George Donaldson in The Harp and Fiddle Pub, Pittsburgh, PA, 12-8-13

It’s been five years since my dad turned on PBS just in time to hear Scottish balladeer George Donaldson singing the touching tribute The Old Man, which served as his introduction to the group Celtic Thunder, whose music quickly took my family by storm. On December 8th, we had the opportunity to see George in concert in the intimate setting of the Harp and Fiddle pub in Pittsburgh. My parents, my fiancé Will and I made the trek, stopping along the way for lunch with the dear friends responsible for my meeting Will. As the only member of our quartet not intimately familiar with George’s music, he looked forward to becoming better acquainted with this accomplished singer-songwriter.

The concert was set to start at 7:30 p.m., but we arrived shortly before 5, and shortly after 5, we were allowed to go in. We were led to a table for four right up against the stage; Will had managed to secure the best seats in the house. Shortly after we arrived, George took the stage for a sound check and performed a shortened version of I Wish I Were Back Home in Derry, which shares its melody with Gordon Lightfoot’s The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. At that point, we were left to order off the special George Donaldson Concert menu that had been drawn up, so the four of us shared pretzels, shepherd’s pie and fish and chips and awaited the beginning of the concert.

Having previously seen Celtic Thunder’s Ryan Kelly and Neil Byrne together in a similar format, I expected that George’s concert would proceed in a similar fashion. It basically did, except that, as there was no one onstage for him to banter with, he interacted directly with audience members more often. He also had a general narrative scope to his concert, though he made several joking comments to encourage the appearance of complete spontaneity. While he did take some audience requests and probably made some last-minute song decisions, several of his selections flowed together naturally, particularly the segment chronicling a life-changing experience for him as a performer.

He detailed a time when he had started working for the money rather than the passion of performing. He had recently seen Saving Private Ryan, so when he sang The Green Fields of France - a ballad about the futility of war later recorded by Celtic Thunder as one of its most moving ensemble pieces – it really struck a chord with him, and he felt his passion returning. Later that night, he got into a conversation with one of the few people present for his concert, and the audience member requested he sing a Harry Chapin song. Upon learning that George didn’t know who that was, he begged him to buy one of his albums and even gave him the money to pay for it. George later did just that and was transfixed by the storytelling genius of this singer-songwriter whose songs were usually too long to be heard on the radio.

This story was punctuated by his performances of Green Fields of France and A Song for Harry Chapin, his lengthy and touching tribute to the late singer. I was particularly hoping he would sing that song, since Harry is Will’s all-time favorite singer and I knew he would especially appreciate it. He followed it up with a performance of two of Harry’s songs, starting with the tender Tangled Up Puppet, a touching address to Harry’s growing daughter that is particularly meaningful for George, whose only child is a daughter, as well as for me, especially with my dad right across the table. He also performed Harry’s most widely known song, Cat’s in the Cradle, another bittersweet song about parent-child relationships.

The deeply personal thread that tied these songs together was present throughout the evening as he casually chatted in that rumbling brogue, laughter in his eyes even as he filled the set with tragic tunes prompting him to say, “If you came here to be cheered up, you’ve come to the wrong place.” Of course, that was an exaggeration, and uplifting or cheerful songs were not in short supply. He sang several songs of his own composition, including a tribute to his beloved wife Carrie, a recollection about his early days as a musician in Burlington, a speculative ode inspired by an autistic fan and the title song of his second album.

He also covered many well-known folk-rock and pop songs, starting with James Taylor’s Fire and Rain. Others included Elton John’s Your Song, Simon and Garfunkel’s Homeward Bound and John Denver’s Leavin’ on a Jet Plane. None of these included much in the way of background, but he performed The Who’s Pinball Wizard as a demonstration that he could rock with the best of them, and he expressed his admiration for Jim Croce, another musician who, like Harry Chapin, specialized in story-songs and died young in a tragic accident. Croce merited two songs, Time in a Bottle and Bad Bad Leroy Brown, which Ryan performed as part of Celtic Thunder’s It’s Entertainment.

Other more folk-oriented selections included Peter Hames’ Ordinary Man, the song of an enraged and disenfranchised worker and Ralph McTell’s Grand Affair, as well as several songs he had performed, either solo or as a group song with Celtic Thunder, including Rita McNeil’s Working Man, the first song of the night on which he openly encouraged the audience to sing along; Caledonia, a traditional tribute to Scotland; The Old Man; Galway Girl; the gentle Scarlet Ribbons (For Her Hair); the Piano Man-esque Red Rose Café; and his always-rousing cover of The Proclaimers’ I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles), which ended the concert.

Throughout the whole concert, it was just him and his guitar, and he took no breaks except for the occasional pause for a sip of Diet Coke. He was warm and personable and occasionally snarky, and the music of his accent was pure magic, even if he often joked that we probably couldn’t understand half of what he was saying. Everyone in the audience of perhaps a hundred or so seemed to be having a wonderful time as he shared his anecdotes and insights and the rippling majesty of his resonant singing voice and superior guitar-playing.

While the only thing available for sale after the show was George’s first album, which we already have, he graciously stayed long enough that anyone who wanted an autograph or a photo with him could get one. We opted for the latter, giving us a wonderful memento of an evening of superlative musicianship and balladry. It was a wonderful opportunity for my parents and me, who have treasured George’s artistry for years, and a perfect way for Will to immerse himself in his work. In fact, toward the end of the concert, he passed me a note to say that he’d never enjoyed a concert more than this one. It really is the most personal way to experience a great musician, and I’m so glad that the lads of Celtic Thunder have begun to branch out into these more intimate side-projects. If you love songs that tell a story and musicians who pour their souls into their performances, I hope you will have the chance to see one of George’s pub concerts. He doesn’t do many of them in the United States, but for a very reasonable price, you can get an evening of warm fellowship and exceptional music.

Blake Shelton Offers a Very Country Yuletide Album With Cheers, It's Christmas

Blake Shelton is not an artist I know much about, but based on my first impression of him with the recently released Cheers, It’s Christmas, I would certainly not be opposed to checking out some of his other music. This is an album firmly within the country genre, so that could be a turn-off to some, but for those who enjoy country or are at least open to it, Shelton has created a holiday treasure.

Several of the songs on this album are extra-peppy Christmas classics like the Miranda Lambert duet Jingle Bell Rock, the short, tambourine-laden Winter Wonderland, and Blue Christmas, which is unusually chipper and features a nifty saxophone solo. On the slower side of things are the piano-driven White Christmas, the leisurely Christmas Song and I’ll Be Home for Christmas and the mellow acoustic guitar-driven Silver Bells, a duet with Xenia. Right in between is Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!, which is upbeat but cozy.

Impressively, nearly half of the songs on this album are new or at least not the standard Christmas fare. There’s a New Kid in Town isn’t original to this album, but it is a newer song, and a lovely one at that. This duet with Kelly Clarkson is reverent and slow-paced as it speaks of the wonder of Christ’s arrival. Michael Buble joins Shelton for a Christmasized version of the Canadian crooner’s hit song Home; with just a few adjustments, the mellow ballad becomes such a natural cozy Christmas tune that it seems a wonder it didn’t start out that way.

Oklahoma Christmas is a charming duet with Reba McIntyre. Fiddles add to the down-home feel of this song about longing for an Oklahoma holiday while being stranded in a snowstorm in Tennessee. Time for Me to Come Home, a duet with co-writer Dorothy Shackleford, is romantic in tone, having to do with the yearning to return to a loved one at Christmas. As with Oklahoma, the fiddle really adds to the homey feeling of the track.

On the whimsical end of things, we have the fun Santa’s Got a Choo Choo Train. With fast-paced guitar to simulate the rhythm of the rails and a train whistle as a more overt reminder, it’s an old-fashioned story-song about Santa using a train instead of a sleigh and is one of my favorite tracks. Finally, there’s The Very Best Time of Year, a low-key track he performs with Trypta-Phunk. Its domestic images of comfort radiate general goodwill for all as the album closes.

All told, this is a solid Christmas album with a nice mix of new and classic, sacred and secular. Anyone who doesn’t mind such an unapologetically country album should be able to find something to enjoy here.

Cee Lo's Magic Moment Lives Up to Its Title

I know next to nothing about Cee Lo Green aside from the fact that he released a foul-mouthed but oh-so-catchy kiss-off song that I’ve heard several times with altered lyrics. Considering the bleep-worthiness of this song, I wasn’t at all sure I’d like his Christmas album, Cee Lo’s Magic Moment, so it ended up being one of the sweetest musical surprises of the season for me.

Cee Lo has a deep, soulful voice that makes him well suited to R and B-style Christmas classics such as What Christmas Means to Me, first recorded by Stevie Wonder; Donny Hathaway’s funky This Christmas; and Charles Brown’s soul-stirring Please Come Home for Christmas. There’s a sense of passion and sincerity in his delivery that really grabbed me and held my attention.

Songs of romance are plentiful here, and he fares similarly well with those. His rendition of Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas is peppy and includes some vocal acrobatics, as does the duet Baby It’s Cold Outside; while it starts off fairly sedate, he and Christina Aguilera soon let their voices go wild as they sing over top of each other. Meanwhile, the brass-heavy Merry Christmas, Baby is a fun number that ties into the Christmas album of Rod Stewart, who guests here alongside Trombone Shorty.

The smooth but percussive Christmas Song is warmly relaxing, while The River is melancholy without being morose and his version of White Christmas is one of the bounciest I have heard. The rollicking keyboards are the real stars of Run Rudolph Run, but the vocals are great in a retro rock kind of way.

Silent Night has a truly reverent Gospel feel to it, with faint choral backing to a gorgeous lead vocal. After I listened to the album, I watched the video, which features a lanky Santa and several scantily clad women in red and white running in slow motion; the bizarre spectacle certainly detracts from the beauty of the music and the sense of sincerity, which is a shame. Thankfully, there is no such video for Mary, Did You Know?, which has rich instrumental backing and an even more soulful sound to it.

Cee Lo’s two most unusual tracks still are not wholly original, but they are a lot of fun. He teams up with the brilliant Straight No Chaser for a hugely entertaining rendition of You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch that is loaded with harmonic surprises. His recitation of several lengthy passages from the book adds to the enjoyment as well.

All I Need Is Love is weird and wacky, drawing from the Beatles’ All You Need Is Love with a beat straight out of Mambo No. 5 and a strong sampling of Muppet classic Mahna Mahna. Several Muppets have a solo line or two, so picking them out is a lot of fun, even though it takes a few listens to catch everything. Make sure to listen through to the end to allow perpetually cranky Statler and Waldorf their opportunity to weigh in, even though their assessment naturally differs from mine. This isn’t an easy track to sing along with, but it’s loads of fun, and it also has some nice sentiments about the joy of togetherness this time of year.

