Babble

"We Can All Get Along With Dinosaurs," the third track on If You Ever See an Owl . . . , has my eighteen-month-old enthusiastically, if not gracefully, bopping his diaper-clad buns off. "Wow," I think, "Nathan's really diggin' the music." Then I realize my dancing toddler is possibly just copying his dad, whose moves are, sadly, no more coordinated than his son's. Fancy dance moves aside, the whole household genuinely loves this bright, poppy album from former Get Up Kids frontman Matt Pryor and his bandmates in the New Amsterdams, with its jangly guitars and Pryor's earnestly nasal vocals. "Math Stomp" (my favorite math primer since "Three is a Magic Number"), the jaunty "Heather in the Heather," and the title track blend so seamlessly into our Death Cab for Cutie and Neko Case-laden music collection that they barely make a blip when iTunes sends them up on shuffle. And the sleepy closer, "Grumpy Bug," has given me a new lullaby to sing at bedtime: "The hour grows old / and I love you so / But I wish you'd sleep." — Jessica Bennett

In my battle to keep a DVD player out of our car, I have a new ally: Juanita the Spanish Lobster. Juanita comes to us from Magic Maestro Music's "Stories in Music" series (also available in Spanish as Juanita la Longosta Española). A modern-day spin on books-on-tape, this series was put together by a husband-and-wife team with an extensive symphonic background. The CD tells the musical story of cranky crustacean Juanita, her dreams of going to The Land and her hair-raising escape from a lobster pot. When the story ends, the album moves on to an audio tour of the creative minds behind Juanita — perfect for road trips and/or music appreciation class. One track is devoted to how composer David Haslam uses a wonderful combination of flamenco and bel canto opera to set the stage down in Juanita's ocean grotto ("What's a grotto?" asked my children); hearing the castanets, one can just see Juanita's claws clacking. Another boasts an alternate doo-wop take of the story's love song, O, Juanita. The London Symphony orchestra is featured throughout. Juanita's story has inspired much artwork in my house, and the behind-the-scenes tracks left my girls feeling that they, too, could grow up to be storytellers or composers. — Melissa Eva Miller

In the liner notes for Welcome to Ralph's World, Ralph Covert writes, "I don't think of what I do as 'kid's music;' that seems too limiting. I think of it as 'fun music for everybody.'" He's right. Maybe it's not what you would put on your iPod for a trip to the gym, but Covert is clearly aiming to entertain the whole family. "The Coffee Song" is a hilarious ditty about your favorite addiction, "Fee Fi Fo Fum" rocks harder than it probably deserves to, and minus the lyrics about bicycles and rainbows, tracks like "Dance Around" and "Riding With No Hands" could fit right in next to Natalie Merchant and the BoDeans during the slideshow for your fifteen-year sorority reunion. The rest of it is sweet, innocuous fun. My son liked the novelty songs like "Peggy's Pie Parlor Polka" and "Surfin' In My Imagination" the best, along with the bonus DVD featuring six "concert" videos of Ralph's best songs. — Matt Wood

At first, the idea of setting classical masterpieces to silly lyrics made me cringe skeptically. But when I played Beethoven's Wig 3 on the ride to preschool, both faces in the backseat of my van froze with interest, two heads started to bob, and two "What is this? We love it!" grins appeared in my rearview mirror. More than simply goofy, the lyrics written for these symphonies and suites help kids envision what these normally word-free songs evoke in one's imagination: butterflies fluttering by, maidens playing mandolin, aliens asking to be taken to your leader in Washington, D.C. At the end of the album, all of the songs repeat; this time, they're performed without the words and in a kid-friendly (but not overly simplified) fashion. Which brings me to the reason I love this album: I can now sing along with my favorite classical pieces, as I've always dreamed of doing. There is such satisfaction in belting out, "Hello! Is anybody in there?" to Tocatta and Fugue in D Minor. And it brought me great pleasure to see five-year-old Charlotte march out of her bedroom, singing, to the tune of Toreador from the opera Carmen, "Please, keep your bull outside the china shop! No bulls allowed! That's where they stop!" — Melissa Eva Miller

It's great that there are so many rockers performing kids' music, but sometimes you need to throw off the chains of cool and embrace the joys of Tin Pan Alley songcraft. The big band sounds of the delightfully goofy Lithgow's first children's album, Singin' in the Bathtub, won me over years before I had offspring of my own. The Sunny Side of the Street is even more charming, boasting a duet with the transcendent Madeleine Peyroux (punctuated by a miraculously un-annoying kid-chorus) on the title track; Marx Brothers mad-cappery on the raucous "I Love You"; and a foot-stomping anthem to the workers of the New York City sewer system. My son's favorite is "I'm a Manatee," a rollicking ditty about "the least appealing creature on the planet-ee." My choice is a rewrite of a risqué Dorothy Fields classic turned into an imagined dialogue between a pre-verbal baby and his mother. Sung in a duet with cabaret star Maude Maggart, the song's exchange of poignant musings and infantile non-sequitors is simply sublime. — Jessica Bennett

