In the age of the iTunes playlist, making a mix is easier than ever and in my opinion, there isn’t a better gift. If the best presents are from the heart, even better presents are musical.

Not only do my mixes display my preferences in music, but they also relate to what moves me emotionally. They are stained-glass windows into my personality and each song is a colorful piece of who I am.

Indeed, every time I create a new playlist, I change into a something of a safari guide to a Sahara of new music (minus the crazy hat and shorts). It’s not an in-depth analysis of my iTunes library, but it is a quick and adventurous tour of the landscape.

Even more rewarding is when the listener actually enjoys my mix. Positive feedback is more than just a compliment. Not only does it show that they like who I am musically, but I feel like each appreciated song becomes a new bridge between us.

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At first glance, MTV’s celebrity-offspring singing competition Rock the Cradle doesn’t seem like much more than a third-rate American Idol knock off. The dueling karaoke numbers of these celebrities-by-default isn’t helped much by the ludicrous over-hosting, the asinine judging panel, and the contestants’ syrupy vows that they have what it takes to “make it” on their own (except, you know, for being the child of someone famous and getting on the show in the first place).

This glorious train wreck of a television show does have one saving grace–the parents. Some of them have a bizarre synergistic relationship with their kids, as if it’s another way to extend mom or dad’s fame just a bit longer. Witness: the Dee and Jesse “Blaze” Snider tag team…

Many of the parents appear at the live show taping to appraise their progeny’s talents after they have been harshly judged by a blue-ribbon panel that includes Avril Lavigne’s choreographer and the lead singer of the Go-Gos. And nearly all of them star in completely natural and fluid staged video packages, dispensing essential rock-star parental advice with varying degrees of verisimilitude.

But at least everyone seems to genuinely care about each other amidst the wackiest jet set talent show ever conceived. It’s nice to see Bobby Brown on TV again outside the context of an E! True Hollywood Story. Particularly sympathetic is Crosby “Son of Kenny” Loggins, who possesses a disarming humility (on silver spoons: “I used to get a lot of crap for what my dad did. I didn’t care. ‘Danger Zone’ put food on my table.”) that is incredibly out of place in RtC’s world of whiz-bang presentation and contrived verbal sparring. Surely MTV knows this too and has prescribed some of the least convincing cockiness and the most unexpected bleep in TV history to give the family Loggins more “edge”:

Soft rockers don’t swear! But at least they’re setting a better example than Lil B. Sure! (son of obscure R&B veteran Al B. Sure!):

There is a world of cuisine outside of Figueroa fast food, Viztango, and Malibu Subs. I know that the busy slump sucks and the lure of cheap, quick food is hard to resist. Venturing further away from campus involves temporal, monetary, and logistical constraints. Luckily, with proper planning, you can beat these obstacles and get to eating some delicious ass food.

Masa - Echo Park Bakery & Cafe boasts a relatively large menu, but is known for their Chicago Style Deep Dish Pizza. A large pizza easily feeds four people, and at a rate of $22+ for a large, you can leave well fed for about $7. Or, if you’re only in a twosome, get a small pizza and you’ll still achieve some serious expanding of your waistband. Deep dish pizza takes about an hour to make, so they welcome you to phone in your order beforehand. I also highly recommend their garlic bread, salads, and desserts. You can BYOB with no corkage fee, so make it a classy night and bring along some two-buck chuck.

Large Deep Dish Pizza with Roasted Red Pepper and Sausage

Now you’re wondering how the hell you’re going to get there. (This map I made shows you how close the bus stop, the restaurant, and the Echo are to each other.) Well, it just so happens that 200 Metro Bus goes directly from USC to Echo Park, whence you will get off at Sunset and only walk a few short blocks East to get there.

On March 7, KSCR was pleased to present our second concert this semester at Ground Zero Performance Cafe featuring The Dodos, Thee Oh Sees, Goodbye Gadget, and Clue Junior.