I’m still not entirely sure where Cee Lo is coming from, especially after seeing that Silent Night video, but his album is a joy to listen to nonetheless. If you’re into soulful renditions of Christmas classics, you should give it a spin too.

Christmas with Scotty McCreery is Cozy Indeed

Last year, I got more excited about American Idol than I have in years. That was because of Scotty McCreery, the sweet-mannered teen with a deep, old-fashioned country voice who wound up taking the crown. I enjoyed his debut album last fall, and I was thrilled to find out that he had a Christmas album out this year. As I expected, I found Christmas With Scotty McCreery to be a delight.

McCreery includes a good mix of the sacred and secular. Among the more lightweight tracks are the two-minute-long, fiddle- and piano-heavy Let It Snow; the bluesy Jingle Bells; the fast-paced, electric guitar-backed Holly Jolly Christmas; and the jazzy, piano-driven Winter Wonderland. These are fun, lively and ideal for clapping or even dancing along. So is the less familiar Santa Claus Is Back in Town, a rockin’, bluesy Elvis cover for which he adopts a different tone in imitation of the King of Rock and Roll.

On the solemn end of things is the reverent The First Noel, which is backed by acoustic guitar and occasional vocal harmonies and is marvelously mellow; Mary Did You Know?, a sincere if slightly too fast-paced rendition of this thoughtful examination of Mary; the leisurely The Christmas Song; and the nearly five-minute-long O Holy Night, which is very sedate and is augmented by the presence of the harp, not to mention my favorite, often-omitted verse.

Happily, this album also includes two originals. Christmas in Heaven, a lovely duet with Jenifer Wrinkle, is written from the perspective of someone recently bereaved who is observing the sights and sounds of the season and wondering what the departed loved one is experiencing. A gentle song backed by acoustic guitar, this would work well alongside Ryan Kelly’s Not Far Apart, which takes the perspective of the one in Heaven.

While that track is very sweet, I prefer Christmas Comin’ Round Again a peppy four-minute-long song about the tendency of Christmas to inspire reconciliation. With its heartfelt harmonies and its array of instruments including mandolin, accordion and tambourine, it’s a joy to listen to, and its point that “It’s time to let go and let the love in,” exemplified by several anecdotes about mended fences, is well taken.

I’ll admit I’m a little prejudiced when it comes to Scotty McCreery, as he’s one of those singers whose voice just melts me after a couple of notes. I think it’s clear, though, that this is a young man with a bright musical future, and I’m glad he didn’t dilly-dally in putting out his first Christmas album. I’d be happy to invite that low voice and bright spirit onto my stereo anytime, especially during this festive season.

John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John Reunite for Christmas

John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John made a great pair in Grease, so it stands to reason that they might do well to team up elsewhere too. Still, it surprised me to see that they had decided to collaborate on a new Christmas album. This Christmas is not an album I would listen to repeatedly, but it is fun to listen to these two sing together and imagine them as Danny and Sandy decades into the future.

The album consists mostly of traditional Christmas songs, a couple of which, unsurprisingly, have a predominant romantic theme to them. Baby It’s Cold Outside makes for a fun duet, particularly since Newton-John is the one imploring Travolta to stay rather than the other way around. While the pace feels overly slow to me, the flirtatious bickering fits these two well, while the brass-heavy This Christmas, which features a lengthy piano solo, presents a more united expectation of a cheery Christmas.

Several of the songs have a jazzy feel to them, particularly the peppier numbers such as the two-minute-long Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree, which includes a smooth sax solo by Kenny G, and Winter Wonderland, which includes Tony Bennett and the Count Basie Orchestra. Slower songs include the melancholy I’ll Be Home For Christmas, which is augmented by the presence of Barbra Streisand, and White Christmas, which includes the often-omitted introduction and resolves with some lovely harmonies.

Of the two, I would say that Travolta’s voice has held up much better than Newton-John’s, and his sounds particularly strong on Rat Pack-style numbers like The Christmas Waltz, which he performs by himself, and Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, in which he sounds much better in his solo lines than she does. Together, however, they fare very well, particularly in the cozy The Christmas Song, which concludes with them wishing each other a merry Christmas.

They also sound quite nice in conjunction with others. With James Taylor in Deck the Halls, they make a terrific trio, and they complement choruses of children and adults well on the Celtic-flavored Silent Night and the intriguing medley of Auld Lang Syne and Christmastime Is Here. While I don’t think the blend entirely works, the focus on nostalgia is present in both, and it makes for a memorable album closer.

OF course, given the parties involved, I was hoping there would be a song specifically written to emulate the feel of Grease, and that comes with I Think You Might Like It. This bouncy number does have a rockin’ 50s style to it, but it focuses on a couple who have already found domestic bliss and have just been separated from each other a while. It’s a nice song, but it doesn’t really stick out in my mind, and I doubt it will become a big radio hit.

Ultimately, this album delivered about what I thought it would. Sometimes it comes across as pretty campy, though it also is quite nice in places. If you’re looking for a true fusion of Grease and Christmas music, you’ll be disappointed, but as a sweet reunion between two old friends, This Christmas is worth a listen.

Originals Augment Colbie Caillat's Christmas in the Sand

My familiarity with pop songstress Colbie Caillat has mostly been limited to her effervescent hit single Bubbly, but that one song is fun enough that I was eager to see what her Christmas album would sound like. Entitled Christmas in the Sand, it’s upbeat and bouncy, and at least one of the four original songs seems like it has the potential to make a splash. If you’re looking for a sunny alternative to all of the wintry albums out this time of year, this isn’t a bad option.

Of course, that’s not to say that winter weather doesn’t come up in several of these songs. We’ve got the playful Baby, It’s Cold Outside, a duet with Gavin DeGraw; the leisurely The Christmas Song, which features Justin Young, a mandolin and sleigh bells; and the bouncy, choir-backed Winter Wonderland.

We’ve also got traditional Christmas elements like Santa Claus. Given the unfortunate fondness female pop singers seem to have for the avaricious Santa Baby, I’m not surprised to see that here, though I always consider that one skippable. More enjoyable is Santa Claus Is Coming to Town, which has an interesting rhythm, starting out slow and then becoming much more of a rock tune halfway through.

Other familiar tunes delve into the cozy elements of Christmas. I really like her take on Silver Bells, which features some nice music box-style accompaniment as well as harmonizing with herself, and the changing of the line “Christmastime in the city” to different locales such as “the country” and “Hawaii” adds to the sense that this is an album for those who don’t connect as much with the most prevalent Christmas images. Auld Lang Syne, with its acoustic guitar, fiddle and choral backing, makes for a nice end to the album, while the peppy, romantic Merry Christmas, Baby, a duet with Brad Paisley, is a fine beginning.

Most interesting, though, are the original songs, and I was impressed that Caillat included four, a full third of the tracks. The title track includes sleigh bells but discusses Christmas on the beach, proclaiming, “I saw Santa in his bathing suit!” The tone seems rather risque to me, and it’s probably my least favorite of the four because of all the innuendo, but it’s also fun to think of these figures commonly associated with snow hanging out on the beach. Also on the slightly naughtier end of things is Mistletoe, a plea for romantic reconciliation which isn’t strictly new but which Caillat co-wrote.

I prefer Every Day Is Christmas, a four-and-a-half-minute-long love song along the same lines as Neil Diamond’s You Make It Feel Like Christmas. “Every day is Christmas as long as every day you are mine,” she declares in this choral-backed pop-rock ballad. My favorite track, though, is Happy Christmas, which lists of all the stuff associated with Christmas before taking an opposite stance to Santa Baby. “Maybe we worry too much about wishing and not enough about giving,” she muses. This endearing track espouses random acts of kindness and general goodwill, and for its refreshing message, it’s the one I most hope to hear on the radio.

Caillat has a unique voice that just seems to exude happiness, so I’m glad that she decided to release an album in a genre so marked by happy music. The fact that her father produced the album adds to the sense of authenticity that particularly comes from her self-penned songs. While I would have liked to hear a more personal touch on some of the other songs, this would make a charming gift for those who already enjoy her laid-back style.

Disney Offers a Nice Mix of Christmas Classics With a Few New Tunes

We've moved into full-on Christmas mode in my house this year, so when I recalled that yesterday was Mickey Mouse's birthday, a Disney Christmas album seemed like a good way to celebrate. So it was that we stumbled upon Disney's Family Christmas Collection, a group of 20 songs befitting the season.

Many of the songs here just have a pleasant, generic feel to them. Some have a peppy kid's chorus and sometimes an adult soloist in the tradition of many classic Disney recordings. Songs in this vein include Frosty the Snowman, Joy to the World and We Wish You a Merry Christmas. Most of the tracks are quite short, ranging from about a minute to two and a half minutes, which keeps things moving along quickly and almost guarantees that if you don't like the current song, you'll soon find a song that you do like.

The album isn't especially well mixed, as the first batch of songs generally has a much more upbeat feel, while the second batch is more sedate. Still, this could be handy, as kids might prefer the first half and adults the second. Hark! The Herald Angels Sing and Winter Wonderland are both tracks that appear earlier on the album but better fit the tone of the second half, as they are short choral arrangements with plenty of harmony. Other tracks in this style include the serene Bring a Torch Jeannette, Isabella, the madrigalesque Carol of the Bells and the reverent O Come All Ye Faithful.

Then there are the traditional songs that highlight individual singers. My favorite of these is probably Jolly Old St. Nicholas, which is performed by Anndi McAfee, whose childlike voice is sweet, strong and perfectly suited to the innocence of the narrator. Though I didn't realize this initially, she voiced Cera the triceratops in several sequels to The Land Before Time, a staple of my childhood.  Catherine Lucille's lovely version of Silent Night, backed by an "ooh"-ing chorus, is one of the album's longest tracks at nearly four minutes in length. Another is Chris Martin's slightly Celtic-tinged What Child Is This? Meanwhile, Terry Wood's a cappella rendition of Away in a Manger is just over a minute long.

Other songs seem to be new. The album concludes with Martin's touching Angel Time, which has to do with the idea that we are all observed and protected by angels. On the sillier end of things is Rayvon's Santa Rap, a beatbox-heavy rap that deals with the distribution of toys to kids. My definite favorite song along these lines here is Rare Old Christmas, an old-timey, pipe-laden song performed by Ed Miller, who sounds like a charming elderly Irish pub denizen as he offers a benediction to listeners, wishing them laughter and the joy of music.

Of course, it would be disappointing to listen to an album in honor of Mickey if the mouse himself didn't put in a few appearances. He, Minnie and Goofy are an integral part of the bouncy Jingle Bells and Deck the Halls, and they also chime in on Here Comes Santa Claus. Donald is a bit quieter on this album, perhaps because of his poor enunciation skills, but he's right in the thick of things on the sound effects-laden Sleigh Ride. The more prominent duck, however, is Ludwig Von Drake, who sings the only unique Christmas song that involves the Disney characters. That would be the very entertaining The Science of the Season, which attempts to explain such phenomena as flying reindeer and Santa squeezing into chimneys but ultimately chalks much of it up to magic.

