So let’s talk about Infinity Sock.

Yeah! What’s going on with it? (Laughs)

One thing I’ve always enjoyed about the Gustafer records is that they’re not only mellow — as you often point out — but that they’re also gentle, which makes a big difference, I think. And I also appreciate the fact that they don’t pander musically, either to kids or to parents.

I don’t — yeah, I don’t think that does any good, to pander. It’s not in my nature — I’m not even thinking about whether I’m doing it or not. Maybe I sensed that kind of thing in music as a kid, so I try and avoid it now.

I know you’ve said that you spent a lot of time listening to AM radio when you were a kid, and that influence is pretty apparent in your work. But do you remember listening to any music geared specifically to kids?

Yeah, I actually did, and the older my son gets, the more my memories of it resurface. I had a lot of the old book-and-record combos from Disney, like Br’er Rabbit and Snow White, and Alvin and the Chipmunks. And the music from Sesame Street and The Electric Company, of course. There was a lot of great music on those shows.

A few of the early Sesame Street albums were reissued recently. My kids love them — and like you, I have a lot of strong memories of those songs. I was surprised by how many lyrics I remembered, and it’s been a learning experience, because to my memory, the ’70s and ’80s were kind of a wasteland for kids’ music, but so many of those Sesame Street songs were just brilliant.

I guess a lot of the really good stuff was from the late ’60s and early ’70s. And of course, a lot of the songs I remember are themes to TV shows, like The Rockford Files. I hear those songs now and I feel like it’s time for me to go to bed. (Laughs)

The common thread between your music and the stuff we’re talking about is that, in contrast to a lot of what’s released now, it isn’t saturated with sensory input — it doesn’t get up in your face. It gives you room to experience it.

I think a lot of the stuff you’re talking about is probably a bit focus-grouped. Everyone’s afraid of losing kids’ attention, so they approach it from the mindset of, “Okay, we have to keep things moving at a fast pace — today’s kids, you know, ADD!” But I think the opposite is true.

My approach largely developed accidentally on purpose, if that makes any sense. I started putting these projects together and seeing people’s reactions to them, and pretty much unanimously, people say they love that they’re mellow. I hear “My kid who’s normally hyper sits calmly through Gustafer DVDs.” I’m not a child psychologist, but it seems like maybe that’s what kids need. They don’t need the fast-paced stuff — not that it’s bad, necessarily, but people frequently assume that it’s necessary.

What’s the inspiration for your lyrical approach? Sometimes it seems like you’re the Mike Doughty of kids’ music — that words or titles are used simply because they sound good together. A song like “Wisconsin Poncho” from Infinity Sock, for instance.

Sometimes, yes. And actually, it’s funny that you chose “Wisconsin Poncho” as an example, because that’s something I came up with in 1988, when I was a teenager. I had a friend I used to do funny songs with, and we did a song about a porcupine that had a spoken-word part, talking about woodland creatures. We were definitely absurdists. One line from that part talked about a Wisconsin poncho, and it’s just stuck in my head for 20 years. Anyway, since Gustafer is in Minnesota, and his Infinity Sock adventure takes him out of the state, that phrase just sort of naturally reappeared.

But of course, a title is very valuable. I do this a lot — when I’m going to make an album, I choose the song titles first. I put together 10 titles, and think, “these all sound good to me,” and the stories flow from that. Like, for instance, “Panther Stamp Pants.” That’s just fun to say, so I’m like, “What’s it going to be about? Well, the pterodactyl is really into clothing…”

So with Infinity Sock, did you approach the songs with a narrative arc already established?

Yeah, actually, I’ve had the story around since 2006 or so. It was a standalone story, and I kind of tinkered with it for a long time, and then my wife Rachel and I — we started this business around people’s fondness for our DVDs, and then we thought we could turn this into a book. That’s how Infinity Sock was originally supposed to be released. But we realized that the publishing world is a whole other monster, so we decided to do it this way, just to get the story out.

So I wrote the songs by choosing points in the story, and I built the music around where they’d go. The cool thing about the sock is that it serves a different purpose for all these different groups of characters, so the storytelling possibilities were limitless, and I could just mold the music around it. Like with “Beehive” — I mean, what’s a sock doing in a beehive? Well, the bees are musicians, and they use it as a curtain for their shows. Things fit together that way.

