Dad Jokes (Billy Kelly's "My First Comedy Album")

Kids music is filled with funny people, probably because the ability to make kids laugh is vital to survival in dealing with kids all day long. (Also probably because the ability to make yourself laugh is also vital to survival in dealing with kids all day long.) But in a world of funny people, only one person has earned the title Funniest Person in Kids Music, and that would be Billy Kelly.

Thank You for Joining the Happy Club cover

From the very first track of his very first album for kids ("This Is the First Song" off of 2009's Thank You for Joining the Happy Club), Kelly has amused listeners with his deadpan humor and occasionally meta-fictional takedowns of songwriting tropes. Over time his humor has swerved a bit from earnest to dark (something which he readily admits), and his albums have contained varying amounts of humorous and non-humorous material.

Is it possible to chart his albums on a matrix with those two axes? Yes. Will I do that for you here? No. Instead, I will use words in lieu of graphs, even though I love myself some graphs. (I honestly do.)

Is This Some Sort of Joke?, his second and most comedy-heavy musical album, required serious attention to process all the levels of humor being laid on the listener's plate. It was also in parts his darkest album (comparatively speaking -- it's still kids music) as it featured not one but two songs about the potential end of the planet and the human race.

Kelly's third album The Family Garden was his most earnest, a correction, or possibly overcorrection, to the joke-filled and dark approach on Joke?. It's not devoid of humor, but with songs celebrating gardens, American flags, and pen pals ("We Could Be Pen Pals," which featured Molly Ledford), it was definitely a detour from what Kelly's fans -- at least this one -- had grown accustomed to based on his previous two albums. The album does, however, underscore Kelly's basically optimistic nature, a nature that, while present on the first two albums (he sang a song with the Monkees' Davy Jones about the joy of getting a new haircut, after all, on Joke?), could be buried under the jokes and cleverness.

For my tastes, I think the two albums that followed -- 2013's Again! and his Grammy-nominated effort with Molly Ledford from the band Lunch Money, the 2015 album Trees -- were probably the high points thus far of his output. With Again!, Kelly melds the silly ("Ode to Butter") with the sweet ("There's Nothing Like My Town"), with nothing too mend-bending, except for "Don't Tell Me That I Don't Know What I Know (When You Know That You Don't Know What I Know That I Know)," which I'm still trying to work through the logic of.

And the universally-loved Trees finds Kelly's silly songs like "The National Tree of England" and "(It's Just a) Dumb Ol' Stick" nestled in amongst Ledford's earnest and tender rockers. Ledford, in fact, basically inserted herself into the album after Kelly had been talking about recording such an album for years. And it's amusing to hear Ledford's drier wit make Kelly laugh, like on the gentle putdown Ledford uses on "Coniferous Trees," a joke that it takes Kelly 4 or 5 seconds to hear ("I just got that," he chuckles while trying to continue to sing his verse.)

From there, Kelly's 2016 Welp (oh, that title -- that's a dad word, for sure) covers the same tonal ground that Again! covered, perhaps a little more comedic, and with slightly less of a poppy sound. The narrators on tracks like "If I Could Have Your Attention," "My First Protest Song," and "You Remember Steve," which lead off the album, sound like clueless buffoons, which isn't necessarily an approach your hear on a lot of kids music -- you hear buffoons, sure, but they're rarely the ones singing the music. But of course he does have earnest tracks, like "Might It Be Love?" (though I'll admit to probably preferring an earlier, robot-attacking, self-sabotaged attempt at the track).

But on his most recent album, Kelly decides to go all in with the comedy and go where no kids' musician has gone before -- the standup comedy club. The album titled My First Comedy Album is a misnomer, because most of his albums have been comedic at their core, but it is his first attempt at recording a show in a comedy club. (With a two juice-box minimum? Unclear.)

Billy Kelly is hardly the only artist to provide a healthy dose of humor on their albums for the single-digit set. Recess Monkey, for example, have been on the jokier end of the musical spectrum, and wrote an entire song ("Knocktopus") revolving around the first jokes most preschoolers learn -- knock-knock jokes. Josh and the Jamtones did an entire album called Bear Hunt that was essentially a long set of riffs loosely connected by songs that eventually became a movie, as if one of those two-guys-talking-in-front-of-a-microphone podcasts became an animated production. The latest Michael and the Rockness Monsters album Funny Faces features a handful of silly songs that harken back to the era of novelty songs. Cory Cullinan and Richard Perlmutter use comedy to carve an entrance for kids into classical music. And Eric Herman did an entire sketch and music comedy album titled The Incredibly Spaced-Out Adventures of Jupiter Jackson.