This album includes 20 tracks but is only 45 minutes long, so it really is fast-paced. Plenty of certified Christmas classics appear here, though, and most of them are quite straightforward. While I generally prefer a little more personality and comedy in a novelty Christmas album, the more general tone of most of these tracks makes it fitting for background music at a party, and if anyone listening closely happens to recognize Mickey, Minnie, Goofy, Donald or Drake, that should just be more reason to smile.

Peter Yarrow and Paul Stookey Celebrate 50 Years Together in Chautauqua, NY, 7-27-12

Six years ago, my parents and I went to see fabled folk trio Peter (Yarrow), (Noel) Paul (Stookey) & Mary (Travers) at the Chautauqua Institution on July 28, the day after Mom’s birthday. Though she and Dad had attended one of Paul’s solo concerts, they’d never seen the three together, and I’d never seen any of them live. It was a landmark concert for all three of us, and I’m so glad we went then, since Mary, already weakened at that point from an extended battle with leukemia, died three short years later. This year, Peter and Paul scheduled a return visit to Chautauqua, this time falling directly on Mom’s birthday. We planned to attend, knowing that Mary’s absence would be deeply felt but equally certain that the duo would be just as potent as the trio.

With the date almost upon us, I noticed an article indicating that Peter and Paul would be at the Chautauqua Bookstore at 1 p.m. signing their new picture book. I suggested to Dad that we go meet them and get a book signed for Mom, who had to work that day. He was game, so we started our folkie adventures early that day. After being delayed by road work and confusion over where to go for the passes that would allow us entry into the gated Chautauqua Institution, we got in and arrived at the bookstore with minutes to spare.

Dad and I quickly purchased books, but then we overheard a clerk saying that the guests of honor had just gotten off the plane in Buffalo. We asked him, and he confirmed that they wouldn’t arrive for an hour or two, so we went next door, where we enjoyed an excellent lunch of lobster bisque and sweet potato waffle fries and bumped into a friend who informed us that he was there for the lecture by comparative religion scholar Karen Armstrong.

We contemplated going to the lecture too if the bookstore told us to come back at 3; they did, but we were having trouble finding it, and we decided it would be cutting it too close anyway, so we opted for meandering through the grounds and checking out the amphitheater and nearby shops. By 2:30, I was ready to get out of the heat, and I was worried if we wandered too far, we’d end up missing something. So I proposed we return to the bookstore, where we browsed until just before 3, when Dad hailed me from across the store and said, “I think we’re missing it!”

I assumed at first that meant that there had been further delays and that we would miss it because we had to head back to Erie by 4:30. Happily this was not the case, but frustratingly what he meant was that Peter and Paul were out in front of the bookstore singing and nobody had announced their arrival or noted that they would be appearing outdoors instead of in. Considering we’d been there over an hour and a half before they got there, I was quite put out to miss most of their mini-concert and was wishing we’d sat out in the park instead, but the book signing was the main event, so we got in line and listened to these seasoned troubadours banter with each other and their fans.

One good thing about winding up late to the party was that there were bolder fans in front of us who set a precedent by requesting a photo with the duo, which I probably wouldn’t have had the nerve to do unless someone else had done it first. They responded with grace and good humor, and I ended up with a wonderful photo of myself between the two of them, which followed a brief and not very eloquent confession of my lifelong fandom and gratitude for their positive impact on the world and on me.

Both were very congenial as they signed It’s Raining, It’s Pouring to me and Day is Done to Mom, along with a birthday greeting, and Paul postulated that Mom must have had something to do with my enthusiasm for the trio. It was Dad, though, who had the more memorable interview, simply by virtue of his holding the Puff the Magic Dragon pop-up book.

Peter became very animated as soon as he saw that book; I got the impression it was the first copy of it that he had seen at this signing. He proceeded to gently sing the song, then interject his explanation of the mechanisms on each page, excitedly saying that he was showing Dad “something that you’ve never seen before,” which I assume was a bit of a nod to Paul’s Wedding Song, which was written for Peter’s wedding.

Then as he neared the end of the book, he asked, “Do you want to know the good part or the really good part?” He then turned to the last page and pointed out a little girl, and he did some unfolding in the far right bottom corner to reveal the included CD and the distant figure of a man, who he explained was Jackie all grown up watching his daughter play with Puff. It was beautiful to behold.

After that, we sat on a nearby bench and watched the interactions continue for an hour or so before making our way back home to surprise Mom with her book and tales and photographic evidence of our expedition. We headed out again shortly after 6 and picked up my grandma, then enjoyed a pleasant drive back to Chautauqua, arriving in time to catch the parking lot shuttle to the main gate and another shuttle to the amphitheater. We had about 20 minutes to take our places in the preferred seating section, which put us three rows back. We could hardly have asked for better seats.

The concert started promptly and with no announcements or opening acts. The lights simply dimmed and they walked out and performed Weave Me the Sunshine, an optimistic ditty that I remember well from the television special Puff the Magic Dragon. Following that, they immediately began to launch into welcoming the audience… at the same time. Snippets were intelligible amidst the babble, but it remained largely incomprehensible for a couple minutes before they stopped “harmonizing” and gave a more sedate greeting, with Peter wondering mischievously how long we sat there scratching our heads before we realized they were having us on. He also noted that this was the fourth time they’d performed at Chautauqua but the first without Mary, which made this concert feel particularly significant. He discussed the strangeness of taking the stage without her but said that he and Paul had observed in the past three years that during such concerts, “her presence is felt as much as her absence.”

He and Paul shared many anecdotes about Mary throughout the evening, from some of the tributes that were paid her at the memorial service at Manhattan’s Riverside Church (“where the communists go to congregate,” Peter quipped) and the times when they can hear her scolding them, particularly when Peter takes a long digression en route to singing a song. They also encouraged the audience to sing along and furnish her vocals to some degree, particularly with John Denver’s Leavin’ on a Jet Plane, which strongly showcased Mary during her life. Their warm respect for Mary was apparent every time they related a memory of her, whether it was the March on Washington or a moment late in her life, but that didn’t stop them from kidding around about her too. Like the best episodes of M*A*S*H, this concert moved swiftly from laugh-aloud funny to deeply moving and back again without missing a beat.

When I saw Peter, Paul & Mary in 2006, I had some expectations of what songs I was likely to hear, but much of it came as a surprise. That sense of curious anticipation was diminished this time around once I realized that nearly every song performed this time was also a part of the set list in 2006. That didn’t make the songs any less enjoyable, however. The zany mayhem of Tom Paxton’s The Marvelous Toy was amplified this time around without Mary there to keep “her boys” from getting carried away with sound effects. The audience joined so readily and heartily in with Puff the Magic Dragon that the absence of one voice could hardly be sensed in the midst of that communal moment. That song followed a lengthy introduction in which Peter bemoaned the absurdity of the popular notion that Puff is really about drugs, insisting that it is a lament about lost innocence and the depleted capacity to believe remarkable things once one ages. “You grow up,” he said, “and then what happens? Well, if you’re really lucky, someone takes you to Chautauqua, and you soak up the inspiration and you learn to believe in dragons again.”

Peter, who spent some time in Chautauqua as a boy, had only praise for the idyllic community meant as a haven of relaxation, intellectual stimulation and peaceful interaction. It is a location perfectly suited to the message the trio presented from its inception 50 years ago. This is a group synonymous with idealism and activism, and that spirit of social change came through loud and clear in many of evening’s songs. Because these were designed for group singing, the crowd was especially hearty for the exultant Have You Been to Jail for Justice?, the somber Where Have All the Flowers Gone?, the jubilant This Land Is Your Land and the galvanizing If I Had a Hammer and Blowin’ in the Wind. During the solo portion of the show, Peter also led the group in a medley that included This Little Light of Mine and Down By the Riverside.

Other songs included the classic Day Is Done, which was particularly neat to hear because it was the book I bought for Mom; the simple but powerful Garden Song; the gentle, wonder-filled It’s Magic, which so aptly describes the experience of seeing these folkies in concert; The Kid, a gorgeous ballad about an incurable dreamer; and Don’t Laugh at Me, an earnest plea against bullying.

We got a full two hours of music punctuated by an intermission that came after what appeared to be the end of the concert until Peter popped back out a minute later and said, “Oh, I forgot to tell you, that was just the first half of the show. We’ll be back in 15 minutes.” The final song of the night was Goodnight Irene, and the only songs I didn’t recognize were Paul’s solos, one a solemn reflection about looking at the big picture and the other a wry ode to a tiny New England town that he was commissioned to write. Entitled The Cabin Fever Waltz, this funny song had a strong resonance since a majority of the audience was from the Snow Belt. There was also the solo of another Paul, backup instrumentalist Paul Prestopino, who played several stringed instruments throughout the evening and treated the audience to a lively banjo tune. Meanwhile, Peter sang The Wedding Song, which was especially neat because he said it was the first time he had performed it on stage in the presence of Paul.

The feel of this concert was very similar to the last one. There were times when they seemed to be experimenting, just trying a different approach now that it was only two of them, and that usually led to a lot of funny banter. For instance, Peter proposed at one point during Puff that he lead the audience in the whirring sound from The Marvelous Toy while Paul sang the chorus, and he soon concluded that it didn’t work, though I suspect he never really thought it would in the first place. At a few points, Mary was especially missed as Peter or Paul led the audience while juggling a guitar; without an instrument to maneuver, she was often in a more convenient position to engage the crowd. Still, the sense of solidarity and community was every bit as strong this time around, and the level of interaction was unsurpassed by any other performers I have seen live.

After the concert, Peter stopped by the souvenir stand to sign books, and Paul may have dropped in later, but we didn’t stick around to find out. We smiled at Peter as we passed and made our way to the van, the music ringing in our ears and the inspiration coursing through our veins. This concert was billed as a 50th anniversary event, and it was one of the only joint concerts Peter and Paul did this year. I would love to attend a solo concert by either one sometime, but the magic that was part of the trio remains with the duo, and anyone who has the chance to see them perform together should seize it. These men are musical legends, and after an evening with them, the world starts to feel like a friendlier and more hopeful place.

