Seriously? Why not? C’mon, honestly. What’s so terrible about tossing an egg out a third-story window, spilling ink on the carpet, hammering holes in the living-room walls, pouring a river of water down the stairs or telling your dad he smells really bad? (Assuming he smells really bad.) Nothing. It’s all part of growing up, like when your parents see what you’ve done and all they can say is, “Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.” (At least that’s what it sounds like to John and John.)
That’s the beauty of They Might Be Giants, and that’s why our crazy family loves their kids’ albums, even more than we love their grown-up albums. Because they’re laugh-out-loud funny. Because they strike a chord, even if your dad doesn’t smell really bad. (Mine did, at least toward the end.) Because they’re so minutely absurd, so ridiculous—like when you’re invisible and you can make it look like the cat turned on the dishwasher all by herself—that they feel universal, as if you really could be two inches away from my face, ready to sneeze, and I couldn’t see you.
Mostly because John and John haven’t run out of ideas, which is the craziest part of all. That after 2002’s No!, 2005’s Here Come The ABCs, 2008’s Here Come The 123s and 2009’s Here Comes Science, they’re still going and going and going, except they’ve taken a break from explaining the world and decided to simply channel their inner Gumby. Why ask why?
—Kenny Berkowitz