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After introducing the world to So Me’s t-shirt animating skills in their acclaimed video for “D.A.N.C.E.”, Gaspard and Xavier have gone back to the well for their new clip for the equally infectious “DVNO.”

In keeping with the song’s deconstruction of hipper-than-thou scenester elites, we’re treated to a menagerie of slick, slightly altered consumer brand logos. I spotted re-creations of the old-school HBO logo, the neon Universal Studios Hollywood (or Florida) sign, and the little AMC “Silence is Golden” bumper, among others. And stick around for the brilliant tribute to the Steven J. Cannell production logo at the end.

It’s also nice to see that Justice’s penchant for little tangential cameos during performances of their own music is alive and well. Not everyone looks good in an LED robot suit, after all.

At the risk of making this page look like an ‘I HEART KANYE’ lovefest, we got some good news for all y’all Ye fans. Looks like the graduate will be bringing his good life and the “Glow in the Dark” tour to L.A. Here’s the list of places where he’ll show up for some fake sh*t.

Yeah, you saw the sign right. We also like umbrella-ella-ellas, skaterboys, and superstars.

YO! What if… nah… but… they were at that award show… YO! DAFT PUNK WILL BE THERE!!! Of course I’m kidding, but I’m also praying, wishing and dreaming. We might like Kanye (not as much as Kanye likes Kanye), but we love Daft Punk.

Tickets go on sale Friday 2/15 at 10 am on ticketmaster.

Here’s the new (READ: creepy) “Flashing Lights” video while you wait to get your money right or, you know, wait for the tix to go on sale.

I hesitate to blog about the Grammys for a couple reasons:

1) Saying the mainstream music industry is in deep trouble is kind of like beating a dead horse with a baby seal. This situation is never more obvious than during the annual Grammy telecast. Eventually they’re gonna run out of ways to repackage the Beatles’ back catalogue and then all you’ll be left with is Herbie Hancock albums. Which brings me to…

2) It’s doubtful that KSCR and associates really care about who wins these damn things. As a product of Strip Mall America, I’m probably one of the few who has a lingering emotional investment in the whole process. And despite their relatively unpredictability, major Grammy award winners are usually divided into two camps: the most broad, middle-of-the-road commercial successes (Foo Fighters, Alicia Keys) and the aging stars who are really being awarded for a whole body of work (Steely Dan over Beck, Radiohead, and Eminem for 2001 Album of the Year? Really?).

So where can timeliness and relevance be found in an institution that allows “Professor” will.i.am to rhyme “Grammys” with “jammies” and “slammies” while placating the indie crowd with Bright Eyes’ award for, um, album packaging? The performances, obviously. The Time and Rihanna complemented each other unusually well and the Beyonce/Tina Turner diva-off was one for the ages, but the night belonged to Kanye West.

The RIAA clearly wasn’t honored by his lateness enough to give him the big prize (for the third time in a row) but at least hooked him up with a few rap awards and some airtime in front of the old Aggro Crag set from GUTS. Oh, and they also let us enjoy Daft Punk’s first. TV appearance. EVER. Take six and take this, haters.

As KSCR’s resident soft rock connoisseur, I enjoyed every smooth minute of the Channel101.com “series” Yacht Rock during its 10-episode run from 2005-2006. Each month J.D. Ryznar and Hunter Stair (of VH1’s short-lived Acceptable TV), along with a talented supporting cast, re-enacted the creative inspiration for the gentlest grooves of the late ’70s and early ’80s, lampooning everyone from Kenny Loggins to Michael Jackson to Warren G.

Since then, Yacht Rock has become a cultural mini-phenomenon (mostly amongst people who own a Michael McDonald solo album). Due to popular demand, the YR crew got together to make one last episode detailing the exegesis of “Footloose,” a story which may or may not involve a deranged Jimmy Buffet holding Loggins hostage and a climatic massacre of Parrotheads. Yah mo check it out.

(NSFW dialogue)