Ryan Kelly and Neil Byrne's Acoustic By Candlelight Tour - 5-10-12, Buffalo, NY

St. Patrick’s Day was almost two months ago, but the other night, I felt like I celebrated it again when Ryan Kelly and Neil Byrne brought their Acoustic By Candlelight Tour to the Shannon Pub in Buffalo, NY. I consider myself a pretty ardent Celtic Thunder fan, but it’s been a year and a half since I saw the lads in concert for the second time, and so when I heard that Ryan and Neil would be appearing together so close to us, I was thrilled. Ryan is the first member of the group I really latched onto, while Neil has consistently impressed me with his outstanding musicianship. I knew that they would make a wonderful duo, and I relished the thought of seeing them perform together in such an intimate setting.

Mom and Dad were up for it, so we ordered the tickets. I figured that since it was such a small venue, the chances of their selling out quickly were good. Thus, I didn’t want to wait to see if my brother could join us, but I wanted to check if he would be able to sit with us if he decided to come along later, so I e-mailed the pub and asked. I’m glad I did because they told me to reserve a table, which I wouldn’t have thought to do. As it was, I was one of the first to do so, and we wound up at the nine-seat table up against the stage. I couldn’t have been more than ten feet away throughout the concert.

We arrived about 7:15 for an 8:00 show, so we settled in and talked to our six tablemates, most of whom were charter fans who had been to well over a dozen concerts. It was fun to listen to their stories while enjoying the ambiance and trying some of the pub’s “world-famous” potato chowder, which I will attest was delicious. The décor was grand as well, particularly the array of Guinness signs that peppered the wall at the back of the stage and the framed sheet music in the hallway. Around 7:45, the lights dimmed and the wait staff, who were friendly and attentive, came around to light the little candles decorating the tables so that the concert would live up to the “candlelight” claim.

Just a little after 8, Ryan and Neil materialized, striding onto the stage in blue jeans and button-up shirts with no fanfare but the applause that went up when we realized they had emerged. What a difference from the high production of a Celtic Thunder concert! I witnessed that from the front row in 2010 and believe me, it is impressive, but it felt so much more personal to be sitting a few feet away and giggling as Ryan and Neil tinkered with the microphones for 15 minutes. At first there was just breathless silence, but after a couple of “Test, one-twos,” Ryan broke the tension with, “You’re all very quiet. Talk amongst yourselves!” So the buzz of conversation continued, albeit at a lower hum than before.

The concert began with a duet on a song I’d never heard before, but most of the songs were familiar. The only other one I’m not sure if I’ve heard before was Carrickfergus, which Ryan identified as his favorite traditional Irish tune. Rock and Roll Kids only rang a bell because the promotional video for the tour featured that song, a nostalgic ode to bygone days that reminds me of Crocodile Rock, only mellower and more wistful. Ryan explained that it had won the Eurovision Song Contest in the 1990s and was now the unofficial theme song of the tour, and it was a definite harmonic highlight.

A Celtic Thunder concert is streamlined and tightly choreographed, and nobody ever says much beyond a quick greeting at the beginning and a farewell at the end. That was far from the case here, as Neil and especially Ryan were quite chatty between songs, bantering with each other and the audience in a very casual, light-hearted, off-the-cuff fashion. Neil discussed the rather daunting experience of two Irish guys driving up America’s East Coast for the first time, acknowledging that Irish roundabouts are just as intimidating to American drivers as opposite-side driving was to them. Ryan’s description of New York was particularly entertaining. “Now, I know they say New York City is really unfriendly, but I don’t know what they’re talking about. When we were driving through there, everyone kept beeping their horns and shouting at us. We got a grand welcome!”

Neil and Ryan each did only one song from his solo album. Neil’s was the peppy Sadie Jones and I, a cheerful tune on which he and his dad collaborated and for which he created one of the most charming music videos I’ve ever seen. It’s my favorite of his solo songs so far, and it was fun to see Ryan chiming in with the tambourine. Ryan’s was Broken Things, which Neil began to introduce before amusingly deferring to Ryan, who said that many people had told him how deeply moved they’d been by this song about a broken individual finding someone to pick up the shattered pieces of his or her life. That was the first of his solo demos I heard in 2009, and it was a wonderfully poignant moment.

The two of them switched off between solos and duets, though most solos included some vocal and/or instrumental back-up from the other. At first, the audience was very quiet. I mouthed the words to most of the songs but didn’t want to annoy anybody by actually singing along; while Ryan had given us leave to be as participatory as we wanted, everyone seemed to be feeling a bit shy. At one point toward the end of the first set, however, Ryan specifically encouraged the audience to sing along, and after that, we did so on almost every number. It felt very much like being at a little folk club in the 1960s, and it warmed my Simon and Garfunkel-loving heart when they chose to conclude the show with an Everly Brothers medley (All I Have to Do Is Dream and Bye Bye Love). These two have only known each other about five years, but the bond of friendship felt just as firm, and the musical compatibility was unmistakable.

More than half the songs of the night were from the Celtic Thunder catalog, which was nice because they were so familiar to most of the audience, though the sense of excitement was greater when they did something off that beaten path, particularly if it was a popular song like California Dreamin’, which Neil led, with Ryan doing the echoes. Brown-eyed girl that I am, I was tickled when the first set ended with that lively Van Morrison hit, a rather natural follow-up to Ryan’s earlier solo of Moondance. I also thrilled to the opening chords of The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, even though it turned out to be I Wish I Was Back Home in Derry, a protest song with the same tune that I don’t know too well. There were actually some visitors from Derry near the front of the audience, and after the song ended, Ryan said, “I hope you don’t wish you were back home now. Or not right this minute, anyway!”

Ryan dipped into his Celtic Thunder catalog with two songs famously covered by Irish balladeer Christy Moore, one of his musical heroes. Black Is the Colour was in the first set, Ride On in the second; both times, he noted that his acoustic rendition would be much more like what he’d grown up listening to rather than the adrenaline-pumping arrangements from Celtic Thunder. I particularly cracked up when he vowed before Ride On, “There’s no jumping off of rocks or giving people mean glares. This is a friendly version.” I’ve always found that glare pretty silly…

Ryan also sang Every Breath You Take after explaining that he used to cover this song a lot with Emergency Exit, a duo he’d been a part of during his early days of working the pub circuit. Of the name, he confided, “My bandmate came up with it. He said it’s perfect because wherever we go, we’ll see our name up in lights!” While most of Ryan’s solos - aside from the wonderfully raucous Bad Bad Leroy Brown - were mellower in this venue, Neil still cranked up the angst a bit for a riveting rendition of Past the Point of Rescue.

One of the most touching moments was when Neil sang Noreen, the Phil Coulter song originally written for the wedding of Liam Neeson and Natasha Richardson. The lyrics, added after her death, speak of the pain of separation, though in the case of the song, it is geographical distance keeping them apart. This was the first ballad everyone joined in on, and the effect was quite lovely. A similarly harmonic group experience occurred in the second half of the show when we accompanied Ryan and Neil on their duet of Hallelujah, which Dad declared his favorite version of the ubiquitous Leonard Cohen song yet.

Of course, there’s nothing like a raucous group song to get the crowd going at a Celtic Thunder concert, so Ryan and Neil pulled out some of those as well. Galway Girl and Whiskey and the Jar were tons of fun, but the most entertaining numbers had them imitating George. In Raggle Taggle Gypsy, Neil mimicked George’s deep voice for the verse about the lord searching for his vanished wife, earning a laugh from us and a head-ruffle from Ryan. Even funnier was when they did 500 Miles, normally a George solo, and flubbed the second verse, prompting Ryan to introduce the next song with, “And now we’re going to sing a song we know the words to!”

His introduction to Seven Drunken Nights was a hoot as he talked about how one of the goals of Celtic Thunder was to dispel certain myths about the Irish, such as that they’re a bunch of drunks… and then the most popular song on their last tour was this ribald drinking song. “Oh, well,” he said. “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em!” And he and Neil switched off verses, with Ryan echoing George’s dramatically rolled “r” on the word “Friday” and incorporating his name into the lyrics, which threw him off as he headed into the chorus, which just added to the relaxed feel of the evening in general and the rowdy tone of the song in particular. His intro to I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For was similarly funny, as he claimed that he and Neil had written the song together in the 90s and Bono had stolen it from them and then Celtic Thunder producer Sharon Browne had stolen it from him so they were taking it back. This was the last song before the encore, and it made for a hearty closing number.

While I was fortunate to be able to snag such excellent seats – and pleasantly shocked when the server led us to our table – everyone was within a couple hundred feet of the stage, so there really were no bad seats. Being at tables instead of in rows of seats as we would be in a concert hall made it easier for people to talk to each other before the concert and during the generous intermission, when we were invited to make a run for the restrooms or to head up to the merchandise table to buy one of the tour’s classy posters or the lads’ solo albums. This was also a good time to go up and sign the bedsheet that they are using as a souvenir of their first tour together.

After the concert ended, most of the people in the audience got up to have Ryan and Neil sign things and get photos with them. We chatted with another fan on the way to the table, and then we spoke to Ryan and Neil for a few minutes. Neil commented on the photo of him that I’d brought, a shot of him on a bike in his garb from the Sadie Jones video. “Now there’s a blast from the past!” he remarked. As he signed the liner notes of his album, In Time, I mentioned to Ryan how much I loved The Village That They Call the Moy, his tender tribute to his hometown, and he turned to Neil in dismay and said, “We forgot to do the Moy song!” Gee, if only I’d shouted out a request… He also said that he’d noticed us singing along with a lot of the songs. If they bring the tour to Erie, you can bet I’ll be singing along with the Moy song then!

Before we headed out, I got a photo with them, which I was very happy about since, though I’d met Ryan once and Neil twice previously, photographic documentation of that fact eluded me. While I love the Celtic Thunder concerts, I have to say that this was probably the coolest of the three concerts I’ve seen with them. We got to see them with their guard down just being a couple of ordinary guys who happen to have extraordinary musical talent.

In addition to the warmly complementary vocals, the guitar playing was wonderful, especially from Neil, who really knows how to make that instrument sing and at one point impeccably imitated a mandolin. Ryan, meanwhile, surprised me with his jaunty tin-whistle and bouncy tambourine. It was a stripped-down, intimate experience complete with technical difficulties, awkward pauses and last-minute set list changes announced by a “secret code” between the lads involving eyebrows, nods and a wee bit of mind-reading. These guys are really attuned to each other and to their audience. If you love them as a part of Celtic Thunder, you won’t want to miss out on the opportunity for some grade A craic with two superlative Irish musicians.

Emmet Cahill and Daniel Furlong Excel as They Embark on Their Celtic Thunder Voyage

This has been an interesting year for Celtic Thunder, the men’s folk-pop group formed by producer Sharon Browne and introduced to audiences mostly through PBS. Original members George Donaldson (the group’s only Scotsman) and Keith Harkin remain in place, as does Neil Byrne, who initially was on board as an instrumentalist and backup vocalist before stepping out as a leading man. Ryan Kelly excused himself from the group early last year only to return in the fall, but classically trained Paul Byrom and youngest member Damian McGinty have moved on to pursue individual careers, while Emmet Cahill and Daniel Furlong have stepped in to take their places. While I would consider Heritage a more deeply transitional album than this one, that sense still remains here and is reflected in the title, Voyage. Celtic Thunder is a journey; for some members it is just beginning, while for others, it has come to a natural conclusion. Despite the changes, this album is just as appealing as the last.