One thing you might notice scanning down that list is that it's made up entirely of males. And my perception is that guys tend to be given more leeway to do silly things in kids music, which means that female artists like Joanie Leeds, Sirius-XM's/Wow in the World's Mindy Thomas, or the much-missed-in-kindie Ashley Albert of The Jimmies who traffic in broader humor like their male counterparts above are more the exception. (And women such as Molly Ledford who use humor sometimes more subtly are often overlooked.) It's a little disappointing, to be sure.

Both lists above also highlight the fact that comedy crafted specifically for kids is pretty hard to find. Find someone to animate your jokes and craft a 6-, 11-, or 22-minute story around them, and you too can get your own development deal. But sketch comedy for kids, especially audio-only sketch comedy for kids, is reaaally hard to find. As best I can tell, the only folks doing that full-time are The Listies, who are based in Australia, so even though they tour a lot, it's probably too much to expect that they just criss-cross the United States week after week. (Note: I very much recommend listening to The Listies. Maybe they'll change their minds about the States.)

Into this void, then, jumps Billy Kelly, father of two, purveyor of dad jokes, whose puns earn groans from the audience (when was the last time you heard that on a comedy album?). And Kelly certainly does take a few opportunities to speak directly to the kids who are sitting in his mixed age audience, noting that he got them into the [comedy] club and noting that kids do, in fact, catch a break. Like, a lot.

But for the most part, Kelly trains his eye on more absurdist topics, like deciding to forego bird-watching for bird watcher-watching.

He eschews the often dense wordplay and allusion-filled approach of his music for a more laid-back take, like Steven Wright with a higher-pitched voice. (No complaints about airplane food or relationship woes, thankfully.) Kelly plays with the conventions of standup, humor which might work a little better with the adults who know when he's slightly subverting the form. And some bits like "Auditordium" start out sounding like they're just mistakes until you realize that they're well-plotted jokes.

Only once does he break down and turn to music as a frame for his comedy, and that's on the cut called "Dictionary." It's actually a recycled bit from Welp. The music isn't necessary at all for the basic structure of the jokes, though the structure of the song -- whereby the spoken jokes essentially fill the role of verses, and the wordless do-do-do-dooooos the chorus -- probably helps the listener process the jokes themselves, which require a little thinking.

The whole album requires a little thinking, actually. While there are definitely some simpler jokes on the album, this is not something that will amuse your kindergartener. Rather, it requires a level of attention and smarts that may even be out of the range of your second-grader. Unlike the Listies, Kelly offers no fart jokes. This is neither good nor bad, just noting that fart jokes are the fastest method known to science for getting a second-grader, especially a boy, to laugh. In some ways, My First... is most reminiscent of Is This Some Sort of Joke?, his most comedic album up 'til now and the one that needed the highest level of listener attention, though the humor is lighter in tone on this new album.

There are a ton of jokes on the 45-minute-long My First Comedy Album and with it Billy Kelly safely retains his title of Funniest Person in Kids Music, unlikely to give it up until he chooses to retire as GOAT. I hope that there's a second album of standup or pure comedy from him (current odds of him naming it My Second Comedy Album: 50/50?). But I like what happens when he works with artists like Ledford who pushed back on "Coniferous Trees" or with other musicians generally. So I also hope he continues working with others to produce funny stuff as well, because I think that feedback makes the humor sharper. Dad jokes work even better if there's an occasional mom or group of dads to offer up some eye rolls... or make an even worse dad joke. And if other dads and moms want record their own albums of comedy just for the kids and their adults, I think it's time it becomes an actual field.

Dad Rock (Walter Martin's My Kinda Music)

Walter Martin’s singing voice is heartfelt and mostly in tune but hardly mellifluous. Martin knows this -- on “Hey Matt,” off his new album My Kinda Music, he jokes with Matt Berninger of The National about how he “love[s] writing songs but… can’t sing.” On the title track, he notes “This is how I sing / If you think I’m kidding I’m not,” joining a line of proudly defiant non-crooners like Eddie Argos of Art Brut (“yes, this is my singing voice”). He has a “shaky voice” (“The Wishing Well”) and sings “kinda funny” (“Hey Sister,” from 2014’s We’re All Young Together). Is Martin a better singer than I am? Probably. But the gap isn’t that wide. (Which is fine, because not everyone can sing like Bruno Mars or Raffi.)

Perhaps this is a case of making the subtext of an artist “finding his voice” no longer subtext. My Kinda Music is unusual for music in the orbit of “kids music” because it’s as much about the experience of Walter Martin’s childhood and his family as it is about childhood and family generally.

