Review: Explorer of the World - Frances England

Explorer of the World album cover

Explorer of the World album cover

Frances England didn’t plan on becoming a kids musician when she made her first album more than a decade ago.  She just wanted to contribute something to her son’s preschool fundraiser, and wrote songs for a homegrown CD while supervising her son’s baths.  But that album’s popularity far surpassed the small world of that San Francisco school.  Last Friday she officially released her fifth album for families, Explorer of the World.

As the album title suggests, England is concerned with themes of exploration, observation, and investigation.  But rather than traveling long distances, she pays close attention to the world literally outside her front door -- walking her dog around her neighborhood, for example, noticing patterns and colors.  She’s inspired as much by visual artists like Wendy McNaughton and Keri Smith as by musicians, and like those artists, she encourages her listeners to pay attention to the art around them daily.

England’s music isn’t as shiny and poppy as that of her peers, but this new album is even more experimental than most kids music.  Instead of using chord progressions as the jumping-off point for songs, on some tracks she used field recordings she made walking around San Francisco.  “City Don’t Sleep,” for example, started with recordings from late-night walks along North Beach.

Co-producers Dean Jones and Dave Winer bring a lot of different perspectives in terms of the musical production, and the result is an album that vibrates as their approaches (Jones: earthy kitchen-sink sound; Winer: try-anything sonic collage and percussion) differ, but resonate with each other and with England.

I was trying to come up with the appropriate age range for the album, and while I'm going to put at ages 5 through 9, like much of England's more recent work, it's probably broader than that.  Not for toddlers, perhaps, but also for kids older than 9, if you get them to sit down and really listen.  (You can listen to this album -- along with the rest of her music -- here.)

Even though this album celebrates exploring her own backyard, Frances England is more interested in the process of keeping her eyes open to the world around her.  In discovering her own neighborhood, she reminds the rest of us that we can do the same with our own streets and sidewalks.  Highly recommended.

What Can You Find? Frances England's "All The Things I've Found" Contest

Explorer of the World album cover

Explorer of the World album cover

I'm a looooongtime fan of Frances England dating all the way back to her debut album Fascinating Creatures, which is now 10 years old.  (Wow! Really!)  Her new album Explorer of the World is set to be released on April 1, and if you've heard any of it -- try "City Don't Sleep" -- you'll understand why it's one of the most eagerly anticipated kids' albums of the year.

From my perspective, one of the most exciting things about the album isn't even the album itself, it's the Art + Observation activity book England made to accompany the album.  Filled with activities that encourage discovery of the world next door by kids of all ages, it dovetails perfectly with the exploration theme of the album itself.  (Fans of the books of Keri Smith and Lynda Barry's Syllabus, among others, will be particularly enamored of England's small book.)

To promote the upcoming album, England's been creating a series of short promotional videos, and I'm pleased to premiere the latest, which features a bit of "All The Things I've Found," one of the songs on the album.  Unsurprisingly, the visuals accompanying the clip show some of the amazing patterns around us if we spend a little time looking for them.

Frances and I have a little assignment for you, too -- we're looking for patterns that you or your kids find in your everyday life.  Post a picture of such a pattern here or on the Facebook post for this, and I'll randomly select one entry to receive a free copy of the album!  I don't do contests often here, but I think that the chance to win this album is worth you taking the time out of your day to find an interesting pattern.  Actually, I think it's worth you taking the time to find an interesting pattern regardless, but a chance to win the album is a sweet bonus.  All entries for the contest are due by Monday at 7 PM West Coast time.  Thanks and good luck!

Video: "I Made a Mess" - They Might Be Giants

The unstoppable march towards They Might Be Giants' new kids album Why? continues.  ("Time... is marching on...")  Today's TMBG Dial-A-Song treat is "I Made a Mess" and while as with many TMBG songs, its thematically ambiguous lyrics could fit on an album for kids or adults, lines like "No matter how much I wash / It looks even messier than / It did before / I'm making it worse / By trying to clean it up" sure sound like kids' album to me.

