CDVS

Make no mistake--meditation is the rage. Doctors and Left Coast gurus alike are praising the health benefits of surfing brain waves and all that third-eye business, and wouldn't it just behoove we fast-lane, Type A folk to focus on something other than Friendster and Ryan Seacrest's hair for just a few minutes a day. This, of course, is the logical fallout of the yoga craze, in which we poseurs quickly learned, upon buying our Calvin Klein tapas mats and signing up for the 95-degree asana fest at the local 24 Hour Fitness, that centering your mind was just as important as getting your Downward Dog on.

But how exactly do we beckon nirvana? Is twisting oneself into a tangled Slinky to the sounds of East Asian ambience the only impetus for consciousness? Or does all it take is a groove for us to trance out to? We test both methods here, with a Yoga Journal DVD in one corner, and the latest installment of the OM Lounge series in the other.

The latter comes to us from San Francisco's seminal house music label, OM Records. The imprint's namesake is slightly misleading, as the tempo and instrumentation of its downtempo house and soul are hardly repetitive. But, as evidenced on OM Lounge 8--a showcase of OM's most recent releases--it's the sort of music that can compel one to reflect in stillness. There's something very transporting and enlightening about the 13-song collection, whether you consider its wealth of subdued global rhythms or its lulling vocalizations. During a test of its meditative potential, most of the tracks' elements blended together so well, it helped incite vivid cerebral awareness. Sometimes, though, a song was so good it distracted from the task at hand--namely, house music giant Mark Farina's "Dream Machine," accompanied by soulful singer Sean Hayes. Regardless, it still took us to a better place.

As for the DVD, the emphasis seems to be not on the music--perhaps lifted from those mood-setting CDs that Target sells on its candle shelves--but the physical facilitation of transcendence. During its meditation portion, renowned yoga instructor Rodney Yee seeks the threshold of your flexibility, while urging you to be vigilant toward your steady breathing and elevate yourself from the moment. Problem is, attaining liftoff isn't so effortless given Yee's rapid shifting of sitting positions and simultaneous play-by-play of the action. It's fine the first time around, when you're constantly wondering how he double-knots those nimble stems of his. But after practicing a few times, you're looking for the closed-caption button on the remote--or better yet, the function button that returns you to the pacifying atmosphere of the OM Lounge.--Mike Prevatt