Martin's first solo record after years in the indie-rock band The Walkmen, 2014's We're All Young Together, featured a number of songs about animals; only a couple songs dealt concretely with the personal. And as odd as its dreamy tone and lyrics sounded amidst the rest of the "kindie" world, it was recognizable as a "kids music" album. But even as Martin sounded confident about his songwriting instincts for the album back then, this new album is an evolution in subject matter.

On My Kinda Music, Martin sings even more from a personal perspective. He often spins those personal stories into something universal -- on “Family Tree” Martin traces his family’s path from his “Great Great Great Great Grandaddy” who emigrated here from across the ocean down through generations and around the United States all the way through him, both on the East Coast. Presumably it’s entirely true, but even if it’s not, the John Hodgman line that “specificity is the soul of narrative” applies here.

But the songs are about Martin -- or at least Martin as narrator -- “Trip on a Ship” recounts falling in love with someone who appears to be his peer, not child. “Child, The Man Said” features a parental narrator who tells a brief story about a girl named “Clementine” (she moves to New Orleans instead of drowning in the river as in the old folk tune) -- it’s sung in the third person, and Martin is clearly identifying with the parent, not the child. The shambling arrangements and loose rock sound feel scrapbook-like, hand-arranged.

Even the songs that feature a perspective attuned more to the child feel more like Martin’s memories (or embellished fabrications) of his own experiences. “The Everglades” recounts a driving to “Flo-ri-dar” and while it starts out with a happy singalong chorus encouraging people to sing “Hey Ho!” it gradually becomes something spooky. (It’s the best non-Halloween song for Halloween I’ve heard in some time.) And when he inhabits the child’s perspective, his tone is that of a 40-year-old child -- on “Marco Polo,” Martin sings that “Dad’s game are really no fun / But I play along ‘cause I’m a good son.” It’s an eye roll that your 11-year-old has probably done more than once (this week), but an eye roll that you almost never hear in this musical context. And that’s nothing compared “Where’d You Go Uncle Joe?,” a shuffling rocker that includes the line “What’s it like, Uncle Mike, to lose all your hair by 25?” as Martin’s narrator proceeds to cast aspersions on a wide variety of family relations.

In many ways, this album is closer in spirit to the non-kids album between this one and We’re All Young Together, 2016’s Arts & Leisure. Arts & Leisure focused on artists, but that focus was often viewed through the prism of Martin and growing up. “Jobs I Had Before I Got Rich & Famous” paints Martin’s early adulthood as a series of less-than-edifying short-term jobs, culminating in a glimpse of Billy Joel in the Metropolitan Museum’s Cloisters museum that inspires him to become a musician. “Old as Hell” is a depressing tale in which Martin recounts bar fights and hopes to eke out a few more years before he dies -- this is not a kids song -- but “Watson and the Shark,” about being inspired by John Singleton Copley’s “Watson and the Shark” during a family outing to the National Museum of Art (“a stroll through the galleries and a decent but overpriced lunch in the cafeteria”), would slide in easily amidst the other stories of youth on My Kinda Music.

What this album does do is point to the limitations of the term “kids music.” This is an album that is kid-friendly (though I’d be a little worried about the kid younger than 12 who took to the acerbic “Where’d You Go Uncle Joe?”). But the songs about childhood are more about childhood viewed through the hazy mists of parental memory.

The term "kids music" was essentially created by the retail music industry to organize the many albums produced in the wake of Raffi's tremendous mid-70s success. The "genre" by itself doesn't imply a specific musical approach, but for the remainder of the twentieth century, "kids music" was generally synonymous with folk music -- thanks in large part to Raffi's outsized influence building upon the critical work of Pete Seeger, Ella Jenkins, and others, many on the Smithsonian Folkways label. Maybe it was a folk-pop hybrid, or into the '80s, a slightly slicker (or cheesier, depending on your tastes) approach. Beyond that, it took as given that the music was created specifically for kids, no parental input or participation necessary.

Now, I think I would be among the first to argue that our society could generally value artistic endeavors for kids more than it does. (I'd also be among the first to argue that Raffi was and continues to be a stone-cold genius.) But this focus on audience to the exclusion of style and the subsequent flood of Raffi compatriots and imitators led to, from my perspective, a cramped view of what music played for kids could sound like, both musically and lyrically. And while I can see what organizing music towards audiences rather than subject matter or sound might look like -- scrolling through iTunes or Spotify to find the latest releases in "soccer mom" or "retiree" or "stoner" -- that seems too limiting. Organizing music by an approach which could include subject matter in some manner -- think emo -- at least cracks open some genres to wider audiences, including those whose ages haven't reach double digits.