About how long does it take you to put these together? You aren’t just performing the music, but you’re creating the illustrations that go along with it.

I’d say two or three weeks per song. And that’s just putting the illustrations to paper.

And do you illustrate as you go along with the music, or are they separate processes?

I record the songs first, and make sure I’m happy with the music, and confident that each song is strong enough to go on the DVD, and then I start drawing. What I do is sit down with a lyric sheet, and it’ll have maybe 20 lines of lyrics, and I’ll storyboard it out in a notebook with pencil — just sketch it out roughly. Once I have that, I’ll get out the good paper, draw it for real, and scan it into Photoshop — after which Rachel adds the template with the lyrics and the plaque and all that stuff. Once all that’s ready, we send it off to the animator, who sends us previews, and usually after two or three rounds of edits, it’s finished. The whole process takes almost a year.

I know that for most performers, by the time an album is done, they’re often pretty tired of the music and ready to move on to the next project. I imagine that because you’re moving through each Gustafer release twice, essentially, it must make you a little antsy sometimes.

Well, let me tell you — the music for Infinity Sock was finished in December of 2009, so…yeah. I’ve already started drawing the next DVD, and I have the next 10 songs recorded, and the two following DVDs planned out on my board.

Yeah, it takes awhile to do these, and for me, I need to be constantly going. Otherwise, I do get antsy.

I spoke with Michael Rachap of Readeez recently, and he talked about having constructed an elaborate mythology around those characters, and his plans to slowly explore their world over the course of many releases. It seems like you’re on a similar path with Gustafer.

It’s true, and my main obstacle is just time. I have more ideas than I can manage, and I want to get them all out. The next DVD is written, the next two are conceived — it’s like, I already know the owl has its own song. It isn’t for two more projects, but I want to do it now! (Laughs) I like the owl. I want the owl to have his time to shine. You know, there’s Gustafer, you have Slim, and then there’s the pterodactyl — those are the three most solid, prominent characters. But I want there to be more. The owl has a whole story — the owl is married to a bear, but the relationship is strained because of their cultural differences. (Laughs)

To what do you attribute the surreal streak in your lyrics?

Um…issues of MAD magazine from the ’70s…Sid and Marty Krofft…do you remember those shows?

Of course! H.R. Pufnstuf!

Right, and Sigmund and the Sea Monsters, yeah. Definitely those MAD issues with Don Martin and Al Jaffee and Mort Drucker. But on the other side, there’s a little bit of a sentimental streak in my music that I think probably comes from Bil Keane, who does The Family Circus, and Charles Schulz. I don’t know — I’ve never thought about it like this before, but I think that stuff is definitely there.

All of which probably contributes to the unusual amount of crossover success you’ve had, especially as a live act — you’ve opened for some unexpected acts.

I think the thing is, this is just my music. This is the music I’ve always been making. It’s just that nobody really noticed until I added cartoon characters. The grand irony in all this is that I put out a record in 2003 called Dream in Green, and it had songs like “I’m from the Sun” and “Quite Easily Lost.” I paid publicists to push it, and did all kinds of things to try and get people to hear it, and I got like one review, from the Village Voice, and it was a bad review. They said it was generic or boring or whatever, and at that point, I thought maybe I should reevaluate.

It was Rachel who suggested going back and doing the children’s book I’d talked about. She saw the potential in all this. So I had these songs and put cartoons to them, and it evolved into DVDs, and the next thing I know, I’m opening for Wilco. I’m sitting there in the dressing room, waiting to go onstage, by myself, with just my drawings and my music, and I’m thinking to myself, “This is so weird.” And then the same thing happened with the Polyphonic Spree. All of a sudden, people were into my music, and I think it’s because I added cartoons.

It just puts the music in a different framework, a different context. The lyrics are in front of you, which changes the experience, so…maybe I just kind of happened into something that’s natural for me. Which is great, because I can keep doing it. I mean, Gustafer looked like a kids’ character, so I thought, “Well, I guess maybe this is kids’ music.” But it’s really just my music.