The only thing that gives me pause is that the video is filled with public-domain video clips and while it's cute and totally worth your kids' time (and yours), the band has tended to commission brand new animation and film for its kids DVDs.  Maybe this is a song that won't make the final cut for Why?, which means we're in for one fine time...

They Might Be Giants - "I Made a Mess" [YouTube]

It's Not About the Water Bottle: 2014 XOXO Conference

I was making my way to my seat near the back of the plane, when I had this flash of recognition followed shortly by a sinking feeling:

I'd lost my water bottle.

AAAAAHHHHH!  I ever-so-briefly wondered: could I -- should I -- get off the plane to retrieve it?  Wander through the waiting area in the Portland airport?  And then I realized going back to get a water bottle was all kinds of wrong and I'd never see that lovely water bottle ever again.

What sort of water bottle, you might ask, would put thoughts of exiting a plane into my mind?  They still serve water and drinks on planes (for now).  Why the angst?

Well, it was a sweet little stainless steel water bottle featuring a logo from the conference and festival I'd just attended, XOXO. And besides how forgetting it made me feel like a dork -- what am I, an absent-minded preschooler? -- it was a tangible reminder of the very real community I'd just spent 3 days joining.  Who wants to lose a feeling of belonging?

The Redd, a former factory converted into temporary tech conference hotel ballroom in Portland.

The Redd, a former factory converted into temporary tech conference hotel ballroom in Portland.

I'll choose to blame the Andys, I guess.  That would be Andy Baio and Andy McMillan, the founders and organizers of the festival.  It seems unfair, I know, to blame the people responsible for creating and giving me the water bottle for my loss of it, but it makes sense in some perverse way, right?  If they hadn't created this festival and all the experiences within it, then I wouldn't be sad about losing this totem that could have been a daily reminder of those experiences.

The conference -- this year's edition was its third iteration -- is described as "an experimental festival celebrating independently-produced art and technology."  What does that mean, though?

If you wanted to describe the conference as a tech conference, you could do so without drawing any snickers.  There were many people from technology firms large and small in attendance. I talked to programmers (lots of programmers), data visualizers, designers.  I'm sure that if I were part of that community in my daily life I could have -- and would have -- had more conversations that discussed APIs, whatever those are.

(I kid. I know what APIs are. Sort of.)

But I am not part of that community.  My dad was many years ago -- maybe if I'd told my story about attending SIGGRAPH as a teenager with him more than 25 years ago I'd could've earned some IT cred -- but me? No.  I have a middle-class job I enjoy very much but that is emphatically not in the art and/or technology fields.  I was at XOXO because I:

a) won a lottery (well, multiple lotteries, more on that later),

b) write and talk about kids music for fun and, occasionally, (comparatively little) money, and

c) knew enough about the Andys and their previous conferences.

I thought it'd be a fun time and that I might learn something.

So for me, XOXO was not a tech conference. It wasn't even a creatives conference.

It was, above all, a conference modeling possible ways to negotiate life.

My game of Marrying Mr. Darcy -- so, so fun.

My game of Marrying Mr. Darcy -- so, so fun.

We joke in my day job that if you learn something new -- on your own, not from someone else in the office -- you get to take the rest of the day off.  Doesn't matter how job-related the fact is or isn't -- in fact, the less related to the job, the better the joke when somebody tells us some incredible fact they just learned and then says, "OK, I'm outta here, see you tomorrow."  Although we joke about it (no, we don't actually leave the office), there's something serious underlying that conceit.  It's the idea that curiosity is a valuable trait, sometimes for its usefulness to the job at hand and sometimes for its (current) uselessness to the job at hand.

I suspect many XOXO attendees would subscribe to that notion.  I met puppeteers, house concert organizers, people who develop apps and websites or played in bands on the side.  I met very few people with narrow interests.  Collectively and individually, there was a pronounced tendency towards interest in, if not outright enthusiasm for, new things.  In this regard, I was amongst my people.  I met lots of people, too -- it was a very outgoing crowd, or at least one in which wandering up to a conversation in progress or talking with someone waiting for lunch from the food carts parked outside the conference building was expected.

