It used to be that caring parents would give their baby a set of alphabet blocks to play with. Then, knowledgeable yuppies began lulling their infants to sleep with the soft strains of Mozart, which supposedly contained magical secret sounds that would put kids' developing brains on the fast track to genius. Nowadays, websites like KiddiesGames.com even offer computer games for babies on topics they understand, such as the "Dress The Breastfeeding Baby" game.
But now, the next step in the evolution of parenting infants has arrived: Baby Rock Records.
Mozart is all well and good, but what could prepare a child better for today's complex world than a wide sampling of some of the seminal bands of our era? Thanks to the record label's "Rockabye Baby!" series, hipster parents can replace sedate, classical gas with an edgier playlist comprised of lullaby versions of Nirvana, Pink Floyd and Metallica.
Utilizing the soothing sounds of mellotron, glockenspiel and chimes almost exclusively, the artists at Baby Rock have remade the hits of bands like Led Zeppelin, Coldplay and the Eagles into dreamy lullabies, allowing new parents to familiarize their babies with "Stairway to Heaven" before they leave the cradle.
Each album in Baby Rock's 16-album catalogue focuses on one band's body of work, and includes artists as diverse as cult favorites Bjork and the Pixies, '90s hit-makers No Doubt and the Smashing Pumpkins, '80s goth-rockers the Cure, and timeless pop groups like the Beach Boys and the Beatles.
While it's never too early to start educating a child in good musical taste (I suggest that lesson one cover "Let It Be," "Hotel California" and "Smells Like Teen Spirit"), some of these discs don't seem quite appropriate for the newborn mind.
The Baby Rock Records web site innocently asks, "What will your baby dream about while drifting off to these serene interpretations of Radiohead's best-loved songs?" A plethora of possibilities comes to mind, but the bottom line is I wouldn't trust Thom Yorke, the creepiest frontman in rock, to provide the musical inspiration for the dreams of any developing infant. Even without lyrics, Radiohead's moody rock has a hard-to-place undercurrent of dark forces.
Songs like the delicate "No Surprises" are safe enough, and the completely inoffensive chorus of bells and chimes serve to reveal the pop balladry of tunes like "Karma Police" outside the context of Yorke's piercing, nasal delivery. But on "Everything in Its Right Place" and "2 + 2 = 5," they amplify the unsettling dissonance that marks Radiohead's later work.
It's enough to disturb anyone's dreams, as I can attest. When I fell asleep to Kid A after a long day of studying, I woke up feeling as if I had just undergone the kind of vision-filled opium slumber that inspired the Romantic poets. My dreams included something about a ritzy gala of dead souls in the top-story lounge of a skyscraper/ocean liner … Incidentally, I hear Amnesiac will really take your dreams for a spin.
But far more haunting by far is Rockabye Baby! Lullaby Renditions of Tool, which attempts to highlight the soft side of the virtuosic L.A. rockers. Rather than taking the edge off, though, the mellotron, glockenspiel and chimes only amplify the satanic majesty of the group's neo-prog rock.
If you thought the industrial sounds and evil-sounding German incantations (actually the recitation of a cake recipe) of "Die Eier Von Satan" were creepy, wait until you get a load of the album's opening track, a chilling version of "The Grudge" off of Lateralus. Tool recordings are slightly unnerving on their own: I have trepidations about listening to ?nima's "Intermission" at night, since the morbidly bouncy circus-organ riff tends to conjure up images of killer clowns. But the juxtaposition of nursery music sounds and Tool's utterly gloomy melodies is disturbing on a subtler, deeper-cutting level.
The expert rhythms of virtuoso drummer Danny Carey are the single most important element of Tool's sound, and the music suffers dynamically without them. But the album almost makes up for it with the rich melodic layers exposed by the new arrangements. If the ringing resonances bring to mind a church bell choir, the undeniably nefarious tunes make it a bell choir in the church of Satan. As if to go along with this religious-music theme, the barely-audible percussion backing to the goth-funk of "Sober" is reminiscent of Holidays medley sleighbells (jingling on the harnesses of fire-breathing steeds of darkness, of course).
The Baby Rockers focus mainly on Lateralus tracks such as the song pair "Parabol" and "Parabola," whose droning guitar lines lend themselves perfectly to a bell-and-chime arrangement. They attempt to remake the album single "Schism" to disappointing results, however, burying the song's signature rhythmic riff in low-end murk without adding any melodic depth. Tracks from the landmark ?nima are inexplicably absent, with the Lullaby musicians leaving out obvious cover choices, like the hypnotically pulsing "Eulogy."
Despite its shortcomings, Lullaby Renditions of Tool is still the most hauntingly successful member of the series. That said, keep it as far away from any infants as possible, lest their pleasant dreams be interrupted by ghoulish apparitions and other dark forces. I would predict that monsters under the bed will be the least of the problems of any child raised with this album as his or her nightly lullaby.
I give Lullaby Renditions my full stamp of approval for adult consumption, though, as its new twist on the epically dark and twisted music of Tool will make you the envy of any music aficionado. Whether you're looking to freak yourself out during the witching hour, or just looking to chill to some chilling music, Tool on bells is the perfect companion for your hexagram formation of candles.
But parents, please — stick to the Mozart.
Alec Luhn is a sophomore intending to major in journalism. Send any question, comments, or tales of music-induced visions to [email protected].