Dulaman - This opening song whose title means “seaweed” is the second-shortest on the album, but it’s a great one to start with since it’s an ensemble number that showcases all of the lads at once, and the fact that it’s in Gaelic nicely establishes a Celtic flavor. While I prefer songs with at least a little English to latch onto, it’s still very neat to hear their voices tackle those lyrical syllables in this fast-paced folk song.

Isle of Hope, Isle of Tears - The album’s longest song goes to Emmet, who has quickly established himself as a worthy successor to Paul as the group’s most operatic member. Of all the songs on the album, this one best exemplifies the title, as it tells the tale of the first person to go through Ellis Island, a 15-year-old girl from Ireland named Annie Moore. In this song are wrapped up all the heartache, anxiety and excitement of a major journey, and Emmett’s poignant performance is complemented by the tinkling piano and haunting woodwinds. “Courage is your passport when your old world disappears, for there’s no future in the past when you’re fifteen years.”

Past the Point of Rescue - Neil takes on this angsty song with a Western feel to it. The sound, with the racing guitars and fiddle accents, reminds me of the arrangements for earlier Ryan songs such as Ride On and Black is the Colour, so I was a little surprised to hear Neil’s voice emerge on this one. In any case, though, it’s a great track that crackles with intensity as he declares his love for someone who appears to have moved on. “I wonder if I'm past the point of rescue. Is no word from you at all the best that you can do? I never meant to push or shove you; do you know how much I love you? No, you don't, but I do.”

Scorn Not His Simplicity - Composer Phil Coulter has parted ways with Celtic Thunder, but George still takes on one of his classics, a touching ode to his son, who has Down’s Syndrome. Fatherhood has always been a strong theme in George’s Celtic Thunder repertoire, and here, both of his solos embrace it. Gently, he caresses the lyrics to the accompaniment of trilling flutes, rippling piano and soft guitar, encouraging empathy for children society often disregards. “Only he knows how to face the future hopefully surrounded by despair. He won't ask for your pity or your sympathy, but surely you should care.”

Moondance - The second song on the album that threw me for a bit of a loop, since it sounds like a Rat Pack standard, and Damian is usually the one who tackles throwbacks like that. Of course, he’s no longer an official part of the group, and anyway, this is Van Morrison, not Frank Sinatra or Bing Crosby. Still, it’s very jazzy with its prevalent piano and soft percussion, and Ryan’s smoky vocals are at once peppy and alluring as he thoroughly enjoys the company of his ladylove. Also, it’s a kick to hear him sing the word “fantabulous,” a word I frequently use but did not realize actually existed. “Well, it's a marvelous night for a moondance with the stars up above in your eyes, a fantabulous night to make romance 'neath the cover of October skies.”

Song for the Mira - This gorgeous mandolin-tinged ensemble number is the one that best demonstrates the beauty of these six voices in harmony. The lovely melody reflects the deep affection in the lyrics for a place that has long ago been left behind. There are so many songs in the Irish tradition like this; this particular one celebrates a locale in Nova Scotia, the Canadian province that also inspired the heart-rending Farewell to Nova Scotia. While Isle of Hope is the tale of a new life just beginning, the words and tone indicate a journey long past as well as a hope for a return journey in the future. “Out on the Mira one warm afternoon, old men go fishing with black line and spoon, and if they catch nothing, they never complain. I wish I was with them again.”

She’s Always a Woman - I’m a big Billy Joel fan, so I was happy to hear Neil take on this piano-heavy classic. A celebration of a woman with all her complexities and foibles, it is well suited to Neil’s smooth voice, and the flutes give it a bit of a Celtic twist. One of the most purely pop songs on the album. “Oh, she takes care of herself. She can wait if she wants; she’s ahead of her time. Oh, and she never gives out, and she never gives in; she just changes her mind.”

Friends in Low Places - This second solo allows Ryan to return to both the Western style and his mischievous streak. Twanging electric guitar accompanies them as he sings exultantly of his love for low society. I love his laid-back take on this Garth Brooks classic and the little trill of a laugh that sneaks into half of his notes. He just sounds completely carefree and quite relieved to be rid of his ritzy girlfriend whose lofty ways were crimping his style. A fun track. “I’ve got friends in low places where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away, and I’ll be okay.”

Over the Rainbow - Daniel’s crystalline soprano enhances several ensemble numbers, but this is his true moment to shine, and he does a beautiful job with it. The first time my mom heard his rendition of this Wizard of Oz anthem, it made her cry. There’s just such a purity to his 13-year-old voice, and though this is the shortest track on the album, it’s probably also the sweetest. “If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow, why oh why can’t I?”

All Day Long - This album has a stronger country flavor to it than most. This time it’s Keith flexing his vocal cords to the tune of wailing electric guitars and fiddles. He’s also got back-up singers, which makes this sound a bit less like a traditional solo; there’s a very full sound to it. It’s also a song that fits well with the title, as it’s about a man waiting for his love to return to him, and it shows off Keith’s upper register well as he lets out his hearty whoops on the chorus. “All day long I sit here thinkin’ ‘bout you.”

Cat’s in the Cradle - This is George’s second song about fatherhood, and once again it includes a note of advice, this time to spend time with your children when you have the chance. As Harry Chapin is George’s favorite singer-songwriter, it’s especially gratifying to hear him tear into this searing narrative expressing the regrets and sad consequences that come with not making one’s children a priority. The intricate guitar and shrieking violins complement his rumbling voice, initially warm but increasingly bitter as the rift between father and son grows. I’ve long considered this a particularly potent ballad, and George’s seasoned voice is a perfect vehicle to convey that haunting sense of loss. “As I hung up the phone, it occurred to me he’d grown up just like me. My boy was just like me.”

Maid of Culmore - The delicate strains of a harp and strings accompany this group song of grief and regret. Reminiscent of Noreen, my favorite of Neil’s solo numbers, it speaks of a love lost through emigration, though in this case, she was the one who left. This, too, is a song of a voyage as he bemoans her journey to America and contemplates taking his own. Daniel does not participate in this track, but the five others switch off lines and eventually come together for a harmonious last verse in which Keith tugs at the heartstrings with the final poignant line. “But if I don’t find her, I’ll return home no more. Like a pilgrim, I’ll wander for the maid of Culmore.”

All Out of Love - Keith takes on this Air Supply song that’s much in the same vein as It’s Entertainment’s Hard to Say I’m Sorry. His delivery is mostly very mellow, though he occasionally picks up the intensity as he pleads for reconciliation. I always prefer Keith’s renditions of more traditional tunes, but he does a solid job on the pop numbers as well, and this is no exception. “I’m all out of love. What am I without you? I can’t be too late to say I was so wrong.”

This is the Moment - Emmet knocks it out of the park again with this Jekyll and Hyde hit. He starts off hushed, gradually increasing in volume as the verses progress. The instrumentation builds along with him as the tone becomes more and more triumphant. This is a powerful inspirational anthem perfectly suited to his voice, and it’s one sure to bring down the house in concerts. “This is the moment, my final test. Destiny beckoned; I never reckoned second best…”

The Galway Girl - This lively fiddle, accordion and whistle-laden track is a bit of an oddity because Heritage included this song as well, but this version features Daniel instead of Damian, so while the instrumentation is basically the same, the vocal portion sounds significantly different. It’s a nice subtle way of acknowledging the way the group has changed in the last year. “See, I’ve traveled around, been all over the world, and I’ve never seen nothin’ like a Galway girl.”

Falling Slowly - Damian was the darling of audiences throughout America and beyond when joined the group as a charter member in 2007. Over the next four years, fans were able to feel as though they watched him grow up, and seeing him leave Celtic Thunder for GLEE is a bittersweet experience. This Academy Award-winning song comes from the charming Irish indie Once, which is about a magnificent but ultimately short-lived partnership rooted in harmonious music-making, and that seems an excellent metaphor for Damian’s time with the group. This guitar-backed gem is his farewell to the fans, and it’s perfectly lovely. “Take this sinking boat and point it home. We’ve still got time. Raise your hopeful voice. You have a choice. You’ll make it now.”

Seven Drunken Nights - This live track is pure mayhem as the lads – save Daniel – switch off describing arriving home to find things they’d never seen before. It reminds me of many a raucous Irish Rovers tune, particularly the casual feel and the participation of the audience through clapping and shouting. All of them sound like they’re having great fun with this back and forth as the drunken speaker questions his wife about the suspicious items that keep turning up in their house in his absence and the ensemble takes on the role of the wife offering her tart rejoinder. Even rowdier than A Place in the Choir - and much naughtier. An energetic way to end the album. “So I called my wife, and I says to her, would you kindly tell to me, who owns the horse outside the door where my old horse should be?”

I always had the sense that the quintet initially making up Celtic Thunder would only be together for a few years, and I wondered whether the group would disperse or continue to swap out singers as long-standing members moved on. I wasn’t sure the latter would fly, but it seems to have worked well so far. While I hope that George, Keith, Ryan and Neil will stick around for a while, I welcome the newcomers and am anxious to hear more from them individually and as part of the ensemble.

The Irish Rovers Have a Rollicking Time with Drunken Sailor

The Irish Rovers is one of those bands I have truly grown up with. My love of Irish music began with them way back in toddlerhood, and I've seen them in concert three times. Their Tales to Warm Your Mind has a secure spot in my top ten favorite albums ever. While I don't have nearly all of the music they have released, I try to keep up with what they're doing, so when I heard that they had a new CD coming out, I knew I'd need to have a listen.

Drunken Sailor doesn't actually hit shelves until the end of the month, but it's available in MP3 form now, so I decided to go ahead and get it in time for St. Patrick's Day. It's a good album for such a festive occasion; the name reflects the general theme: drunkenness and the sea. For the most part, I would say it's more ribald than most Rovers albums, at least the ones in my collection, with drunken debauchery present in almost every song. Because of this oversaturation of dubious topics, I'm not quite as keen on this album as I am on most. Nonetheless, the musicianship is excellent, and it sure sounds like they're having a lot of fun.

The line-up is mostly different now than it was in the early 1960s, but George Millar is still the bandleader and chief songwriter, crafting many of the songs that appear on the albums and adapting many other traditional favorites. Other members include Wilcil McDowell, longtime accordionist for the group, and husky-voiced balladeer John Reynolds, along with George's cousin Ian Millar, percussionist Fred Graham and vocalist Sean O'Driscoll. Nearly 50 years since its formation, the group continues to provide a rollicking good time for evergreen fans.