The cover art for Baby Bach/Baby Beethoven is a giraffe in a tux playing violin with a bunny in a bow tie, and it well represents the music inside. I played a bunch of the Baby Einstein tracks for my five-month-old (short, dumb-sounding versions of the Brandenburg concertos, Goldberg Variations, Für Elise, etc., mostly on electric keyboard), and then played her the same melodies with more classical arrangements, hoping for two different and fascinating reactions. Some people think babies are synesthesic (they don't just hear music, but see, feel and taste it), and both versions made her smile, kick her feet, and suck on her toes with equal glee. She didn't stop drooling or appear any smarter, but true to the Baby Einstein liner notes, the "dark, heavy organs" of Bach had been replaced with a more "gentle, playful" sound. It's a sickly sweet, cheesy sound, and I doubt there's any good reason kids should listen to watered-down versions of classical masterpieces, but it's probably not causing any harm. In fact, if you listen to it enough times, you start to realize it's a pretty fine line between syrupy kid music and a whimsical Wes Anderson soundtrack. — Deirdre Dolan

"I like it," five-year-old Charlotte piped up immediately upon hearing the acoustic guitar of Different. I took a little bit longer to decide whether I liked the subtle sounds of the album, which was written by Elizabeth Street's singer, Susan Kolbenheyer. Setting out to provide a new type of album for the kids' genre, one that would speak as much to the older kids and tweens as to the littler ones, Kolbenheyer takes on a variety of issues that children of all ages face today. The song "Shoes," for example, is about friends who are best buddies one day and ambivalent about each other the next; "Fair" is about making the best of life's unfairness. Kolbenheyer's quiet "grown-up song" voice is unusual for kids' music and at times lacks enunciation and levity — even while singing about subjects like picking your nose, eyeball people, and deciding to eat a dragon for dinner (only to make friends with it and have broccoli instead). "She has a sweet voice," Charlotte answered, when I prodded her about why she liked the album, and this is true, she has a beautiful voice. Different is a fine "quiet time" album, but after repeated listens it didn't stick with me — and while the kids seemed to like it, it never made it onto their most-requested list. — Melissa Eva Miller

With its Adult Swim aesthetic, fully orchestrated score and endearing classroom-pet protagonists, Wonder Pets is an easy show to love. But it also incorporates my favorite new trend in children's television: borrowing songwriters from Broadway. Helmed by Spamalot's Larry Hochman, the musical team behind Wonder Pets crafts each episode as two ambitious mini-operas (a far cry from those public-domain sing-alongs that dominated children's television a decade ago). And as this new album demonstrates, the Wonder Pets soundtrack is plenty entertaining, even without the accompanying animation. The CD features the best of the show's animal-rescue sequences, like Ming-Ming's rousing solo number "Poor Baby Squirrel" and "The Caterpillar's Song," a heartbreaking duet in which a caterpillar struggles to find common ground with a friend who recently became a butterfly. Adults may be surprised by the complexity of the music; there's a serious orchestra behind these silly songs. Of course, if you're already sick of your child belting, "The phone! The phone is ringing!" whenever you get a call, this CD is not going to help matters. - Gwynne Watkins

True to its title, All Together Singing in the Kitchen is a compilation of songs that indie folk-rock sisters Nerissa and Katryna Nields grew up singing together in the kitchen (and lots of other rooms) of their musically gifted household. The album does a wonderful job of passing on the rich history of children's music with classics like "Aikendrum", Shel Silverstein's "The Unicorn," "Red, Red Robin" and "The Rattlin' Bog," while intermingling tenderly crafted original compositions inspired by the children in the lives of the singers. The distinguishing characteristic of the Nields' music is their harmonies: Nerissa's powerful alto and Katryna's vibrato-filled soprano blend so perfectly that they seem to create a third voice. And they're obviously having such a good time that it's hard not to sing along, even if it's the fortieth time you've heard the album in a week. The inclusion of more "adult" folk songs ("Oh, Mary Don't You Weep" and "Night Rider's Lament") seemed a little out of place to me at first, but they provide a nice break for the parents and, unexpectedly, became two of my kids' favorites. Five-year-old Charlotte and three-year-old Iris request this album on every trip in the car, with Charlotte acting as emcee, hollering, "Okay, Iris, here's your song — sing real loud!"— Melissa Eva Miller