Occasionally, I’ll get people coming up to me at shows and saying, (stage whisper) “I think I like this more than my kids!” I think it appeals to people like me — kids who grew up in the ’80s and ’90s, who saw a lot of bands in bars, and kind of cut their teeth on real alternative music. Maybe I’m talking to those people with the music part, but there’s also a strong element of nostalgia in the kids’ part. You know? They’re catchy pop songs with nostalgic-looking cartoons.

Visit Gustafer (and Morgan) at his official site — and just in case you were wondering, yes, Infinity Sock is available for pre-order now.

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• Dadnabbit Interview: Michael Rachap of Readeez (dadnabbit.com)

Given its humble origins, the DVD is about as endearingly low-budget as you might expect, despite a NASCAR-type block of corporate logos emblazoned on the back of the case. Nothing too flashy, just Farmer Jason kicking it up with bunches of his little fans (as well as a handful of special guests, including Webb Wilder, Todd Snider, and ex-Scorcher Warner E. Hodges). For kids raised on overcaffienated Nickelodeon fare, I suppose It’s a…Farmer Jason! might seem a little too slow, but that speaks to a defect in current children’s programming trends, not a weakness in the DVD; Ringenberg is an enormously appealing host, and the songs — which include titles like “Punk Rock Skunk,” “Ode to a Toad,” “Potato Rap,” and “The Tractor Goes Chug Chug Chug” — are tons of instantly memorable fun. It’s simple, sweet, and positive — in other words, everything you want in entertainment for your young ones. Check out samples and buy the DVD (for the low, low price of $16.75) at Farmer Jason’s official site

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Trout Fishing in America – My Name Is Chicken Joe (2009, Secret Mountain)
purchase this book/CD/DVD (Amazon)

Trout Fishing in America celebrates its 30th anniversary this year — and the fact that you most likely didn’t know that, but have never heard a lick of the roots duo’s music, explains why they won’t be commemorating the occasion with a lavish boxed set, sold-out arena tour, or all-star tribute record. They will, however, be taking a fond look back at some of the most popular songs from their multiple forays into kids’ music with My Name Is Chicken Joe, a beautifully made ersatz best-of that sets their song “Chicken Joe” alongside some eye-catching illustrations from artist Stéphane Jorisch to create a handsome, albeit plot-free, book to go along with the 11-track CD. And if that isn’t enough to make you whip out your wallet, there’s also a DVD containing a “Chicken Joe” music video of sorts.

If you’re a member of the Dirty Linen crowd, you’re no doubt already very familiar with Trout Fishing in America, but if you aren’t yet among the enlightened, My Name Is Chicken Joe functions as a perfect gateway into their children’s music. Though it cherry-picks old favorites from the catalog, Joe feels as cohesive as a really well-made new album. The songs are all as wonderful as you’d expect from a band that’s earned four Grammy nominations, all grounded solidly in deceptively simple folk arrangements and topped off with gentle, positive messages about kindness, personal identity, friendship, and family. (There are a couple of detours into mildly negative territory with “Why I Pack My Lunch” and “Boiled Okra and Spinach,” but they’re about having to choke down the food your parents pick for you, and who can’t sympathize with that?)

A lot of kids’ records claim to contain music that parents can enjoy even when their children aren’t around, but My Name Is Chicken Joe really is that kind of album. Songs like “My Best Day,” “Something Sweet,” and “Count on Me” are worth having in your collection no matter how old you are. If you’re any kind of fan of roots music — and I’m talking stripped-down bluegrass stuff as well as AAA favorites like John Hiatt — or you know kids who might be, purchase this set without fear the next time a birthday or other special occasion rolls around.

There’s been a Horse Whisperer, a Dog Whisperer and a Ghost Whisperer. I would like to add another to that growing list: The Baby Whisperer. He exists, he’s ready to share with you his secrets and his name is Dr. Harvey Karp.

Dr. Karp is a pediatrician in Los Angeles who has pioneered a better way of understanding and coping with babies and toddlers through his DVD and books The Happiest Baby on the Block and The Happiest Toddler on the Block. He first came to my attention, in of all places, an IMAX theater before the premiere of 300.

And both are worth every single penny.