I'm a believer that conferences are remembered not by the ostensible purpose of the conference -- the talks, the workshops -- but rather the entertainment and conversations surrounding the conference.  XOXO scored very highly in that regard, attracting a group of interested (and interesting) people and then giving them spaces in which to interact when the talks were over.  I was most acutely drawn to those events which allowed the highest degree of interaction -- Music (singing along and dancing with others is fun!) and especially the Tabletop event.  I highly recommend Marrying Mr. Darcy, which I purchased on the spot after playing, and can also recommend the forthcoming Monikers.  I danced and sang along to Pomplamoose with fellow XOXO attendee Lori Henriques one night, and John Roderick and Sean Nelson the next (Roderick playing a gig with a broken finger on his strumming hand for goodness' sakes).  I played video games -- I almost never play video games.

Hey, it's Pomplamoose!  (Live at Holocene, Friday night)  Do not miss them, people!

Hey, it's Pomplamoose!  (Live at Holocene, Friday night)  Do not miss them, people!

I watched as the XOXO CEOs -- that is, Chief Enthusiasm Officers -- Andy and Andy sang and danced along with the rest of us.  Yes, they had to deal with the major and minor annoyances involved in putting together such a large undertaking, but they also had figured out a way to structure their life for the weekend such that they could also take time to sing along, to indulge their joy in the carnival they'd brought to life.

Hank Green is a funny, funny man.  Right!

Hank Green is a funny, funny man.  Right!

Most of the talks during the daytime conference were good, with my attention only drifting through a couple of them.  They will eventually be posted online, and I encourage you to check them out, particularly those from Erin McKean, Hank Green, Joseph Fink, Rachel Binx, Darius Kazemi, and Pablo Garcia and Golan Levin.

The talks themselves (16 in all) blur together a bit -- but you can search the #xoxofest tag on Twitter and find lots of pithy quotations from the presentation, half of them probably from Wordnik (now Reverb) founder Erin McKean.  She talked about creativity, coining the phrase "an enthusiasm of Andys," and about how being creative in a separate field with no stakes (in her case, her affinity for sewing clothes for herself) offers her freedom.

She also talked about difficult times, how "The only way out is through."  This is a slight reworking of Robert Frost's famous line from his 1914 poem "A Servant to Servants" -- "The best way out is always through," but the meaning is the same -- you can't escape difficult times, you just have to work through them.

I would offer a corollary piece of advice appropriate for XOXO that the only way in is, well, in.  To start.  That's probably an easy statement to make in the midst of hundreds of people who start and make stuff, but harder to hold onto a month later when you're at home with far fewer of those people around you.  We are all interdependent, as several speakers reminded us, and so gratefulness is always a good approach, but those interdependencies and webs of support can be hidden too.

Hank Green of Vlogbrothers fame gave a talk notable for its movement (was he pacing? It sure felt like he was pacing) and for not taking much credit for his success.  He essentially found it random (as did Joseph Fink, co-creator of the out-of-nowhere podcast-now-live-show phenomenom Welcome to Night Vale).  And if success at some level is essentially random, then you need to think repeatedly about why you're doing something so you can adjust course if necessary. "Better to think about why you want something than what you want," Green said, and depending on the path your life takes, "you might not want what you thought you wanted."  In other words (mine, to be clear): do something for how it makes you feel or because it's the right thing to do, not for the end result. Because you can't guarantee that end result.


I think that's Oregon peaches with toasted walnuts on top, some sort of chocolate with a hint of sea salt on the bottom.

I think that's Oregon peaches with toasted walnuts on top, some sort of chocolate with a hint of sea salt on the bottom.

I'm a straight, white male, reasonably fit and healthy, and with a middle to perhaps upper-middle class upbringing here in the United States.  That means I've already been luckier than 95% -- 98%? -- of anyone who's ever lived in terms of the ease of my life.

