Hey Grammys! You Forgot Lucky Diaz.

I’m Two.  That’s two fingers.  Two hands.  Two ears.  Two eyes.  Two is better than One.  But not better than six.  Six is A LOT better, especially when it’s minutes to Play before Bath.  I like being Two.  I can say about 72 more words than I could when I was One.  Two is better than One.  Mama says it’s a good thing I’m Two because I don’t care how bad her dancing is.

I think she’s the bestest dancer I’ve ever danced with.

Mama puts lots of spins in her dances.  My head jerks back and the cabinets and windows go around around around around.  Then we stop and laugh and the cabinets and windows still go around around around.  We found a New Favorite Song yesterday.  That meant lots of dancing and spinning.  That meant listening to the song A LOT.  Six times.  That’s A LOT more than Two.

“More Blue Bear” I tell Mama over and over.  New Favorite Things have to happen over and over.  Sometimes I say “More Bear Blue”, but Mama knows what I mean.  She pushes a button on the computer, and we spin more.

Blue Bear” comes from one of my favorite bands, Lucky Diaz.  They sing two of my other favorite dancing songs, “This Old Man” and “Firefighter Girl.”  Mama says they’re her favorites, too.  She says they’re better than other cheesy kiddo music.  I like cheese.  More cheese, yes please.  But Mama knows A LOT more than me, so she must be right about Lucky Diaz.

Mama says, “Blue Bear” is a toe-tapping, kitchen-dancing, rockabilly-loving, jitterbug-inducing song with some undertones of Triplets of Belleville woven through the melody.  I say, “Huh?”  The cabinets are still spinning around my eyes.  I don’t mind if Mama says things I don’t understand, as long as I get to dance and spin for Three minutes of “Blue Bear”.  Three is more than Two but not as much as Six.  I likeLucky Diaz.

We can’t get enough of Lucky Diaz, me and Mama.  Songs must be good if we listen six times and still want more.  Mama asks if I want a little more or A LOT more, and I say, “A LOT!”   A LOT is more than a little.  Mama says her head is spinning too, so we’d better sit this one out.  I sit on her lap.  She sits next to Cabinet.  ”Blue Bear” plays again while we cuddle.  I suck my thumb.

Then, just for fun, we listen to “This Old Man.”  Mama says that’s time number Five.  I’m not sure if Five is A LOT more than Six, but it’s definitely more than Two.  When the song ends, Mama’s finger is poised above her computer.  ”More?” she asks.

More please, yes please.

Lucky Diaz may be one of the most refreshing trios to emerge recently on the indie-kids music scene.  With an uncanny ability to mix maturity, gravitas, and listenability sure to please adult ears, Lucky Diaz still entertains and captivates the youngest members of the listening audience.  If upcycling is the current crafting rage, then Lucky Diaz applies the principle to their musical influences: the rockabilly of “Blue Bear” and the camouflaged revision of “This Old Man” most notably.  The band’s musicality is evident throughout the album’s complex rhythms and creative lyrics.  The debut EP, “Luckiest Adventure,” has been one of the best music purchases I’ve made in a long time, and one that we’ve listened to A LOT.  Download the album at iTunes, or stream “This Old Man” and “Blue Bear” for free at the band’s website.


Beth Hendrickson has held careers in new media marketing and teaching and currently manages the home front.  She writes about all things bright and beautiful in life and motherhood at Belle Squeaks.<


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