Martin isn’t the first artist to write songs that play around the edges of the term “kids music” -- other artists like Dan Zanes have recorded “all ages” music which didn’t focus on kid topics like brushing teeth or learning to count. In many ways, those attempts are an update of what Pete Seeger did a half-century ago. And other artists like Justin Roberts and Vered (who actually appears in the chorus on the opening track "The Wishing Well") who have a somewhat more familiar kids music sound write songs that occasionally come far closer to the parent perspective than the child's on the parent-child spectrum. But the closest analogue to this most dad-like of albums is, perhaps surprisingly, an album from one of kindie’s strongest female voices.

Back in 2012 Lunch Money’s Spicy Kid offered the listener songs about parenthood and was probably even more adult-focused (albeit more kid-friendly) than Martin’s album. Lunch Money’s Molly Ledford is every bit as personal a songwriter as Martin, and Spicy Kid provides an intimate look at the emotional terrain of parenthood, particularly the life of parenting inquisitive and exhausting kids. Spicy Kid strikes a balance between the adult-aimed and kid-aimed tracks better My Kinda Music does, but I do think Martin would recognize what Ledford is aiming at in her songs.

I don't think My Kinda Music is a particularly good kids music album -- I doubt a kid on their own would gravitate to the album -- though I don't think that's Martin's primary concern. But it is an excellent and kid-friendly album about parenthood and childhood, honest and occasionally sarcastic but mostly tender. And while I'm not arguing that what the world needs most is an album, aimed at parents and kids, about parenthood and childhood by a middle-aged white guy (writes the middle-aged white guy on a website that's spent more than a decade interested in those subjects), I do think that Martin finding his voice, this particular and idiosyncratic voice, is another sign of maturity for what music for kids and families can be. More voices and sounds like Martin's (and Ledford's, and many others), even if they don't sound like Raffi, to suggest other ways of hearing childhood, please.

Photo credits: Sebastian Kim, Matt Barrick

Tim Kubart, Kids Music Grammy Winner, First Among Equals

In the insular world of kids music, news that Tim Kubart won at the 58th Grammys the award for Best Children's Album for his album Home spread quickly and was met with universal acclaim.

In part, it's because Home is a really good album, filled with as many big pop hooks as you might find on a Taylor Swift album.

But there were lots of good albums nominated (the Fids and Kamily Awards agreed with my own assessment), and this was a year in which I would have been satisfied with whichever of the five nominees -- which also included Molly Ledford and Billy Kelly, Lori Henriques, Gustafer Yellowgold, and Jose-Luis Orozco -- won this year's award.

Now, outside the kids music world, well, I'm going to assume that that outside world is pretty big judging by the number of hits my site's received in the past 18 hours or so on pages such as that Home album review up there and my rundown of the list of nominees.

That's why it's what Tim did after his name was called and he and his bandmates jogged down to the stage to accept the award is what will endear him for a looooong time to the rest of us who've spent years in this genre.

58th Children's Music Grammy nominees at Lucky Strike Live

In his speech, which you can view here, Tim thanks a kajillion people in the many different roles he plays -- at one point, after thanking the "Tambourine Army," Kubart says, "I know a lot of this doesn't make sense, but it does to a lot of people." Simply by naming his fellow nominees by name and giving a shout-out to the fact that they were all independent artists (and first-time Grammy nominees, to boot), Kubart gave a boost to the genre. I'm sure that the other four nominees were disappointed that they didn't win, but Kubart's good-hearted nature and generous speech made it easy for them on social media to congratulate Tim. (As somebody noted on Facebook in a status update, "my thumbs are broken from hitting 'Like' so much.") It was really a "first among equals" sort of moment, and while kids music has many good ambassadors, and needs them all (and more) to reach that wide world still unaware of the excellence in this field, there are few I can think of who wear that suit as well and as gracefully as Tim.

Jose-Luis Orozco and band at Lucky Strike Live, Feb. 13, 2016

I should note that, yes, I did party with Grammy nominees on Saturday. The five nominees all played 3-song sets in Hollywood at Lucky Strike Live for an audience of bouncing kids.

I hung out at the back for the most part, listening to musicians I'd known for many years. While I hesitate to call them "friends" because I respect the distance and perspective necessary to observe and critique the genre, these are musicians whose effort I respect and whose company is worth having. That photo I took above with the nominees all together? I saw similar photos from the ceremony itself on Monday. While I've had lots of mixed thoughts over the years about the Grammy Awards and their value, if they can bring together artists once a year on the West Coast to party and celebrate what they do, then in my book, they've done enough.

