Genre mastery

The d.j. was talking about Neil Young's new album, and his basic point was that Young has made a career of moving from genre to genre. Each album seems to imply a temporary commitment to, or a momentary immersion in, some musical tradition or another. "He had his country phase," argued the d.j. "He had his anthem rock stage. He had his rockabilly phase. One album was all about roots music."

Cleo seems to work in much the same way, although where Young gives each tradition a year or two, Cleo's usually satisfied with a week or two of intense exploration. For a time, it was thresholds: she would crawl back and forth over small changes in floor level, up and down, up and down. Then it was rocking chairs: she learned to climb onto her small, Mandarin red chair, and to propel it back and forth with a force that belied her tiny frame. Next up, swings: over the course of a week dedicated largely to swing sets, she learned to lean forward while swinging, and then to slouch; to put her arms up and to grab small objects while arcing back and forth. And in recent weeks, it's been shoes, as she has spent several happy quarter hours trying to put on and take off her tiny pairs of shoes, and slippers, and sandals.

Young just issued his new release, which is widely seen as a combination of several styles. And there, too, Cleo is just behind: like the grizzled rocker, she learns, and learns, and then tries to synthesize. Soon enough, she'll be strapping on shoes and walking coolly over a threshold to take a seat in her rocker.