The title song here is a familiar one that always goes over well at concerts because it makes such a rousing sing-along. Many of the songs here are similarly rowdy and repetitive, with easy opportunities for listeners to chime in on a key line or two or try to keep up with an ever-lengthening list. Examples of the former include the scatterbrained All For Me Grog, the rascally Across the Western Sea and the wistful Pleasant and Delightful, while Good Luck to the Barleymow and The Dublin Pub Crawl will test your memory of potent potables and promising pubs. My favorite song of this type will probably always be The Rattlin' Bog, but that's not included here. Still, these two make for a fun challenge.

The most blush-worthy of the songs are Wh*res and Hounds, in which a drunken sea dog both laments and celebrates the wild living of his past, and the fast-paced Cruising 'Round Yarmouth, which uses a lot of sailing-related double entendres. The upbeat Trust in Drink, The Jolly Roving Tar, The Good Ship Rover and Dear Ould Ireland are all toasts of sorts, at least on the chorus.

Two of the tracks really stand out from the rest to me. Both are nautical in nature, so they still fit the theme, but one is a low-key, heartfelt lament, while the other is a lengthy ballad recounting an infamous tragedy. Sweet Anne is a mellow, mostly solo song of a sailor caught in a deadly storm expressing his regrets over his leaving his true love. The whistle and mandolin makes this gentle song of separation all the more affecting, and it's probably my favorite on the album.

The real highlight, however, is The Titanic, George Millar's six-and-a-half minute-long ode to the calamity, which happened a hundred years ago in April. It begins with a mournful minute-long rendition of Nearer My God to Thee, which was played on the ship as it was sinking. The song has a nice sea shanty flavor to it as it tells the tale of the ship's construction and the great expectations for its maiden voyage that contributed to its early demise. The chorus is a bit too peppy - and repeated a few too many times - for this to have quite the tragic heft of Gordon Lightfoot's Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, but it's still an effective musical recollection of that calamity with some sobering reflections on its significance, and I suspect that this is the track for which the album will be most readily remembered.

Overall, I would say that I prefer Irish Rovers albums that include more of a mix of song types, with the exception of Tales to Warm Your Mind, of course, which I think of as a concept album aimed as much at children as adults. As a rather straight-laced non-drinker, there are only so many rowdy drinking songs I can take in a row before I need a break. Nonetheless, it's great to see the Rovers still going strong. After all these years, they still know how to turn a song into a party.

Embrace the Magic of Disney's First Soundtrack With Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs

When I think of my favorite Disney soundtracks, I tend to gravitate toward the 1990s, with a side trip to the 1960s for the wonderful Mary Poppins. However, great music has been a part of Disney all along, as early as Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, so I recently took that first soundtrack, which had been lovingly pieced together and remastered, out of the library and gave it few spins.

Naturally, this 26-track album has a rather old-fashioned sound to it, with lots of woodwinds and strings helping to set the arboreal tone, sometimes beauteous, sometimes perilous. Many of the instrumental tracks, such as the eerie Magic Mirror, ominous Queen Theme and whimsical Let's See What's Upstairs, are quite short, while others, like the half-comical, half-alarming There's Trouble A-Brewing and the dark I've Been Tricked, pass the four-minute mark.

The Overture serves as a lovely preview to the rest of the album, while the organ music in Chorale for Snow White, the last purely instrumental track, is fittingly mournful. One of my favorite pieces of music is Why, Grumpy, You Do Care, the flutey tones of which sweetly accompany a wonderful moment in the film that demonstrates the effect this innocent young woman has had on the grumbly Grumpy.

The relationship among those seven endearing bachelors and the naïve princess is the heart of the movie, even more so, really, than the true love that awaits at the conclusion, and the tracks that explore the dwarfs' personalities and reactions are a lot of fun. These include It's a Girl, the longest instrumental track; the upbeat Hooray! She Stays; and the gentle Pleasant Dreams.

Snow White's instrumental tracks reflect her naivety and the beauty of the woodland that surrounds her. Far into the Forest starts off bucolic before turning panicky, while the harp-drenched Just Like a Doll's House is pure delight. By contrast, the tracks involving the queen are unsettling. A Special Sort of Death prickles with malice, while Makin' Pies goes from pretty to urgent as an innocent activity takes a dark turn that culminates in the short but distressing Have a Bite.

While the score by Paul Smith and Leigh Hairline makes for great listening, it's the songs by Frank Churchill and Larry Morey that really capture one's attention. I'll admit that the extremely high voice of Adriana Caselotti as Snow White grates on me a bit at times, but I still enjoy her songs. Animal Friends / With a Smile and a Song and Whistle While You Work complement each other perfectly, demonstrating her ability to be upbeat in the face of challenges and establishing the tradition of Disney princesses to whom animals are magnetically attracted.

Someday My Prince Will Come is a romantic classic, and I like I'm Wishing / One Song even better, though that's mostly because of Harry Stockwell as the prince, whose melodious ditty returns as part of the lush finale, Love's First Kiss. All the romance in Snow White is incredibly simplistic and idealized, of course; she and the prince fall in love instantly without knowing a thing about each other. Still, for what it is, I like it.

Still, I prefer the songs of the dwarfs, given voice by Roy Atwell, Pinto Colvig, Otis Harlan, Billy Gilbert, Scotty Mattraw and Eddie Collins. The distant, malevolent queen never gets to sing for herself, but the dwarfs express themselves quite freely, and their comical, good-hearted camaraderie is my favorite part of the movie and soundtrack alike.

Heigh-Ho is probably the song that has permeated the public consciousness most completely - not so much the earlier, sound effects-laden discussion of their work in the mines, but the cheery chant that accompanies their departure. The largely instrumental Bluddle-Uddle-Um-Dum (the Dwarfs' Washing Song), led by Atwell as Doc, includes lots of silly noises and a great Grumpy moment as his companions force him to clean up for dinner. More silliness follows in the gleefully nonsensical The Dwarfs' Yodel Song (the Silly Song), which allows most of the dwarfs a moment in the spotlight.

This album also includes two tracks omitted from the movie, both of them involving the dwarfs. Music in Your Soup makes a natural follow-up to the washing song as the dwarfs sing their way through dinner, slurping and clanging all the way. The sound quality is definitely sub-par on You're Never Too Old to Be Young, the last track on the album, which starts with the yodeling from the yodel song. This one is a lot of fun and reminds me of Dr. Seuss's You're Only Old Once! Unlike the other deleted song, however, I really can't see it fitting into the movie. For one thing, it really is geared toward seniors, who will best appreciate all the specific ailments mentioned here; for another, it seems an odd song for them to be singing to Snow White, though I suppose the point would be to assure her that they know how to party despite all their creaks. I think this would have made a fun stand-alone short, and I don't think there would have been much reason to have Snow White in it at all.

While there are Disney soundtracks that rank higher on my list of favorites than Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, this is still an excellent album that captures an essential piece of Disney history.

The Beauty and the Beast Music Box Is a Musical Memory Keeper

When my aunt and uncle took me with them to Disney World earlier this year, I knew that there would be one souvenir I would have to purchase, even if I didn’t get anything else. That was a pair of Mickey Mouse ears, which I would then wear around the parks in order to immerse myself in the experience as completely as possible. I got those ears on the first day, but after that, I found myself pretty overwhelmed by all of the merchandise for sale. How would someone as indecisive as me ever choose?

In the end, I mostly stuck with a few small goodies, and I bought the Belle music box both as a reminder of the trip and an attractive way to store mementos. This box is made of hard cardboard, but it feels more substantive than that. Until I did a little checking, I thought it was plastic or perhaps wood coated with shiny yellow paint. Despite being dressed in blue when we first see her, yellow is the color with which Belle is most readily associated. This shows her in her iconic ball gown twice on the outside of the box and once on the inside, and the box itself is yellow and features a delicate pattern of yellow roses.

For the most part, the outside is flat, but the top of the box is textured, and Belle , visible from about the waist up, stands with a red rose in her gloved hand. Near her is the name “Belle” scrawled in cursive, and it seems we are supposed to see this as her signature. She stands in the middle of a pale yellow heart, and her pose seems rather flirtatious; one side of the collar on her dress is falling down her shoulder as she tilts her head coquettishly. I prefer the head shot on the front, in which she rests her chin on her hand and seems to sigh happily.

On the front of the box is a brass clasp. Lift it up over the knob and open the box, and you will find a yellow interior and a tiny plastic Belle in her ball gown spinning gracefully in front of an oval mirror with brass trim. Three sides of the bottom of the inside of the box are pale yellow with printed hearts. The rest of the box is a brighter shade of yellow and has a slightly fuzzy texture. Assuming that you have turned the key in the back of the box, a tinkly version of Beauty and the Beast will play when you lift the lid. It will also play if you turned the key last time and put the lid down before it wound down again.

This music box is about five inches in all directions, a good size for a jewelry box. I’m sure that there are lots of young girls who use it for that purpose. As for me, I use it to keep trinkets of sentimental significance. I keep the box on my nightstand, so whenever I want to, I can reach over, turn the key and get a snippet of that iconic song. While I actually find the light-hearted Something There to be more romantic, in part because it is more personal, the movie’s title song is definitely the right choice for this music box, and it would make a great keepsake for anyone who loves that Disney masterpiece as much as I do.

Ryan Kelly Returns to the Theme of Romantic Regret in Messages

Last year saw the release of In Time, the debut solo album of Celtic Thunder's Ryan Kelly. Two of its tracks, In Too Deep and I Wish That I Could Get Over You, deal with the heartache of realizing that a relationship that seemed so perfect simply isn't going to work out. Kelly returns to that theme in the song Messages, which he recorded for the musical project Five Leaves Left - a song which, incidentally, includes the words "in time" in its lyrics.

This song is an interesting collaboration of artists, of whom I confess only Ryan was familiar to me. Brian McAteer wrote the song, while production is by Donal O'Connor and mastering by Cormac O'Kane. Paul McSherry plays the guitar, and Stephen Beggs and Siobhan O'Kelly add some snippets of dialogue toward the end.

This is a song about connection and miscommunication. Ryan's vocals are gently wistful as he sings about his certainty that he and the object of his affections shared a powerful bond and the gradual realization that either he misunderstood or she changed. The central idea of getting messages is one that will resonate with anyone who has struggled to understand exactly what another person is trying to convey.

The most poignant part of the song for me is the earnestly delivered lead-in to the first chorus: "You laughed at the right time, at the punch line. I thought that at this time, there was still time..." The verses proceed in a curious, almost staccato fashion with very short phrases strung together, emblematic of the stilted communication between the two. "And so, I liked this game and loved what it became, this sort-of love."