It is the equivalent of having someone hand you two scoops of ice cream served in a waffle cone from Salt & Straw for no reason whatsoever. (I took one of my dinner breaks to walk there from the conference and eat ice cream. For dinner. It was worth it.)

It is the equivalent of winning the lottery.  Maybe not the million-dollar jackpot -- though I suspect that over a lifetime those personal characteristics may very well have given me a million dollars worth of advantages -- but certainly a big deal.

And being at XOXO was like winning the lottery again.  I literally won a lottery to attend -- that was how the Andys chose to divy out most of their passes to the event to people who applied online, and my name was randomly selected.  It wasn't cheap, either -- $500 for the conference and festival pass, plus travel expenses.  That middle-class day job I have?  That allows me, with diligent budgeting, to sometimes do something like this.

So I spent a lot of time listening and thinking about privilege.  For me, some of the most useful presentations and conversations of the weekend were the ones like that from Rachel Binx, who has founded a couple different companies, but who was brutally honest in recounting the times when running those business has been difficult financially.  I talked with art dealer Jen Bekman about a presentation she found frustrating in a way I might not otherwise have understood.  I got to see one of the iOS apps that the App Camp For Girls developed this past summer and talk about the need for more such environments with founder Jean MacDonald.  I'd like to think I understood those concepts intellectually in my younger dats, but as a parent of a STEAM-obsessed Miss Mary Mack who's now thinking about high schools and math and programming, it's become more real for me.  (All this, plus a talk about misogyny in gaming by Anita Sarkeesian, whose presentation was far more calm and rational than I would be if I'd had death threats lodged against me and my mere presence to give a talk required the presence of a bodyguard.)

The most subversive talk of the conference was from Darius Kazemi. I don't want to ruin his talk too much, but suffice it to say it was funny and served as a commentary on many talks at tech conferences and, to be honest, lots of conferences generally.  Kazemi points out that a lot of people's success is based on luck -- he pinned the percentage of stuff that succeeds with the public at maybe 10%.  This is similar to what musician Jonathan Mann said in a separate talk, and also echoed the comments of Hank Green and Joseph Fink.  Both success and failure can be inexplicable.

Not that successful people don't work hard -- many of them do. Heck, I've won those lotteries I've mentioned above, and I still work hard. But to interpret your own success as based solely on work is to deny the power of randomness. Lots of people work hard and never achieve stunning success. Better, then, to focus on the process than the result and try as many things as you have time to.  (David Lowery would agree.)

My XOXO was one of a billion possible XOXOs I could have had.  Most of them would probably have been equally strange and wonderful.  A handful might have unalterably changed my life (presumably for the good, but one never knows).  But it's the XOXO I did have, and I'm grateful for it.  (Thanks, Andy and Andy.  You guys rock.)  Being humble in the face of good fortune you know you're at best only partially responsible for is a good approach for life generally.


I won once more at XOXO, which I can barely believe.  (Actually, I won at least once more beyond that, earning a free game for a score on a Shrek pinball game at a party Friday afternoon, something that I don't think I'd ever earned on any arcade game, pinball or electronic, but never mind that.)

I was one of six people picked to receive a NeoLucida, a small "camera lucida" drawing tool which refracts light so that the viewer can essentially trace an object sitting in front of him or her.  The two men, Pablo Garcia and Golan Levin, who co-founded the company also gave a presentation, and their talk was notable for their pointing out that even in this high-tech society, the manufacture of things still requires people.  The NeoLucida is put together by hand in China by people making far less per day than I make (see again, lottery).

I wanted the NeoLucida because I've never been comfortable with my drawing skills.  That's another way of saying I'm really bad at it.  But by serving as a drawing aid, the NeoLucida offers the opportunity to practice, while producing something that looks, sort of, like real life.  (In particular, I'm looking forward to drawing members of my family.)  I don't need for it to be perfect, I don't even need it to be good.  I just want another way to express creativity, another process to learn, another way in.

