I was listening to my new CDs while cleaning the house, washing the dishes: Devendra Banhart's Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon and Classic Mountain Songs From Smithsonian Folkways.

For a moment, I couldn't tell which was which.

We were strolling on the small trails through Prospect Park on Christmas afternoon.

We heard it before we saw it - the slap-echo of rock 'n' roll Christmas songs piped through loudspeakers, bouncing off ice and rink railings, mixed with the scraping of skates, a lot of laughter, a few squeals and screams.

The winter afternoon sun was low and bright. My hands were cold. We saw a rainbow kite lodged in a tree. I couldn't even tell you which Stevie Wonder Christmas song was playing. Everything sounded wonderful.

I bought a new CD for myself yesterday: Emma Pollock's Watch the Fireworks.

As I swiped my debit card to pay for the $18 disc, I realized I haven't purchased a CD in a very long time. Remember Lemonade Stand? Guess what, music industry.... and thus we all trade CDRs, mp3s and keep our Jacksons to spend on winter boots or save for a down payment on a condo we'll never be able to afford.

I bought this CD because I love Emma's beautiful, effortless vocals on the Delgados records. The second track, Acid Test, reminds me of a specific song from the late 90s, but I can't place it. Perhaps the Breeders, Juliana Hatfield, Liz Phair... it's driving me a bit nuts.