Unique (oodily, oodily)

Once there was a girl named Gwendolyn, a young lady with a fondness for simple, one-name monikers, vintage dresses with plenty of flounce, patent-leather Mary Janes and pigtails. She grew up outside Los Angeles, the daughter of working musicians, yet she didn’t begin playing music herself until she was 19, after stumbling across her sister writing a song on their father’s guitar.

“I was immediately fascinated,” recalls Gwendolyn. “I had been acting before that, but when I saw her playing, I was like, ‘Give me that!’ By the time I was 22, I had written over a hundred songs.”

Since that time Gwendolyn has been playing in and around L.A., and over the years her band, also named Gwendolyn, has won a loyal Eastside following. The music they make is cheerfully indefinable, strange and whimsical and threaded through with an innocence that inspired producer Joey Waronker to ask the band to contribute a song to his “Chuck & Buck” soundtrack.

“He wanted something that had the feel of Marlo Thomas’ ‘Free to Be You and Me,’ ” explains Gwendolyn, who will perform Sunday at the Los Feliz Street Fair. “I said, sure, I’d try.” Her translation of Thomas’ 1972 children’s hit was “Freedom of the Heart (Ooodily, Ooodily),” a giddy, utterly irresistible romp that won over the film’s audiences and created a new demand for Gwendolyn’s unique music.

“It was well-loved by people who heard it,” says Gwendolyn with a laugh, “which was nice. And after that a friend suggested I write a children’s album, so I did.”

The result is “Gwendolyn and the Good Time Gang,” a cheery collaboration between the young musician and her boyfriend, Brandon Jay, a talented multi-instrumentalist and member of local acts such as the 88 and Quazar & the Bamboozled.

Gwendolyn and friends, accomplished musicians and quirky and insightful storytellers, have created the kind of children’s album many parents have waited for: one free of sugary sentiment and cutesy lyricism.

“The music speaks for itself,” says actor John C. Reilly (“Boogie Nights,” “The Hours”), who, along with his children (ages 1 and 4) is a devoted “Good Time Gang” fan.

“There’s a sense of play in the music, and the lyrical content is instructional without being finger-wagging,” he says. “It doesn’t try to tell kids what to do, which, as anyone who has kids will tell you, never works anyway.”

Indeed, while most music specifically made for children tends to either preach to its audience or drip with condescending goofiness, “The Good Time Gang” has mastered the art of being childlike without being childish.

In “Please” they encourage good manners and politeness with a bright and bouncy melody. In the singsong “The Selfish Shellfish,” they warn of the repercussions of greed. In the rockin’ “Scrub, Scrub, Scrub,” they prove how fun bath time can be.

“I think the key with kids’ music is that it appeals to adults as well,” says Reilly, softly singing a line from “Please”: “That’s what keeps it on rotation.” Reilly eventually became so fond of “The Good Time Gang,” in fact, that he invited the band to play at his 4-year-old’s birthday party.

“What I discovered by having them in my living room is that not only do they not condescend to the kids, they don’t condescend to the music either. They play with as much focus and commitment as they do for their other music.”

“What was most important to me about having them play,” says Reilly, “was to have my kids understand that music doesn’t come out of a tape player -- to show them that it’s something they can do too.

“That’s a really beautiful, empowering thing to share with kids, and it gives them the self-esteem and the confidence to feel like they can make music themselves,” Reilly says. “And that is what keeps music going.”

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Kids’ music for all

With apologies to Barney and Raffi, some children’s music that won’t make big folks leave the room:

“Gwendolyn and the Good Time Gang” (Whispersquish, 2003): This wonderfully upbeat album is a smart and raucous delight, the kind of sonic adventure that ranks up there with Marlo Thomas’ classic “Free to Be You and Me,” Harry Nilsson’s “The Point” and anything from the Muppets in their heyday.

“No!” They Might Be Giants (Restless Records, 2002): Peppy punk pranksters They Might Be Giants make G-rated mischief with a giddy and energetic kids’ album. Fans of TMBG’s clever quirkiness will find something to love here, regardless of age.

“Le Hoogie Boogie: Louisiana French Music for Children,” Michael Doucet (Rounder, 1992): The singer, fiddler and chief songwriter for avant-Cajun band BeauSoleil puts a Louisiana spin on “Woolly Bully” and the “Hokey Pokey,” mixing them with such all-ages Cajun classics as “P’tit Galop Pour Mamou” and “Jolie Blonde” in an eminently flavorful musical gumbo.

“The Point!” Harry Nilsson (RCA, 1970): One of the most imaginative and inventive children’s albums of all time. The songwriting genius of Harry Nilsson brings to whimsical life the story of Oblio, a round-headed boy, and his faithful dog, Arrow, as they move through a pointy-headed world. Reissued in November with bonus tracks.

-- Jessica Hundley, with Randy Lewis

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Fair Gwendolyn

Where: Los Feliz Street Fair, at booth at Vermont and Melbourne avenues, Los Angeles

When: Sunday, 11:30 a.m.; fair, 11 a.m.-5 p.m.

Cost: Free

Info: (323) 662-5900.