In the end, that's what I'm choosing to take from XOXO instead of the water bottle.  The water bottle is a physical reminder of something I did. The NeoLucida and the attitude of XOXO's attendees are reminders of something I'm doing now and what I should do in the future. As long as I walk through life with curiosity, humility, gratefulness, and awareness of others, I can be proud of the life I'm living.

Listen To This: "Craft Night" - The Pop Ups (World Premiere)

AppetiteForConstruction.jpg

Yay for new music from The Pop Ups!  Their new album Appetite for Construction is set to be released a week from today on August 19th and they're rolling out premieres for the songs all over the kindiewebs.

As part of that virtual tour, I get the pleasure today of offering you the world premiere of "Craft Night," the synthesized, dare I say glittery, track celebrating, well, craft nights.  (Stream it via the widget below or go directly here.)  I know that Hall & Oates were great, but how often did you get to make your own flag craft to the strains "Maneater"?  If you like the beautiful things in this song, there's more where that came from (preorder the album on iTunes and Amazon).

Interview: Ben Gundersheimer (Mister G)

MisterG.jpg

When Ben Gundersheimer, known to many kids as Mister G, told me in our interview that his first album came out only five years ago, I was surprised, because I feel like I've heard about him a lot longer than five years.  Or maybe he's just packed a lot into those five years -- five albums (including his latest, The Bossy E), including a couple bilingual ones, and lots of touring, first regionally around his western Massachusetts home, then nationally and internationally.

In our interview, Gundersheimer talks about his musical (and non-musical) upbringing, letting songs create journeys, and how baseball dreams played a part in his bilingual career.


Zooglobble: What are your first musical memories?

Ben Gundersheimer: My first musical memories are pretty much pre-verbal.  I don't know if this is actually my memory, but it's certainly be talked about by my parents a lot.  Back in the '70s, when the kid could be in the front seat, just pounding on the dashboard whenever I heard music.  I'd just play along, whether it was in the car or pots and pans.  So there was that rhythmic primal memory.

My first distinct memory with a particular artist was the Carpenters.  "Top of the World" was a big hit in Philadelphia on all the top radio stations and I just loved it and my parents -- and I still have this album to this day -- the Carpenters' Greatest Hits.

So what's your favorite Carpenters song?

Oh, wow, that's stuff.  I'm tempted to go to my record collection and peruse, because that's not an answer I want to take lightly.  [Laughs]  I need time, it's such an important question.

It's funny, I moved on from that one quite quickly, but at the time, it was so impactful.  And getting the record, and the tactile experience of handling the record and that it was mine.  I played it over and over.  And this was when I was 3 or 4 years old -- it was incredibly exciting.

When did you start taking lessons -- not thinking about it as a career, just taking lessons?

Oddly enough, the desire for career predated lessons.  From the age of 5 or 6… in school, learning how to write, they gave assignments -- and my parents kept some of these -- it was very clear, I wanted to be a baseball player and a musician.  And I never really grew out of that, frankly, and I pleaded with my parents to take guitar lessons, to no avail.  My parents were sort of classically-oriented people, both in music and in general, so I was sent to recorder lessons at this sort of conservatory.  I was a quick dropout, that didn't go well.  So at 9 years old I took guitar lessons at this little folks studio in Philadelphia.

Were your parents musically-oriented?  I'm sure they were culturally oriented, but were, say, books more important, less important --

Books were way more important in our house, especially with my mom [children's book author and illustrator Karen Gundersheimer].  To the extent that there was music, it really was classical.  I've inherited their collection and it's pretty formidable in the classical camp.  To some extent they got into '60s folk movement and so we had nice collection of Pete Seeger and Woody Guthrie.   And that slid a little bit into the '70s -- we had a [single] James Taylor album, a [single] Linda Ronstadt album, but those knocked me out too, completely, as a little kid.  For them it was much more about books than music.

Fast forward a few years.  You have a career making music for kids and families in Massachusetts.  When did you start becoming this globetrotting troubadour?

Everything with the kids music career, and I use that term liberally, happened unexpectedly, quite organically, and shockingly to us.  What is somewhat ironic is that I did have a bit of a career as a globetrotting musician for adults for a number of years and I'll find myself playing venues I'd played before for grownups, and much more happily now, playing at 10 in the morning instead of 10 at night.

