Few singer-songwriters are as alert to what's whirring around in the minds of 3- to 8-year-olds--and fewer still capture it as honestly or intelligently--as does Justin Roberts. In a dozen songs as uniformly catchy as the cluster on 2001's excellent Yellow Bus, Roberts rubs the typically dismissive grown-up smear off of genuine childhood troubles: The moon and stars may be bright, but they can't hold a candle to a household full of night-lights ("Night Light"); Mama says moving will be all right, but her reassurances ring hollow when a beloved backyard fades from sight ("Moving"); and a temperature, no matter how slight, could signal the onset of a ferocious "fever fog" and ought to seal the deal on a home-from-school day ("98.8"). Set loose in songs sturdily built on folk, rock, and country foundations, and mellowed by Roberts's rich, way-back gargle, such sentiments generate warmth that lingers. --Tammy La Gorce

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