58th Grammy Award Nominations for Best Children's Album

I am of mixed mind when it comes to the Grammys. I'm a fan, of course, of celebrating outstanding achievement in the kids' music world, but sometimes the nominees have been... interesting. Which isn't to say that we should celebrate or denigrate a process depending on how much we personally like or dislike the results, but given the tremendous fluctuation from year to year of what type of albums are getting nominated, in the runup to this morning's announcement of Grammy nominees, I deliberately kept a low-key attitude.

But, hey, setting aside any qualms I have about the Grammys and kids music generally, the list of nominees for Best Children's Album at the 58th Grammy Awards was announced this morning, and it is a fine, fine slate of nominees, including some of the best (and nicest) folks in the kids music genre. It features four newer artists and one legend, Jose-Luis Orozco, who, though his album tends somewhat more toward the folk/educational sound that may not catch as many modern listeners' ears as some of the other nominees here, is, as I said, a legend who I was surprised to find out earned his first Grammy nomination this morning. It's well-deserved.

In any case, here's a list of the five nominees and some links to let you explore further. The Grammys will be awarded Monday, February 15, with the awards in categories like Children's Album to be awarded earlier that weekend.

¡Come Bien! Eat Right!

Jose-Luis Orozco

[Review]

Bilingual album celebrating healthy eating, Orozco's first album on Smithsonian Folkways

Dark Pie Concerns

Gustafer Yellowgold

[Review]

Funny enough this should appear under Orozco's album -- this is all about food, too. But about as far away as possible from that album in style, lyrics, and just about everything else. Wonderful, but in its own way.

Home

Tim Kubart

[Review]

Pop hooks. So. Many. Pop. Hooks.

How Great Can This Day Be

Lori Henriques

[Review]

Tickles me pink to have Henriques' jazz and jazz-inflected songs on this list of nominees.

Trees

Molly Ledford & Billy Kelly

[Review]

Sui generis album about the natural world from two of kindie's most unique artists.

2015 Fids and Kamily Music Awards logo

Fids and Kamily Award Winners for 2015 Announced!

2015 Fids and Kamily Music Awards logo

Oh my goodness, is it that time of year again? The time for the Fids and Kamily Music Poll?

It is, yay!

For those of you who aren't familiar with Fids and Kamily, it's a yearly event I founded back in 2006 that combines yearly top 10 lists from a whole bunch of folks who listen to a lot of kids music to come up with a consensus list of the year's best music for kids and families. (If you want more philosophy behind the awards, you can read this post.)

Anyway, Bill Childs from Spare the Rock, Spoil the Child has been coordinating the awards with me from the very beginning in 2006. And if I'm doing my math right, that means that's ten years of celebrating the best in music for kids and families.

Now we're tickled pink to get to announce the winners for 2015, led by the consensus winner, Trees, by Molly Ledford and Billy Kelly. The Top 12 albums of 2015 are (in order):

1. Molly Ledford and Billy Kelly - Trees

2. Alastair Moock and Friends - All Kinds of You and Me

3. The Pop Ups - Great Pretenders Club

4. Lori Henriques - How Great Can This Day Be

5. (tie) Renee and Friends - Simpatico

5. (tie) Recess Monkey - Hot Air

7. Tim Kubart - Home

8. Josh and the Jamtones - Rocksteady

9. Red Yarn - Deep Woods Revival

10. (tie) Andrew and Polly - Odds & Ends

10. (tie) Jazzy Ash - Bon Voyage

10. (tie) Vered - Hello My Baby

[Note: this post has been updated to reflect a correction in the list as the Jazzy Ash and Vered albums were incorrectly omitted due to an inadvertent scoring error.]

You can go over to Fids and Kamily to see more, like the 8 honorable mention winners, and you can listen to selections from the top 12 by streaming this week's Spare the Rock, Spoil the Child.

Thanks as always to all the musicians who make music for families, the judges for making their lists and checking them twice, and to you, dear readers and listeners, for supporting and being interested in music for kids and families!

Video: "(It's Just a) Dumb Ol' Stick" - Molly Ledford & Billy Kelly

Who knew that a dumb old stick could inspire a delightful little song? Or that trees could inspire an entire album of delightful little songs? Molly Ledford & Billy Kelly, that's who! Now, those two artists, who've spent an entire kindie career writing songs that recognize the beauty and humor in everyday objects, have turned their attention to the sticks. In this video for "(It's Just a) Dumb Ol' Stick," sticks of all shapes, bumps, and sizes get their day in the video sun. Or maybe it's a scrapbooking spotlight -- anyway, it's a fun video for a fun song.

Molly Ledford & Billy Kelly - "(It's Just a) Dump Ol' Stick" [YouTube]