"A collection of children's music that goes way beyond the confines of the medium, either in music, lyrics or spirit. . . these songs capture the playful and tricky nature of animals with words and clever musical accompaniment. . . a real family affair." [Dirty Linen]
Winner of the Notable Children's Recording Award, this disc "includes an incredible assortment of Native American legends, hilarious anecdotes, Appalachian tales, and spirited songs. Elliott offers listeners ways to use the cultural arts, storytelling, music, and cooking to more deeply experience, celebrate, and learn about the great outdoors." Includes the "Doodlebug Song."
You can order this CD directly from the publisher, Native Ground.
Classic recording by the British musical group showcases leader Ian Anderson's lyrics and folk-influenced compositions. Animals of all kinds are the inspiration for many of these rustic songs, such as "And The Mouse Police Never Sleeps," "Moths," "Rover," "One Brown Mouse," "Heavy Horses," and "Weathercock." No lullabies here, though. Behind these tributes to our fellow creatures lie poignant meditations on human nature. Heavy Horses is Anderson's celebration ofand lament fornatural living in the face of modernization.
Based in Nashville, Tennessee, Lambchop is an avant-garde rock ensemble led by singer-songwriter Kurt Wagner. In songs such as "The New Cobweb Summer," "Autumn's Vicar," "Caterpillar," and "Bugs," subtle electronic effects reinforce Wagner's observations of animal behaviorschirping crickets, weaving spiders, flitting birds, and nestling squirrelsto create a soundscape teeming with life. While the imagery might suggest a simple, pastoral existence, Wagner's melancholic tunes paint a somewhat more complicated picture. In the midst of this bustling, animal world sits Wagnercontemplating his emotionally turbulent domesticity, resigning himself to his own animal nature, and finding solace in the companionship of a dog: "the dog gives you the paw/you pat his head and you wipe his jaw/he's the only one who knew/(about) my blue wave."
While animal imagery runs throughout Anderson's most recent solo recording, the subject of these sensual, acoustic songs is the human animal in all its flaws and foibles. Includes "Sanctuary," a moving protest against the exploitation of children (in particular, child prostitution in Asia) and wild animals (trapped in "time-warp Victorian zoos").
Gwendolyn
first splashed into the world of popular music with "Freedom
of the Heart (Ooodily Ooodily)," the infectious
and deceptively childlike tune featured in the film Chuck
and Buck. While her talents are apparent in this banjo-driven
pop ditty, it doesn't prepare the listener for the stylistic range
and sophistication of the other songs on her debut CD Ultrasounds, a
collection of eclectic, neo-psychedelic, modern folk compositions.
An unusually inventive songwriter, Gwendolyn has a gift for combining
surrealism, humor, and emotional acuity with precise arrangements
that waste nary a note. Animal themes appear in several songs, most
notably "Snail Trail," "Trains," and "Insect Perspective." In "Seahorse," perhaps
the disc's finest track, Gwendolyn contemplates nothing less than
the evolution of our own species: "The sound of the seahorse in my
mind, awake with yesterday. . . before I was sent here
in this state. Why? . . . Why fears and tests? Why consciousness?
Why human?"
"The world may or may not be ready for a musical celebration of . . . worms, but Eugene Chadbourne certainly is. . . . For all his joyful eccentricity, Chadbourne is a first-rate instrumentalist, and this disc displays his talents well. [Guest musician] Ted Reichman plays some gorgeous piano on 'Song for My Ant Lion.'
"Much of Worms With Strings seems to have been recorded by Chadbourne on a porch in Greensboro, North Carolina, and the recording has a kind of verité feel that sometimes reminded me of old field recordings of Mississippi John Hurt or Blind Lemon Jefferson. . . . This is raw and mostly effective music; not for everyone, perhaps, but powerful stuff just the same." [Robert Spencer, All About Jazz]