The Talking House

Jim Copp made his first album of children’s material, entitled “Jim Copp Tales,” in 1958. On subsequent releases throughout the 1960s, Copp worked with his partner Ed Brown to concoct a series of remarkable lo-fi soundscapes populated by a cast of indelible sonic characters. Copp explored the possibilities of multi-tracking with magnetic tape technology in much the same way as someone like Les Paul or rock producers at independent companies like Atlantic, King, Sun and Chess. Like those groundbreaking indie rock records, the tone and sensibility of Copp’s material provided an alternative to major label releases. As children’s culture, these records could be remarkably dark and surreal, and stand in stark contrast to the competition in the “kidisk” marketplace of this era. As a kind of “Disney alternative,” we should note that critics frequently compared Copp’s work to UPA animation. UPA was founded by animators who left the Disney studios and produced cartoons with a modern art aesthetic and experimental approach, as can be seen in the Mr. Magoo series, Gerald McBoing-Boing (1951) (based on a Dr. Seuss story), or The Unicorn in the Garden (1953) (the product of a collaboration with James Thurber). As UPA had brought a sense of postwar modern design and a literate sensibility to children’s animation, so Copp was seen to be bringing a degree of sly sophistication and a modern sound to children’s records.

Listen to Copp’s “Miss Goggins and the Gorilla” from his debut LP. Notice the intricate layering of tracks to create the cacophony of a school choir in which Copp performs all the voices. We might also note the various degrees of gentle satire going on here: first of course, the satire of the truly repulsive and ridiculous authority figure; but second, of joyless music education for children. Keep in mind that many kid’s records released by the larger record companies during this era featured lessons in music appreciation.



Tracks heard on other Copp and Brown LPs confirm the duo’s claim that their records were as much for “sophisticated adults” as they were for “small fry.” The wistful “Cloudy Afternoon” is a Proustian childhood reverie, filled with the remembered details of a bike ride through the park during a rainstorm. Perhaps most remarkable however, both in terms of content and production, is “The Talking House,” from the 1961 LP, “East of Flumdiddle.”



This track contains many unforgettable sounds: the ghostly melody played by the old man, created through a combination of piano, celesta and a guitar soaked in Sun Studio-esque slapback echo; the eerie voices of the talking furniture; and the uncanny whispered epigraph, “flowers fade fast, but leather will last.” Besides it’s striking sound, that line of dialogue drives home the fact that Copp was moving into largely uncharted territory for children’s records at this time. “The Talking House” deals head-on with issues of aging, loneliness, and death, and in a tone that denies easy morals or sentimentality. “He doesn’t like us because we’re old,” says the rocking chair. What’s more, the whole piece takes on a vaguely disorienting and dreamlike quality as Mark moves further into the creepy, and increasingly animated old house. When he finally meets the old man, it feels as though Mark is somehow confronting himself, and observing the stages of his own life. The kind of thematic and stylistic density found here rewards careful and repeated listening, and just as Phil Spector once claimed to be making “little symphonies for the kids,” so Copp and Brown brought a care and intelligence to children’s record production that pushed the boundaries of the medium and took the youth audience seriously.