The song grows rather experimental toward the end with the spoken word interjections, which seem as though they're supposed to sound like answering machine messages, though they feel more like snippets of a fervently delivered speech. They seem disjointed and a bit unsettling, rather like the dialogue in Simon and Garfunkel's Fakin' It; I'm not entirely sure I like the device, but I think it's an interesting way to explore the overall theme of confusion in communication.

While the liner notes single out the guitarist, it's the keyboard that seems most prominent here, along with some light percussion. It's a fairly mellow tune that builds in intensity a bit as vocal harmonies back up Ryan's forlorn lead toward the end. Generally, I like the lyrics and delivery a lot, though a couple of lines have very odd phrasing where it feels like the end of a sentence but is actually part of a preparation for a complete thought. Namely, McAveety keeps splitting up the phrase "kind of" so that "kind" is followed by a noticeable break. It seems he simply wanted to emphasize "kind" for the sake of rhyme, and it just comes off as strange.

For the most part, though, this is a great stand-alone track. When December comes along, no song can ever compete with Dan Fogelberg's Same Old Lang Syne in my mind when it comes to reflections on regret in relationships, but Messages has more of a year-round appeal for someone in the mood for something a little melancholy. Meanwhile, this marks Ryan Kelly's return to recording several months after announcing his retreat from the music business, so downer of a theme aside, this song's very existence is music to fans' ears. Here's hoping there will be plenty more to come!

Michael Buble Creates a Classic Christmas Album

I’ve been vaguely aware of Canadian crooner Michael Bublé for several years, but it wasn’t until I discovered his exuberant Haven’t Met You Yet last year that I really became a fan. When I heard he was releasing a solo album, I was quite excited to hear what he would come up with, and the David Foster-produced Christmas is just as fun as I hoped it would be.

The album includes plenty of classic standards, starting off with It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas, which isn’t recognizable as such until half a minute in because of the lush instrumental introduction. From there on, it’s a smooth, straightforward rendition that sounds like it could have been recorded in the 1950s. The most interesting variation here is the slight uplift on the second syllable in “Christmas” toward the end of the song. Holly Jolly Christmas is similarly traditional and upbeat with a fun guitar solo in the middle making me feel like getting up and dancing like the kids in A Charlie Brown Christmas.

The Puppini Sisters join Michael for a rather annoying version of Jingle Bells. It’s similar to the Bing Crosby / Andrews Sisters rendition that always makes me cringe a little when it comes on the radio. I’m not sure why it bugs me so much; I just find some of the women’s harmonic contributions grating, and that’s the same here. Lots of scatting that just starts to sound cacophonous. It’s a very energetic track, and some will probably find it very entertaining, but I’m not a big fan. Michael has another guest on Mis Deseos/Feliz Navidad, with Thalía joining him for a mostly-Spanish song. This guitar-heavy track is a lot of fun, even when I have no idea what they are saying. The chorus of joyful voices that joining toward the end adds to an already harmonious merger.

Santa Claus Is Coming to Town is nice and jazzy with a brassy, big band-style instrumental break partway through. The steady percussion and bass gives the remainder of the song a lounge quality that is enjoyable and distinct. His spoken line toward the end about “the big fat man with the long white beard” is especially fun. Speaking of the big guy with the beard, he’s the addressee in Santa Baby, one of my least favorite songs this time of year because of the unbridled avarice that is Christmas materialism at its most galling. That said, Michael’s version is a lot less irritating than, say, Madonna’s, which always makes me roll my eyes. This one is so slow and quiet, with few of the obnoxious inflections typical to this song. I also like some of the lyrical changes, such as calling Santa “buddy” and “dude” and requesting Canucks tickets.

Michael’s rendition of White Christmas seems to have been modeled after the Drifters version, which was featured in Home Alone. Shania Twain joins him for this peppy, doo-woppy track. This is a song that usually comes across as sentimental and rather woebegone, but there’s none of that sense here until perhaps the very end. The brass and pounding drums make it sound like this is a parade coming through town to announce that snow is on the way just because the majority demands it. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, on the other hand, sounds just as wistful as when Judy Garland sang it. Violins are particularly prominent here, while guitar is just as effective at conveying heartache in I'll Be Home for Christmas, which starts off drenched in despairing homesickness but sounds much more optimistic on the second repetition.

It’s no surprise that Michael would tap into the subgenre of romantic Christmas songs here, and I really like his mostly low-key take on All I Want for Christmas Is You. Backed by piano, he sounds quiet and sincere, and the outburst late in the song feels genuinely emotional. In most versions of this song, I’m a bit worn out by the exuberance by this point, especially since the lyrics are so plaintive. He really does sound mildly melancholy – lonely without the one he loves but optimistic that she will appear soon. Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) has the typical mix of anguish and pep. The jingle bells, electric guitar and backing vocals add to the energy of the track, which he sings the heck out of. I also find it fun that the backers echo the Beatles’ “love, love, love” chorus that Michael used in Haven’t Met You Yet. Blue Christmas sounds a bit odd with the clanging tambourine and the ostentatious brass section, and with him whooping and hollering in the background during the instrumental portions, he sure doesn’t sound blue to me. Maybe he’s trying to sound sarcastic? An interesting track, but it doesn’t quite do it for me.

My favorite Christmas albums tend to be those with a hearty mix of sacred and secular songs. This album features only two spiritual songs, and as the first one doesn’t show up until the tenth track, by the time I got to it the first time around, I figured that Michael must have decided to stick with the Santa side of Christmas, along with the cozy domestic end of it. Perhaps the album would feel a bit more balanced if Silent Night had been a few tracks earlier. It’s a lovely, reverent version, mostly because of the children’s choir, but it seems very strange to encounter it after nine tracks that don’t mention Jesus at all. The other track is Ave Maria, which is mostly about Mary and is in Latin. This song seems to be best tackled by those with operatic voices, but Michael does a nice job with it, and the austere chorus in the background is especially nice. While the fact that there are only two makes them seem a tad perfunctory, he does pull out all the stops with the production here.

Cold December Night is the only original track on the album, and it’s along the lines of All I Want for Christmas and all those other songs about romantic Yuletide proposals. It’s an upbeat song, so the implication I get is that he thinks he has a pretty decent shot of being accepted, though “fall in love with me” suggests that at this point, he is probably more invested in the possibility of romance than she is. In any case, it’s a chipper way to put his personal stamp on the album, which he also does at the very end with a five-second-long spoken “Merry Christmas” message.

While there are a couple tracks that haven’t entirely won me over yet, this is a nice album and precisely the sort of thing I would expect to hear from Michael Bublé. In the acknowledgments, he talks about how Christmas is his favorite time of year and how he wanted this album to be a throwback to the days of the crooners, particularly Bing Crosby, whose Christmas music so inspired him as a kid. Although this album includes a few fairly contemporary songs, it has a very old-school feel, so it should be warmly welcomed by those who fill their Christmas turntables with the likes of Bing, Frank Sinatra, Andy Williams and Johnny Mathis. With Michael Bublé’s Christmas, it feels like we’ve stepped back in time, and it’s a very pleasant trip.

Contemporary Artists Take on the Muppets in The Green Album

This Thanksgiving, the Muppets will burst into theaters for the first time in years. It’s a joyous occasion for folks like me who are so fond of Kermit and his chums. In the past couple of years, we’ve seen concentrated efforts to put the Muppets, now a Disney property, more firmly back into the collective consciousness. Expertly executed viral videos have been the primary means of restoring the Muppets to their former glory and demonstrating that they have as much to offer adults as they do kids.

One of the last great pre-movie efforts is The Green Album, a collection of Muppet covers by modern musicians. As I’ve never been much for contemporary music, my familiarity level is pretty low, but this album has the capacity to reach thousands of fans of each of these singers or groups, and even those who don’t know any of the specific artists involved might be curious enough to investigate. It’s a hip experiment that transcends genres, which is kinda what the Muppets themselves are, so it’s quite fitting.

Muppet Show Theme Song - This song, instantly recognizable to anyone who ever saw the Muppets’ variety show, is performed by OK GO, and it’s trippy. Starting with the series of melodious beeps that seem to be designed primarily for dogs’ ears, this band gives us a version of the song that is inventive but not particularly pleasant to listen to. Still, it’s obvious they’re having a lot of fun, and that’s doubly true when you watch the video.

Rainbow Connection - I prefer this track, which starts off with gentle harp accompaniment and birdsong as Weezer’s lead singer slowly sings Kermit’s iconic meditation. Hayley Williams takes over in the second verse, and her rendition is equally heartfelt as the banjo moves into prominence. The two harmonize on the bridge and for the rest of the song, and the result is very pleasing, though I prefer the soft accompaniment of the beginning to the electrified rock sound of the almost-end. The very end winds down with an echoey piano rendition of the chorus that hearkens back to the opening.

Mahna Mahna - This nonsensical song performed by The Fray is pure fun and silliness, as it always has been. The “doo doo doo doo doo”s sound virtually identical, as does the steady percussion. The piano and clapping add a bit of a different flavor, as does the slightly reworked scatting of the beatnik main character.

Movin’ Right Along - Alkaline Trio, a band I’d never heard of before, takes on this Muppet Movie road trip anthem. It’s very heavy on the electric guitar with a bit of piano here and there; there’s definitely a hard rock sound to it. It captures a sense of exuberance and adventure, and the banter makes it extra fun, though it’s a bit too electric for my tastes.

Our World - I’m pretty sure I never heard this song before, but I like it. With the banjo, synthesizer and lovely harmonies, My Morning Jacket presents a song of optimism, singing about all that is good in the world and expressing hope that it is changing for the better. I especially like the heartening “Some say our world is getting too small; I say, with kindness there’s room for us all.” A very nice track that exemplifies Jim Henson’s ideals.

Halfway Down the Stairs - Amy Lee, another artist unfamiliar to me, gives this simple song, performed by Robin and based on an A. A. Milne poem, a rather eerie flavor. I could do with a little less of a techno-ish sound, but her voice is quite lovely, and it still seems like a sweet assertion of finding one’s own place in the world.

Mr. Bassman - This Electric Mayhem song featuring Scooter as an eager fan gets a fun rendition here thanks to Sondre Lerche. I love the plucky bass strumming throughout, particularly at the beginning and end; I’m not wild about the electrified middle portion, but I still like the singer’s enthusiastic tone, which is well suited to Scooter’s excitement. Very peppy.

Wishing Song - In this case, I’m pretty sure I have never heard the song or the performer before. The Airborne Toxic Event sings the song with an angsty edge, and there’s so much distortion at play that it’s hard to understand what they’re singing half the time, but when the words are clear they are nice, and the song comes across as sincere, first bemoaning what is missing from the speaker’s life, then celebrating what is present.

