Book Review: “Animal Albums From A to Z,” by Cece Bell

ANIMALS ALBUMS FROM A TO Z, by Cece Bell

The vinyl renaissance has been on for at least a decade, but I didn’t think LP love had penetrated beyond Gen Z — and Gen Alpha, or whatever we call the latest crop of teens and tweens — all the way down to the kindergarten and preschool sets. I’m not sure it really has, but it might now, thanks to “Animal Albums From A to Z,” by Cece Bell. This elaborately conceived yet winningly goofy picture book comprises 26 album covers — all allegedly vintage — beginning with “Accordion Americana,” by the Tejano musician Arnie Dillow (an armadillo who recorded for the Musica Avocado label), and ending with “Zigzag Zinnia,” by the Zydeco Zebras (on Zucchini Records). In between you will find “Jump Jive & Jazz,” by Jaguar Jamieson and Jenni Jerboa, and the self-titled “Mandy & the Meerkats,” a swankily styled girl group performing “the most marvelous music made here in the Motor City!”

The record jackets feature extensive song lists, and one tune on each gets the full treatment: lyrics by Bell plus an audio track composed and produced by her talented musician pals. (Readers can listen online or via the book’s QR code to not-yet hits such as “An Enchanted Elbow,” from “The Essential Ella Fontaine”; “Sometimes the Soup Is Salty,” from “Slow Surfin’ ’67” by the Sensational Sloth Boys; and “So Many Ungrateful Ungulates,” from “Uptown Ukulele” by Ursula Umbrellabird.)

Bell — an author, artist and cartoonist — is best known for her graphic novel “El Deafo,” a 2015 Newbery honoree, which deals imaginatively and wittily with the fallout from her childhood hearing loss. She has written and illustrated several funny picture books, but she hasn’t done anything quite like “Animal Albums From A to Z” before. I don’t think anyone has.

Bell’s attention to detail, both typographical and alliterative, is inspiring, as is her commitment to her conceit. She includes artifacts, bios and a poker-faced introduction in which she explains that these LPs “reflect the visionary work of several small, human-run recording studios whose mission was to elevate and promote musical talents of all kinds.” Alas: “The communication difficulties between humans and animals during the recording sessions were a constant challenge; the volatile disagreements regarding proper toileting procedures could not have helped, either.” By the early 1980s, we learn, this “extraordinary time in the history of music” had come to an end, snuffed out due to “waning interest from audiences both human and animal” — yet more proof, if any is needed, that the ’80s were a graveyard for taste.

Does it matter that the ideal audience for this is arguably not a younger reader but me, a 65-year-old (with excellent alphabet skills) who grew up in the LP era and today is either a “record collector” or a “hoarder,” depending on which member of my marriage you ask? I think not.

Kids don’t need to know what zydeco is, or that Mandy and the Meerkats are a nod to Motown artists like Diana Ross and the Supremes, to appreciate Bell’s jokes and wordplay. They can surely enjoy the bold graphics and colorful silliness of the illustrations without getting that Bell is in some cases riffing on designs for actual LPs by Cream, Simon & Garfunkel and the Dave Brubeck Quartet. (Those are ones I got; I’m sure there are more.) Many generations have thoroughly enjoyed Bugs Bunny’s performance in “The Rabbit of Seville” without ever having heard of Rossini.

C.S. Lewis said his Narnia books weren’t Christian allegories intended to convert children on the spot; rather, he hoped the stories would induce a certain cozy familiarity when readers encountered Christian concepts later in life. I would like to imagine that someday a young fan of “Animal Albums From A to Z” will encounter a copy of Brubeck’s “Time Out” LP in a record store; think, “I know this from somewhere”; and, fond memory stirred, pick up a copy. Better yet: Once home, this fan of Bell’s book will understand that Brubeck goes before both Coltrane and Dolphy on the shelf. A win-win.

I leave you with the chorus from “Fleas in the Flapjacks, Fiddledeedee,” from Frankfurter Fandango by the Fabulous Foxes of Folk: “Ticks in my fried eggs, OMG/Mites in the jelly jar, wee wee wee/Fleas in the flapjacks, fiddledeedee/Breakfast is over for me.”