Baby Tonic 2: A Retro-French Sonic Playground for Tiny Ears
Let’s get one thing straight—Brigitte Jardin’s Baby Tonic 2 isn’t your run-of-the-mill jazz-electronic mashup. Released way back in 1985, this quirky French gem blends the sophistication of jazz with the bleepy-bloop charm of early electronic music, all while being educational AF. Yeah, you heard me right. It’s like someone handed a bunch of toddlers a trumpet, a drum machine, and said, “Go nuts!” And somehow… it works.
The album feels like stepping into a whimsical classroom where every sound teaches you something new. Out of the tracks, two stuck out to me like gum on a sneaker: “La Musique S’habille” and “Croco’Son: Petit Déjeuner.”
Okay, so “La Musique S’habille” starts with this super chill piano riff that just makes you wanna lean back and sip imaginary coffee (or apple juice if you’re under 10). Then BAM—it throws in some jazzy trumpet bursts from Pierre Dutour, which feel like little musical hugs. The whole vibe is playful but not babyish, ya know? Like, it respects kids enough to give them actual melodies instead of endless nursery rhymes. Honestly, I caught myself humming this tune while folding laundry last week, which was equal parts confusing and delightful.
Then there’s “Croco’Son: Petit Déjeuner,” because who doesn’t love breakfast-themed jams?! This track has these funky, crunchy beats courtesy of Jean Rochat on drums, layered over what sounds like a xylophone gone rogue. It’s kinda chaotic but in the best possible way—like trying to eat cereal without spilling milk everywhere. There’s even a moment where you can almost picture a cartoon crocodile munching on toast in sync with the rhythm. Weirdly satisfying stuff.
One thing I gotta shout out is the production crew—they really brought their A-game here. Thierry Beaumarié did the mixing, and Jacques Blanpain handled the artwork, which looks exactly how the music sounds: colorful, slightly retro, and full of personality. Philippe Dedieu’s electric guitar adds a cool edge too, making sure things don’t veer too far into saccharine territory.
But let’s zoom out for a sec. What’s wild about Baby Tonic 2 is how ahead of its time it feels. Back in ‘85, most kids' albums were probably still stuck singing about wheels on buses or whatever. Meanwhile, Brigitte Jardin was out here crafting an auditory experience that doubles as a lesson plan. You’ve got tracks teaching punctuation (“Ponctuation”) and rhythm exercises (“Algo ‘Rythme’”), but they never feel forced or boring. It’s sneaky-smart.
Here’s the kicker though: listening to this album made me realize how much we underestimate kids. They don’t need dumbed-down tunes—they crave creativity, complexity, and fun. And honestly, so do adults. Maybe that’s why Baby Tonic 2 hits different even today. Or maybe it’s just because imagining a crocodile eating breakfast is objectively hilarious. Either way, props to Brigitte and her team for pulling off something both timeless and totally bonkers.
Final thought: If aliens landed tomorrow and asked for proof of human culture, I’d hand them this album. But only after warning them about the crocodile breakfast obsession.