Night Life - This Great Muppet Caper song is performed by Billy Martin and Brandon Saller of the band Atreyu; I’ve never heard of either, but if Saller is in a band named after a character in The Never-Ending Story, his presence here seems to make sense. Honestly, this is probably my least favorite track because it’s just so loud. At one point, one of the guys says, “Hey, you don’t have to play so loud,” and I was really hoping it might quiet down a bit after that, but no dice. I do, however, enjoy the extended drum solo toward the end.

Bein’ Green - Andrew Green, yet another artist unfamiliar to me, takes on Kermit’s other most iconic song, and like Rainbow Connection, it’s mellow and melodious. The mild percussion and banjo are well suited to his reflective vocals that ramble easily over the lyrics. I think my favorite part of the song is when he whistles to the accompaniment of fiddle and banjo. Tied with Rainbow Connection for my favorite track.

I Hope That Somethin’ Better Comes Along - This piano-heavy Kermit and Rowlf song about romantic aspirations gets a nice legato treatment by Matt Nathanson. I’ve never heard of him either, but I really like this rendition. His voice has a pleasant tone to It and, backed by that piano and softly ooh-ing voices, sounds very nice indeed.

I’m Going to Go Back There Someday - Rachael Yamagata get the final track on the album, which is a meditative song from Gonzo as he wonders about his origins. There’s some beautiful back-up harmony here, and the instruments have an appropriately celestial sound to them. I especially like the flute solo toward the end. Again, I’m not familiar with Yamagata, but she has a husky, haunting voice that is well suited to the soul-searching theme of this song.

In most cases, I would much prefer to just listen to the original versions of these songs, but it’s fun to see what modern musicians have chosen to do with these songs. Hopefully, those who are more inclined to enjoy contemporary music will be drawn in by the list of artists but impressed enough to check out the original versions and fall in love with the Muppets all over again – or even for the very first time.

Celebrating Art Garfunkel's 70th Birthday With Breakaway

“How terribly strange to be 70…” In the late 1960s, Paul Simon wrote those words, and Art Garfunkel sang them. At the time, they were young 20-somethings thinking ahead to old age, and their morose vision of 70 has little to do with the still-robust men they are today. Nonetheless, that age has always loomed as especially significant. Paul reached it three weeks ago, and today it’s Art’s turn. As Art’s place as my favorite living singer was cemented when I spoke with him briefly 11 years ago, I knew I’d have to find some way of marking this day, so I thought I’d turn my attention to Breakaway, one of the few solo Garfunkel albums I haven’t already reviewed. Produced, with the exception of one track, by Richard Perry, it’s an excellent example of Art’s skill as a vocalist and musical interpreter.

I Believe (When I Fall in Love It Will Be Forever) - Most of the songs on this album have mingled threads of romance and melancholy, so this piano-driven Stevie Wonder song is a good way to kick off the album. It’s an optimistic song, but there’s a lot of pain behind the hopeful words; it’s clear that this guy has been through a few relationships that haven’t worked out so well. Anguish tinges Art’s voice in the first verse, while the second feels less extreme. The chorus is the real kicker, though, especially the extended repetition at the end as he harmonizes with himself, flirting with the melody but rarely hitting it dead on as though to suggest that what he wants is within reach but he’s just not quite there yet. “I believe when I fall in love with you it will be forever. I believe when I fall in love, this time, it will be forever.”

Rag Doll - This song has a gentle lullaby feel to it with delicate chimes and soft percussion evocative of raindrops. Regret is the driving theme here as he sings of a woman who seems to have been just a shade offbeat. It seems that her oddity embarrassed him and it was only after he rejected her that he truly realized what a remarkable person he had lost. The tone here reminds me of Jack Shephard at the midpoint of LOST making a startling declaration about reclaiming the destiny he never wanted; he sounds very determined, but it seems most unlikely that what he desires will actually come about. Stirring. “The wind in the trees sings a sad, sad, sad song. I lie in my bed listenin’ all night long.”

Break Away - This, too, is about a fractured relationship, and while the tone is romantic, it’s hard not to read it in the context of Simon and Garfunkel, whose need for artistic space turned into a permanent breakup. Whether a singing partnership or a romance, the gist is similar; he wants to give the other person freedom but fears the consequences of a departure. Will he be left alone permanently? This was the first song on the album that I heard, and it remains one of my favorites. These days, it reminds me of Train’s Drops of Jupiter; she’s searching for herself, he’s torn between saying, “Go for it!” and “Please don’t go.” It’s sort of the opposite of Kelly Clarkson’s song of the same name, as she is the one leaving, while he is the one being left. The keyboard adds to the upbeat tone, and I love the bright vocal layers on the chorus, but this seems to be one of those songs that sounds a lot more cheerful than it actually is. “It’s not the place you’re goin’ to; it’s just a phase you’re goin’ through. Though I won’t stop you, I don’t want you to break away, fly across your ocean…”

Disney Girls - This mellow Beach Boys classic written by Bruce Johnston expresses a yearning for more innocent days gone by. The longest song on the album by more than half a minute, it’s an ideal vehicle for Art because of those exceptional Beach Boy harmonies. It too has a wistful quality to it, but the focus is on the beauty of those blissful days he’s not ready to relinquish. There’s a sense that he won’t be able to hang onto his personal Neverland forever, but for the time being, he’s going to try his hardest to live carefree. From the laid-back guitar and smooth woodwinds to the whistling at the end and the little melodic laugh on the chorus, the track certainly captures that breezy feeling. “Reality, it’s not for me, and it makes me laugh. But fantasy world and Disney girls, I’m comin’ back.”

Waters of March - This song, originally written in Portuguese by Brazilian musician Antonio Carlos Jobim, who also wrote the English lyrics, is a peculiar list of nouns. It’s made up of clipped sentences containing only a few words, and many of them begin with the words “It’s” or “It is.” The song reads a bit like one long word-association exercise; one image leads naturally to another and then another, but compare the images in one verse with another and you might not see a strong connection. There is a definite South American flavor to this guitar-driven reflection on life and all its little pleasures and discomforts. His delivery is very deliberate here as though this were a speech therapy exercise; each word is carefully pronounced, so although it’s an exhausting list, none of the lyrics are difficult to understand. “And the riverbank talks of the waters of March. It’s the promise of life; it’s the joy in your heart.”

My Little Town - It’s just a tad amusing that Simon and Garfunkel’s first post-breakup recording together would appear on an album entitled Breakaway. It also appeared on Paul’s Still Crazy After All These Years; the two titles juxtaposed are suggestive of the personal and professional tug-of-war that marked much of their association with each other in the post-duo decades. A part of them wants to just make a clean break, but ultimately, the friendship, messy as it may be at times, is just too important. At any rate, while this is a reunion, it’s also a song that reflects the album title, since it speaks of a hometown as a place of stagnation. It’s as though the speaker is trying to look back on his childhood fondly but just can’t quite manage it. The affection is disingenuous; he just wants to shake the dust off his shoes and move on. Paul’s lower voice gives this rather hard-edged song a very different sound than any of the others on the album, and there’s a bit of cognitive dissonance here because the lyrics eschew looking back, but boy, does it do the heart good to hear those voices together again. “And after it rains, there’s a rainbow, but all of the colors are black. It’s not that the colors aren’t there; it’s just imagination they lack. Everything’s the same back in my little town.”

I Only Have Eyes For You - I’ve heard many different versions of this song originally written in 1934, but this low-key version is my favorite. One certainly gets the sense that the speaker’s affections are returned, so this is perhaps the only song on the album without a hint of depression. Of course, tweak the words a tiny bit and it could be a total downer of an unrequited love anthem. Instead, however, the tone is one of pure joy that bubbles up from within him, and it’s just a delight to listen to Art’s delivery here, particularly toward the end when he hits those high notes with such enthusiasm. I also love the dense harmony on the word “garden” in the bridge. The instruments are great, though I would warn against listening to this one on the headphones; the opening bars create a curiously psychedelic ear-ringing effect that takes a few measures to shake. Nonetheless, this straightforward song of unbridled affection is one of his most romantic recordings. “You’re here; so am I. Maybe millions of people go by, but they all disappear from view, and I only have eyes for you.”

Lookin’ for the Right One - I kinda wish this track had gone before the last one so I could think of that song as the sequel to this aching one. There’s a quaver in his voice here as he sings of believing he has found “the right one,” only to be rejected time and again. Piano and guitar team up here for this sorrowful meditation. There’s a moment in the bridge that seems to be a musical quote of George Harrison’s Something, which would be fairly fitting; in fact, it seems to answer the question posed in that song in a far more despairing manner than the Beatles hit suggests. “They say there’s no use runnin’ after somethin’ you’ll never get, but my heart says, ‘Don’t say no.’ Somewhere in this lonesome city is the woman for me; will I wait another lifetime just to keep on looking for the right one?”

99 Miles from L.A. - Considering that Art is a native New Yorker, it’s interesting that the two songs on this album with the strongest positive nostalgic associations have a California connection. I remember reading that Art wasn’t sold on this song at first, but it’s one of the album’s strongest tracks, another expression of romantic regret and longing for reconciliation. I love the steady ripple of the acoustic guitar here and increasingly prominent plinking percussion that imitates the raindrops on his windshield. I’ve always presumed that he is headed to L.A. to connect with the woman he loves, though I suppose it’s possible that’s where he lives. In either case, it would seem that these two live fairly far from each other – though not far enough, perhaps, to merit a plane ticket. How did they meet in the first place? There’s a lot of story simmering under the surface here, and we’re only getting tantalizing hints as he contrasts his memories of their happy times together with his miserable present speeding along the freeway in the rain toward someone who might not want anything to do with him. “Passing the white sandy beach, we’re sailing; turning the radio on, we’re dancing. Ninety-nine miles from L.A., I want you, I need you. Please be there.”

The Same Old Tears On A New Background - This Stephen Bishop song ends the album on a note of feigned optimism. Like Paul’s American Tune, which came out a couple years earlier, it includes a repeated assurance of “I’m alright” that is basically contradicted by everything else in the song. He’s trying to put a brave face on things, but this guy is struggling. The lush piano and string combo here puts me in mind of All I Know, Art’s first smash solo hit, which covers similar thematic territory. A moody conclusion. “It’s the same old me crying the same old tears, and I’ll walk away like I always do, still in love with you…”

I’ll admit that the grainy black-and-white photo of Art with a woman on each arm, surrounded by half-empty wine glasses, is my least favorite of his album covers, particularly because one of the women is smoking a cigarette. Perhaps he was trying to break away from his largely innocent image? I’m not sure, but I could do without it, and I wish the album included something beyond a track list in the way of liner notes. With the music itself, however, I have no complaint, and it holds up well all these years later, when Art is a man of seven decades who can look back on more than half a century as a recording artist and truly be proud of his contributions. Happy 70th, Artie!