OMG, I so need this. Found at BeepArt on Etsy.com

A good mix has, on more occasions than I care to admit, convinced me I was completely in love with a boy… and I’m not just talking about during high school and college. And I’m not just talking about boys that were even remotely dateable… you know what, let’s just change the subject.

I’ve kept every mix ever given to me and still relish the impressive storytelling through song on favorite compilations such as “I Can’t Believe You Made Me Wear a Tie”, “Who Gives a F**K About Laura Palmer When Audrey Horne Is On?“, “OMG! Let’s Go Hiking!” (which, incidently, didn’t really have any songs related to hiking, but was given to me just prior to a major Grand Canyon hike), and a more recent favorite from a friend who actually found a punk song where the only audible word screamed by the singer was an impassioned, “Jaaaaaaanellllllllle! Jaaaaaaanellllllllle!” for the three-plus-minute track.

Sadly, the art of the mix seems to have died with the advent of the iPod. Try as I do, the hints I drop never seem to result in the bestowal of a mix. As of late I have begun to bemoan the mix as a romantic piece of nostalgia, and a craft and skill that is steadily on the wane.

So, in my single-handed crusade to revive the fine art of mixes (in particular, the ones that are given to me), ownership of the awesome laptop decal above is crucial, as is this cool print, as is this beyond adorable keychain, as is this grossly over-priced, yet fantastic embroidered pouch, as is anything found on Etsy.com under search word “cassette”. I do have a birthday coming up, people!

Eh, or maybe I’ll just start saving my pennies for cassette-inspired trinkets: I’m nothing if not self-sufficient.

Photo courtesy of some guy's Wordpress site. I'll assume he swiped it from someone.

I know I’m late to the party with this whole Charlotte Gainsbourg thing. For years the daughter of Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin has been floating in my periphery; but I guess I got confused as to whether she was an actress or a musician or a starlet more famous for being famous than anything else.

Never mind that I’ve actually seen her in half a dozen movies and, though her performances were staggering, for some reason I never got around to IMDB her. No, I didn’t see Antichrist. I’ll get on it. Gad, stop looking at me like that!

Call me a dolt, but there is so much talentless progeny of creative icons out there; I get confused and throw up shields impervious to any sort of cultural osmosis whenever I hear a famous last name attached to a new first name. In this instance, I’m a total idiot. I admit it. I’m trying to change.

I first (knowingly) heard Gainsbourg on KCRW a couple of weeks ago. I had no idea who was on, but I loved the song enough to whip out my iPhone and Shazam it–because I had to know who it was AT THAT VERY SECOND.

Then, this week I read a recent New York Times article on her new Beck-produced CD, “IRM.” My favorite part of the article (I’m not missing the point, I swear.) is her mother’s quote: “She is she, not Serge, not me. But, sweetly she has our voices in her head.” It’s like a tiny poem that needs not one more sentence to complete it. It’s also a two-sentence parenting philosophy–just tape it above your kid’s bed and think about it every day. That’s all you’ll ever need to have a perfectly well-adjusted kid, right?

Anyway, since you probably missed her David Letterman appearance on Friday (and her drummer in a wolf man mask!), opting instead to watch Conan O’Brien’s swan song, give the kid a moment of your time and watch her charmingly shy, inherently cool performance–and watch Beck back her up on guitar and vocals–at the KCRW studio. You won’t regret it. Promise. They even do a little bit of insightful chit-chat at the end.

Courtesy of Lissie's Myspace page

Lately, it seems Los Angeles has become a hub to an ever-growing collection of alt country artists. Great timing for me, an ardent fan of alt country and Americana music. One blazing young star in Los Angeles’ ever expanding milky way of hopeful starlets is Lissie Mauris.

Hailing from Rock Island, Ill she relocated to LA about five years ago and now resides in Ojai. And having gotten herself in with the right people who knew the right people who knew the right people who knew the right people, she scored herself a touring gig with Lenny Kravitz without so much as a debut CD.

With all the promise and charm of a young Jewel (give me all the flack you want, “Who Will Save Your Soul” is a good song), but without a hint of the affected optimism or naiveté, Lissie’s sound revels in the catharsis of heartbreak before she kicks it to the curb and moves on in a “take no prisoners” sort of way, with her tar and nicotine soaked vocals.

After hearing her on KCRW back in November, I downloaded her new EP “Why You Runnin’”. Listening to it is like taking a rambling roadtrip through the past five years of heartbreak and self-discovery in Lissie’s life.

The lyrics and music are great, but it’s Lissie’s vocals: a blend of raw refinement reminiscent of a Bonnie Raitt, Patty Griffith, Stevie Nicks, late-night, cigarette-smoking, slumber party that’s the real star of the CD. All of the songs are great, but the standout is a cover of Hank Williams’ “Wedding Bells”; a rendition so powerful and true it will send a chill down your spin, a knot in your stomach, and an ache in your heart.

Here, have a listen, why don’t you.

And here are some great originals that didn’t make it on her EP. Obsessed? Yes. What of it?

Your Chest
I Don’t Know