On Dan Zanes & His So-Called ‘Friends’

Would you trust this man to sing to your child?

Would you trust this man to sing to your child?

Ever since we began discussing music for kids the other week, I’ve been listening to Sasha’s music with a closer ear. And by “Sasha’s music,” I mean, primarily, Dan Zanes—the ex-Del Fuegos lead singer who in the last decade has become a Brooklyn kiddie-tune fixture. By and large, his music is fantastic, a mix of old-timey American tunes mixed with contemporary songs and genres, plus clever guest spots (Suzanne Vega, “Father Goose”).

But one of the songs on “Rocket Ship Beach” (which I take to be his first big success, though I could be wrong) is increasingly troubling to me. It’s called “All My Friends Live in the Woods,” and I’ve transcribed the lyrics below—from memory:

I once knew a badger who lived in the woods
He was black and brown and gray, and was ever so good
Whenever he came out, he would shuffle and snuffle about
Turning over leaves with his shiny wet snout
Then there was Horace the Hedgehog, who lived beneath a tree
He crawled about all wobbly, cuz he could hardly see
And now and then he’d squeak, cuz that’s the way they speak
Then he rolls himself up into a ball and goes to sleep for a week
Chorus:
My friends—live in the woods
All my friends—are ever so good
Won’t you come on over and meet my friends
Oh, I wish you would
Cuz all my friends—live in the woods
Then there was Robbie the Rabbit, who lived in a hole in the hill
He was always shivering and quivering, he could never sit still
He was always dashing here, and always flashing there
But Oswald the Owl told me that he never got anywhere
But my favorite animal is a little mole called Tim
He’s got shiny, tiny eyes and a blue-black glossy skin
I haven’t seen him in a long, long time—I wonder what’s happened to him?
He’s a little mole and he lives in a hole, my holey-moley Tim!
[Chorus]

What’s so wrong with this stuff? Let’s go through it line by line:
I once knew a badger who lived in the woods

Seems fine, sure, but that “once knew” bugs me. Doesn’t he know the badger anymore? Why are you telling us about ex-friends?

Then there’s Horace the Hedgehog:
He crawled about all wobbly, cuz he could hardly see
And now and then he’d squeak, cuz that’s the way they speak
Then he rolls himself up into a ball and goes to sleep for a week

I’m a little annoyed at the mixing of tenses and the issue of subject-verb agreement. But more than that, I’m starting to wonder about Mr. Zanes’s conception of friendship. Shouldn’t he be helping his legally blind friend navigate the wilds of the woods?

As regards Robbie the Rabbit (“always shivering and quivering, he could never sit still”), I detect a weird sense of superiority, especially since, according to Oswald the Owl, Robbie “never got anywhere.” Which actually makes me wonder: Does Oswald perhaps want to eat poor directionless Robbie? Has Mr. Zanes ever considered the ulterior motives of his sylvan pals?

Which brings us to Tim the mole, Mr. Zanes’s so-called “favorite animal.” Favorite animal?!? Please. Mr. Zanes “hasn’t seen him in a long, long time” and doesn’t have any idea “what’s happened to him.” I’ll tell you what’s happened to him: While you were busy cruising around Brooklyn with your wild hair, inviting toddlers out to the woods to meet your “friends,” your predator pal Oswald has been chowing down on them.

In other words, Mr. Zanes, I think you need to be a little more discriminating about who you choose as a friend—and about what it means to be a friend yourself. I appreciate your invitation to Sasha, and I’m sure she’d jump at the chance to head off into the woods with you, but  I’m worried that you might leave her alone with an animal pal—Richie the Rattlesnake, maybe, or Gerald the Grizzly Bear—who’s maybe not as trustworthy as you’d like to think.

But look, go find out what’s become of your holey-moley Tim, and if he’s okay, I’ll reconsider your invitation.

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About Matt

Matt Gross writes about travel and food for the New York Times, Saveur, Gourmet, and Afar, where he is a Contributing Writer. When he’s not on the road, he’s with his wife, Jean, and daughter, Sasha, in Boerum Hill, Brooklyn.

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