Daddy a Go Go – Come On, Get Happy: The Best of Daddy a Go Go, Volume 1 (2009, Boyd’s Tone)
purchase this album (Amazon)

I had never heard of Daddy a Go Go, the kiddie-rockin’ alter ego adopted by singer/songwriter/stay-at-home-dad John Boydston, before opening the envelope that contained Come On Get Happy, but that’s just simple ignorance on my part: Boydston has released six albums of kids’ music since 1998, won multiple awards, and earned press in publications like Newsweek and the Washington Post. For lucky album number seven, Boydston has decided to collect and remaster 15 of his greatest “hits,” including “Daddy’s Diaper Blues,” “I Think I Might Be a Dog,” “Nana Nana Boo Boo,” and “Pink Floyd Saves Hugh Manatee,” a song so stupidly titled I almost threw away the CD.

I’m glad I didn’t, because Come On, Get Happy is really pretty charming. My friend the Lovely Mrs. Davis has designated Boydston a member of the “goofy dads” genre, which is true, I guess, except that I find Daddy a Go Go a lot less goofy than much of the kids’ music I listen to. And really, pretty much the entire genre is goofy — some of it is obnoxiously overt, and some of it is less caffeinated, but I don’t think I’ve listened to a single children’s album that didn’t make liberal use of cornball humor. In that context, Come On, Get Happy is really pretty sedate; musically, I’d liken it more to NRBQ than most children’s music (and yes, I’m aware that the Q has released a kids’ record). Given that I’m a huge NRBQ fan, it should come as no surprise that I really enjoyed most of these songs (notable, unsurprising exception: “Pink Floyd Saves Hugh Manatee”) — they have the pleasantly lo-fi production aesthetic of a lot of the great old indie rock records of the ’80s, which is weird, given that Boydston didn’t start recording them until the ’90s, but whatever. The album also highlights Boydston’s taste in covers, which ranges from the obvious (the title track) to the wonderfully semi-obscure (Harry Nilsson’s “Best Friend”).

Daddy a Go Go isn’t for everyone; my wife, for instance, hated Come On, Get Happy. But if you’re anything like me, and you find yourself having to stomach an awful lot of sugar with your kids’ music, these songs may be just the slightly rockin’ relief you seek. Check out this video for “School Bus Driver (The Stop Song)” — not, incidentally, on Come On, Get Happy — and then hear clips from the album at the purchase link above.

The Baby Grands – The Baby Grands (2008, Backspace)

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As has been discussed many times here at Dadnabbit, we no longer live in the dark old days of children’s music, when parents had slim choices for audio entertainment, and most of them involved sitting through untold hours of synth-laden arrangements and cutesy-poo lyrics. We’ve entered a more enlightened era, one in which artists who cater to kids often try to target adult tastes too — but even now, there’s a pretty stark split in kids’ music; some artists try to infuse their music with an approximation of the manic energy of youth, while others take a more thoughtful, laid back approach.

Atlanta’s Baby Grands fit the latter description, and even if their press materials overplay their hand a bit — whoever came up with the phrase “manna from kid music heaven” may wish to consider trying decaf — the trio’s self-titled debut still manages to blend a kid’s-eye view with smart pop songwriting with admirable, uncommon skill. Singer Donny Todd, multi-instrumentalist Ben Rowell, and lyricist Marc Castelo (whose presence makes the Baby Grands the kidscene equivalent of Procol Harum or the Dead, I guess) set out to create what they call “Kids’ music that’s not jus for kids,” and they get about as close as you could reasonably expect; you’re probably never going to reach for “Panda Rock” or “Diggin’ a Hole to China” when the little ones aren’t around, but (as I can attest from personal experience) you may very well find yourself humming the melody to “Sugar Makes Me Loco.”

What it lacks in wacky sound effects and silly gags, The Baby Grands more than makes up for with themes that will be relevant to its key demographic — stuff like the alphabet (“Why Is It W?”), the planets (“Pluto”), hopes and dreams (“Dream Big”), and the family pet (“Wet Nose Friend,” which is not, as I’d initially assumed, about my year-old son). It’s all uplifting, sweetly melodic stuff, with all the replay value you’d hope for from a band that got its start from a chance meeting at a playgroup. Try some samples at the Baby Grands’ MySpace page, or have a look at the good time had by all at their record release party last November: