May 30, 2016
It’s time to take up an instrument, and Barton’s young narrator, confronted with 88 options at the music shop, is overwhelmed. “How am I supposed to pick just one?” he asks, as his beaming parents look on. Each instrument, the boy discovers, has a distinctive, superlative quality: the accordion is “the squeeziest,” a triangle is “the easiest,” a trombone is “the slideyest.” Working in ink and watercolor, newcomer Thomas draws a young man so serious and eager that at one point he’s tackling four instruments simultaneously—it’s clear that no one will need to force him to practice. Ultimately, it’s the piano that strikes a chord, even with its 88 keys to master: “I’ll just learn it one note at a time,” he says. It’s a little disappointing that Barton (Mighty Truck) dodges why exactly the piano becomes the perfect choice for his hero, but the book is spot-on in a bigger sense: when music education works, it’s because instrument and student feel made for each other. Ages 3–7. Author’s agent: Erin Murphy, Erin Murphy Literary. Illustrator’s agent: Kirsten Hall, Catbird Agency.
May 15, 2016
Finding just the right instrument to play means a lively trip to the music store to try them all out.Of all the instruments that slide, squonk, blow, and honk, a young, white would-be musician must select just one. At first it's a little overwhelming to be surrounded by 88 instruments. Patient parents stand by as the child experiments with an accordion, bagpipes, triangle, saxophone, harp, and drums. The variety of musical sounds is reinforced by rhymes reminiscent of Dr. Seuss: "Do I pick the squeeziest? / The wheeziest? / The easiest and breeziest?" The rhythmic, onomatopoeic text dances across exuberant watercolors with lots of movement. Characters and instruments are lightly drawn and set against a white background to great effect. Musicians will anticipate the outcome of this exuberant adventure from the title, as the child discovers the one instrument that captures the range of musical possibilities--the piano. For a book that targets the musically inclined, it's unfortunate that design overshadows meaning in the cover art, where the title is backed by a bit of score that makes no musical sense, including two notes with ledger lines on spaces where they don't belong. The minor error can be overlooked in an otherwise delightful book.This celebration of a child's agency in choosing a means of artistic expression strikes just the right note. (Picture book. 5-8)
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July 1, 2016
PreS-Gr 2-A bespectacled boy is given the opportunity to learn an instrument, but when his parents bring him to a music shop, he has trouble choosing among his 88 options. What ensues is a playful exploration of sound and the vast (and cacophonous) world of musical instruments. The boy's overwhelmed parents follow him as he tries out the triangle, trombone, tuba, harp, and drums and everything else in between. Barton's use of superlatives results in a hilarious onomatopoeic romp through the shop: "Do I pick the squeeziest? The wheeziest? The easiest and breeziest? But how about the slideyest...the squonkiest...the blowiest...?" The work's title might give away the child's eventual pick, but readers will have a fun time arriving at his final decision. While at first overwhelmed at having to master the 88 keys of the piano, the boy is determined to learn one note at a time. Thomas's watercolor illustrations accentuate the silly narrative, adding pizzazz and fluidity to the text. The warm browns and yellows evoke a place of comfort-while the narrator is frazzled by his plethora of selections, he's secure in his ability to eventually choose. The illustrator's expressive line emphasizes each of the characters' reactions with humor and gusto. VERDICT A delightful offering for reading aloud, especially during music-themed storytimes.-Shelley Diaz, School Library Journal
Copyright 2016 School Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.
January 1, 2017
The sight of a music store's eighty-eight instruments has the effect of sugar on a child. But his parents are allowing him to select only one. How's a kid to choose? Barton's galloping rhymed text is a song unto itself that crescendos with the "plink!" of a piano, which wins the day. Thomas's loose-handed, jittery illustrations foreground the boy's attempts to play the many instruments.
(Copyright 2017 by The Horn Book, Incorporated, Boston. All rights reserved.)
July 1, 2016
Move over, kid in the candy shop: a child has been unleashed in a music store, and the sight of its many -- eighty-eight -- instruments has the effect of sugar on him. But his parents are allowing him to select only one. How's a kid to choose? Does he go with "the slideyest / the squonkiest / the blowiest / the honkiest / the toot-iest or grooviest or shiniest? / Or maybe just the tiniest?" The galloping rhymed text, featuring toe-tapping dictionary rejects ("thrummiest"), is a song unto itself that crescendos with the "plink!" of a piano, which wins the day: "I'm going to learn the plinkiest / the plunkiest / and, here to there, / the spunkiest." The rub: "There are so many keys to keep straight, so many to master. How many are there?" Turns out there are eighty-eight keys -- one could say that amounts to eighty-eight separate musical instruments -- which the boy resolves to tackle "one note at a time." The loose-handed, even jittery illustrations foreground his attempts to play many of the instruments; meanwhile, his parents are a mute chorus of comical anxiety. They're a well-meaning pair determined to let their son make his own decision, but when they're out of his eyeshot, their expressions reveal their doubt, worry, and -- as the boy samples the bagpipes -- aural pain. nell beram
(Copyright 2016 by The Horn Book, Incorporated, Boston. All rights reserved.)