Ostensibly a way too tightly niched project for nightmare-suffering dinosaur lovers, Dinorock's is actually a ton of fun for anybody who's ever pondered the prehistoric bumblers or, for that matter, anyone who dreams. At the outset, we're introduced to everykid Nelson, whose parents are contemplating the consequences of reading their scary-dream-susceptible son a hair-raising tale about the humungous lizardlike creatures he spends his every waking hour obsessing over. At Nelson's insistence, they proceed--but not before his mom helpfully reminds him that he can control the outcome of nightmares. Once the lights are out, listeners whirl around a windmill-like profusion of Nelson's dreams. First our slumbering subject stumbles into the dreamweavers, a reassuring band of well-wishers along to remind Nelson that he can conquer his fears. And then the artfully disguised archaeology lesson begins: We meet Doris the stegosaurus, who's "not even 2 but knows what to do" by relying on stegosaurus instincts; Tina Titanosaurus, an Argentinean longneck who dances a mean tango even though she has "two left feet and two right feet, too"; and a sometimes fierce, sometimes friendly selection of other swaggering sauruses (with the exception of Shy Kyle the ankylosaurus, who's more likely to squirm than swagger). Each cut's clever lyrics linger long enough to warrant comparisons, and Darryl Duff's deep-voiced delivery in the a cappella-styled "Alan Apatasaurus Lament" will live on long after this album has become extinct in the minds of its young listeners. That's not to say this album won't have Stone Age-like staying power in most collections, though; its spot-on production and skilled musicians seal the deal on its sticking around for more than a few spins.