It happened so unexpectedly.  I'd been in the so-called singer-songwriter world for a long time, and was pretty burnt out and went back to get a Masters in Elementary Education with the intention of becoming a classroom teacher and transition out of music as a profession.  In fact I taught Bill Childs' children at the Smith College Campus School.  Whenever I had any autonomy as a teacher during my student training I would just write songs with the kids, primarily because I didn't know what to do as a teacher but I knew how to be a songwriter.  That was very exciting for me because I could engage with the kids and they came alive in a way I didn't see otherwise.

MisterGMexico.jpg

The upshot was that I wrote the songs that ended up on the first record and started performing locally around Northampton while working as a classroom teacher.  That first year we just played regionally, I had my day job and and one thing led to another to the point where we were getting offers to play in other places, and were finding it so fulfilling.  I was frankly to enter the fray of being a full-time musician again, but it was too compelling and rewarding.  [My wife] Katherine was working full-time as a college professor, and eventually a couple years ago she stopped doing that to get involved with this because she too was finding it incredibly rewarding and interesting in terms of the places it was taking us and the experiences we were having and the people we were encountering along the way.

A couple of months after the first album came out, which was 5 years ago next month, we got married and that winter we took our honeymoon to Colombia.  I'd only been doing the Mister G project for 2 or 3 months at that point.  We'd played a handful of gigs at that point, and they were packed -- the kids I was teaching brought out their parents and it was a blast.  So we're on our honeymoon in Colombia and the thought occurred to me to write some songs in Spanish, because I was already enjoying playing for and working with kids so much.  And I thought if I wrote some songs in Spanish, I could make some contacts and play some shows down here at some point.  Sure enough, I played some gigs, some on the street, and they became these impromptu dance parties.  That spurred me on to write more.  The last couple records were bilingual, and that led to performing in Mexico and Guatemala as well as bilingual communities around the United States.

I'd spoken Spanish for forever -- in fact, going back to the baseball thing, in junior high, when I was presented with the choice of what language to study, Spanish and French being the options, I chose Spanish because I was convinced that being a major league baseball player, [Spanish] would be more useful to communicate with my future teammates.  Needless to say, that came to pass.  I'd been writing songs ever since I learned to play the guitar, but hadn't thought about writing songs in Spanish until I started playing with kids.  That realization that writing songs could lead to new experiences really came true...

I don't know if you ever saw the video for "Gonna Take My Hat"?

Yeah, that's the one where you're in crowds, playing concerts...

A lot of it is shot in Paris and London.  We had a couple of shows lined up, but the song was written knowing we were going to Europe, and we were thinking of the video and what we could shoot to show why we were even here in the first place.  So it was written on the plane going to Paris, and shot, prior to it even being recorded.  So those songs jump-started a whole new trajectory of where we play and who we play to.

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I like that idea, that the songs take you places… So, your last couple albums had a Spanish-language focus, what drew you to the idea of a literacy and reading-themed album, The Bossy E?

Well, part of my desire since I started off on this path has been to meld my interest in education with my background as a musician, performer, and writer.  Coming out of the family I did, reading and writing, making up my own story, that was something that captivated me, that was respected and admired in the household.

To a larger extent, as we've traveled around and outside the country, it's alarming to me to see to what extent music and art are no longer part of a school experience and to what extent kids are spending time in front of a screen.  In retrospect, I had this unusual childhood in which reading was so valued and creativity was so appreciated.  It's just immediately apparent to me as I do these songwriting workshops in the schools where I invent 3 or 4 songs right on the spot, where we'll write a song about whatever, an experience where kids' ideas become part of a creative process.  I think it all comes back to reading -- if you know how to read and write, that opens the door to everything in terms of autonomous thinking and creativity.

