It is a sweltering Saturday in Cleveland in July 2005, and the open-air Tower City Amphitheater is overrun with kids, hundreds of them, devouring pizza and cut-up hot dogs, testing their mettle in an inflatable jousting arena, and offering bubbly renditions of "Do You Believe in Magic?" in the Stars of the Future talent search.
Alice Chou, a graduate student at the University of Chicago, winces and waits. She's not a mom herself—in fact, she claims to not even like kids. But she has driven five hours to KidsFest, an annual children's music extravaganza, to see her favorite band, geek-rock mainstay They Might Be Giants. The band has recently been dabbling in a lucrative sideline, entertaining children, which has led to mild irritation among fans like Chou—and rapturous delight among parents. "I found myself singing along with the refrains and not being embarrassed," says Michael Oliver, a Cleveland dad who's attending the show with his daughter, Morgan, 6. "The music is not dumbed down—it's catchy without being annoying or babylike." Adds Morgan, "They were funny!"
Giants singer/keyboardist John Linnell says he and his colleague John Flansburgh stumbled on their preschool fan base after someone at their record company suggested they follow up their Malcolm in the Middle theme song with an album devoted to young 'uns. "We didn't expect to be as into it as we were," says Linnell. Sales of the resulting record, the appealingly enigmatic No!, were double those of Mink Car, an adult album the band released around the same time. Before long, Disney came calling, signing the band to create a DVD, Here Come the ABCs. A sequel—Here Come the 123s—is in the planning stages.
Next Page: The tot-rock explosion, from Lollapalooza to Noggin
