Society Eye

I like to think that there are few blemishes on the charts of my musical history, but I’d be kidding myself if I didn’t admit to a little dallying on the daft side.

Indeed, in the early stages of childhood, a brief dip in the quality of my tastes – mostly due to the advent of discovering the joy of things like Barney, Polkaroo and Sesame Street – led to my brief love of all things Sharon, Lois and Bram.

But who could resist catchy, borderline-philosophical titles like “Do Your Ears Hang Low?” “Skinnamarink” and “Dirty Old Bill”? Not to mention the questionably titled “I Know a Little Pussy”. Such songs showed me that music wasn’t just alive on the record: when you added a dancing, singing, energetic participant it became a decidedly cooperative activity.

For those who haven’t heard of this infamous Canadian trio, their backstory is simple enough. Three folk performers from the Toronto area got together and released a string of hit children’s albums. (Not albums about hitting children, though.) As a toddler living in Welland, Ontario, I was well within the fallout zone for this gang’s bebop bombs.

I took to SL&B’s wacky anthems like snot to a tissue, even learning the dance movements and sign language to follow the lyrics.

And when the trio finally got their own TV show, well; let’s just say the shit hit the fan and my six-year-old self got covered in SL&B’s “Peanut Butter”.

For me, a lasting impression of the trio was their awkward friendship with a giant elephant – who underwent a redesign in the late 90′s that made it look like a cocaine addicted post-op whore.

By my standards today, SL&B are far from personal Rock N’ Roll hall of famers. But any personal history has to have its fair share of failings – if I’d never listened to bad music, I’d never know what it sounded like.

Thankfully, my next musical infatuation brought me out of this brief rut. Let’s just say I went “Radio Ga Ga” for these chaps.