album had a distinctive, eclectic sound and some out-of-nowhere lyrics and musical tidbits, aided no doubt by the fact that Levy created the album with assistance from his two daughters, grade schoolers at the time.

Fast-forward six years or so. Levy's daughters are in or approaching high school, and the follow-up album I'd never expected would happen showed up. Whales Can't Whistle is maybe a little more streamlined, slightly poppier than its predecessor, but nobody would ever mistake the new album for bland, cookie-cutter music.

Levy recently sent some thoughts via e-mail about the latest album, musical parenting memories, and the good and bad of making an album (and playing live) with your kids.

Zooglobble: What are your first musical memories (growing up)?

Adam Levy: My parents didn't have a big record collection... but what they had got played a lot. I used to dance/march around the house with a Monkees ukelele guitar, air uke-ing to Herb Alpert and The Tijuana Brass's "Going Places." My hip Aunt Judy brought Rubber Soul to my folks in 1967. That got major air time for a few years.

What are your first parenting musical memories?

Big sister Esther was breach in her mom's stomach. We put Bach cello preludes on headphones to mom's belly for a few days and she flipped around... the girls' mom and I listened to music constantly. Lots of old funk and soul. I remember my girls going bananas for Fountains of Wayne's "Red Dragon Tattoo."

How did the first Bunny Clogs album come about? What inspired you to make that album?

I had just gotten my first ProTools studio rig set up at home in 2003. Esther would have been about 4 and Ava Bella 2. I would try to entertain the girls as I was figuring out the equipment and would make these danceable, amusing kids' songs. The girls would chime and sing and giggle and I'd record everything and made it a family affair. I kept writing these songs in the midst of, and as a break from, more "serious" musical endeavors. Friends would come over with kids for dinner and I'd play them the songs and folks would laugh and the kids would jump around like little squirmies. After a while I just thought, "maybe I have something" -- the songs were more absurdist, dance-beat and adult-friendly, less acoustic-folky than most kids' music. It alwasy took a back seat to my main songwriting muse, The Honeydogs... but eventually I just resolved to finish it and put it out in 2009.

What led you to make Whales Can't Whistle an animal kingdom-themed album?

We made a food-related record for the first one. I always incorporate the household characters and stories and silly phrases we used into the music. We are very into animals at our house and have been since the girls were small. I find it easier to write when I create some parameters and goals.

Your daughters were actively involved in making this new album -- what was their biggest contribution? Was Isaac's participation anticipated, or more of a surprise?

The girls are singing all over the record. Ava Bella (14) even recorded herself in some cases! She also designed the cover art. Isaac's participation was a necessity. He's 12 and a natural. He plays like an adult. Amazing.

What was it like having your daughters participate so much in what you do as a career? I'm assuming it was lots of fun, but did it also lead to tensions at times?

It's amazing. We've been performing publicly together since they were about 10 (Esther) and 8 (Ava Bella). Sometimes I have to encourage them to perform by increasing pay... sometimes they are not up for it. They tease me a lot. I get back at them by being a complete dork on stage. Ava Bella who is 14 now has expressed more interest in music than her big sister. I have loved watching her do musical things that are not with family.

You wear many different musical hats -- what particular musical itch does Bunny Clogs let you scratch?

Bunny Clogs fills a need to simply have fun making music and sharing it with my own children. Much of my music is conceptual, cerebral and sometimes deals with serious subjects. After I lost my son in 2012, the need to find joy in the midst of great grief and life-reassessment became very necessary. Last summer the girls spent a couple months leisurely making the record. We had so much fun.

What 3 (or 1 or 5) "not-for-kids" albums (from any artist) did your kids absolutely groove to growing up?

As I mentioned, the house the girls grew up in oozed music... all of The Beatles stuff. They have fond memories of Burt Bacharach's Butch Cassidy soundtrack. The Jackson 5.

What's next for Bunny Clogs (and you)?

I'd love to do some kind of animated film [and/or] a book. Depending on the girl's energy, perhaps more touring. As mentioned I'm ready to be Reuben Kincaid to Ava Bella's musical projects.

Photos by Youa Vang.