I've been writing a lot of music since I've started, 40 or 50 songs that I had and realized that a lot of them that deals with that… like my song "Video Games," -- it's a cautionary tale about what could happen if you spend too much time watching video games.  Or "Standing on Top of My Head," it's not about reading, it's about creativity and its power to take you wherever you want to go.  I wanted the music to be about learning and fun, with the learning being transparent -- you never want to make it heavy-handed.  It's a platform for saying how important -- and how fun -- it is to read, to write, and to express yourself creatively.  Kids are immediately open and receptive to that if they get an opportunity.

Was there a particular theme other than literacy in mind?

There were songs about reading, but a lot of them were just about imagination, and that's a theme that I've touched upon in other songs, like "Blast Off" from Bugs.  So I think the album's got a broader theme than just literacy and advocacy and it's a little more expansive, trying to empower kids, if they don't feel this way already, to recognize the power they have to use their imagination to express themselves creatively and in entertaining ways.

You have a couple cool guests on the record -- Charles Neville and Massamba Diop -- and I'm curious how they ended up appearing on the record.

Charles moved out to our area after Katrina, and so I just called him up -- I'd met him in passing a few times -- and he called right back.  His tracks are extraordinary and you get a sense of what a special person he is.  As a person, his humanity and presence are amazing.  With Charles, that's very moving to me.  I've been a bit of a Neville Brothers fanatic and to me they represent a perfect blend of funk and soul and different influences -- to me, they're the ultimate American roots band.  And there's something about his playing in particular that's always been particularly moving to me.  So that was a bit of a lifetime thrill for me to come to the house and the studio and to hit it off with him so much.  And then on top of that to chat after the session and to hear his thoughts about the role music and creativity and reading and how meaningful that is for kids was great.

Massamba I'd met several times.  There's a terrific drummer who lives across the street from me named Tony Vaga who has spent a lot of time in Africa -- Tony plays on this record, too.  Tony's had a long-standing back-and-forth with some of the greatest Senagalese musicians, Massamba being one of them.  Massamba was here to play some shows, and I've been trying to get him over here, just trying to make the timing work.  So he had one day that overlapped, and he came over, and we [played].

We're traveling more internationally these days than I ever did playing for adults.  The cliche that music is the universal language I'm finding to be completely true with folks like Massamba. It's really inspiring.

I'm curious -- when you talk to these internationally known stars, what is the reaction you get from musicians not hooked into the kids music world -- do they need convincing, or do they say, "It's music, it's all good."  Do they care?

In my experience, musicians… The guys who are the rhythm section on all the Mister G albums, they're maybe not "stars," but they're all top New York session guys, like playing for Suzanne Vega and Cyndi Lauper.  What they respond to is the music -- if the music excites them, then they're excited.

I've found that with "adult" music, the lyrics, whether they tune into them or not, it's secondary to the musicians.  But with kids music, it flips a little.  With Charles and Massamba, they're both global citizens and so cognizant of the role music played in taking them from New Orleans or a little village to see the world.  They're musical ambassadors and really care a lot about kids.  I find that they're tuning into the lyrics when we take a break and finding them meaningful and important in a way that a lot of pop songs don't have.  These guys who don't typically inhabit that space, if they're turned on by the song, by the groove, by the track itself, really get a charge out of it.  Which has been thrilling to me.  I still feel like all of us in the kids community need to keep working to fight against this perception that kids music is somehow "less than" and can be taken less seriously.  There's some sense of discrimination of what this means.  So that's part of what drives me.  No compromises, bring it to the highest level I can.

Which do you prefer more, playing live -- you've got a really energetic, fun live show -- or do you prefer the songwriting workshops?

For me, it's always the performing.  I love both -- I love every aspect -- but if I had to choose only one thing, it'd be playing concerts, no doubt.

What's next for you?

This summer's busy -- the record just came out, record release show in Philadelphia, show in Brooklyn, shows back in Pennsylvania, then we're home for a few days, then a national tour.  Shows in the Bay Area, Getty Museum in LA, then Portland, and the tour continues through the fall.  We're working on turning some of the songs into children's books, which we're very excited about. And then we've got some other projects percolating, both bilingual and otherwise.