I'm not the biggest fan of J-Pop. Most of it just sounds gimmicky and annoyingly childish to me. But if more of it sounded like this, I'd be down! Haru Nemuri fills her album with a refreshingly diverse set of tunes. Equal parts catchy and creative, these richly layered songs jump out at you and hold your interest, without ever devolving into the contrived cutesiness that mars most J-Pop. With a knack for melody and a spirit of musical adventure, Nemuri is an artist to keep your eye on. I anticipate great things from her.

In the last couple of years I've begun to appreciate this song much more than my pre-adolescent self did when it was topping US charts in 1980. I keep playing it over and over, as if against my own will, blissfully enveloped in it's warm, hypnotic glow. Hmm, this is what must be playing while floating on a cloud in some heavenly afterlife. Or perhaps this was the mythical siren song that lured all those hapless sailors to their deaths. (and oddly, the lyrics work in either context) Credit for "Magic"'s magic is mostly due to writer and producer John Farrar. But Livvy brings her A-game to the vocals, and has never sounded more angelic, at moments even reminding me of Liz Fraser. In fact, if you squint a little bit this could almost pass as a Cocteau Twins track. This is that very special piece of pop fluff that transcends it's intended purpose as disposable radio product and ends up hitting something deep and timeless.

I think Olivia Newton-John was my first celebrity crush. I must have watched this stupid movie at least a dozen times on the Movie Channel after school. Unlike the movie, the soundtrack actually holds up pretty well. "Magic" is Livvy's greatest song ever. And the Electric Light Orchestra side of this stands as some of their best material.

Suppose you're bored one morning so you decide to time travel back to 1996. When you get there, you happen to run into Beck, Ween, and The Magnetic Fields. So you roofie them all (cuz you're gangsta like that). Then you drag them home and throw them into a blender (cuz you're Dahmer like that). Then you pack the resulting cocktail into the freezer, and promptly forget about it. Fast forward back to the present and you suddenly remember, "Oh snap! I forgot about my Late 90's Hipster smoothie. That would taste pretty good right about now". So you open up your freezer, dig out the ice-crusted concoction and set it out to thaw, hoping that it will still be good after all these years. Yeah, it's still good.

Well, this is not what I expected. It's less Hipster-ish and more Lilith Fair/NPR-ish. That's not necessarily a bad thing. But if you're going to travel down that well-trodden road, it would be nice to bring something fresh to it. Baker doesn't. Stylistically, the artist Baker most reminds me of is Patty Griffin. But to make that comparison is to reveal Baker's several shortcomings. Where Griffin's best songs offer the mature insights of a woman who's seen her share of hard knocks in life, Baker's sound like the shallow wailing of a melodramatic teenager. As a vocalist, she lacks Griffin's lung power. And where Griffin's albums offer a mix of varying moods and tempos, the relentless saminess of Baker's songs becomes tiring over the course of a full album. Baker is not without talent, and has the potential to become a relevant artist eventually. But it will probably take her a few years of growth and better self-awareness to get there.