CDVS: Various Artists, Escape St. Barth's Vs. David Harness, Heartbeat

Jenna was a party girl, someone who couldn't be bothered to stay home because life was all about seeing and, most importantly, being seen. During the night, she'd make the nightspot rounds with her girls, and when the sun was up she had a tour of duty then, too--the mall, Coffee Bean, the gym and, most importantly, the beauty salon. In her short-attention-span world, three hours in the salon was an eternity; she rarely spent more the 45 minutes in any given club, even when table service was involved.

But she didn't mind. There was always scenester scuttlebutt with the staff, which was always witty and sycophantic, and she often enjoyed the tunes spun by the in-house DJ. Like any other beautification outpost, the sounds of deep and exotic house were predominant. It was ironic--not her word--that Miss ADD connected with such sophisticated music. But there was a comfort in that sound, and Jenna sunk into her chair as the DJ cued up an album--Escape: St. Barth's.

Jenna immediately found a groove with this particular collection, an anonymously mixed comp with house standards that were both lulling and stimulating. She was already familiar with some of it-- Junior Jack and Gus Gus were faves, and Tim Deluxe's shoreside anthem, "It Just Won't Do," was still a ubiquitous nighttime presence. But she reveled in some new discoveries--in particular, house legend Roger Sanchez's gorgeous "Another Chance." "Turn it up, Barry," she yelled to the DJ, and when he did, it got her mind off this particularly irksome coloring session. If this is what St. Barth's sounded like, she was so there next season.

Once that was done, Barry began a new mix by DJ David Harness. "What's this one called?" asked Jenna. "Heartbeat--something a little deeper for you, baby," said Barry. Jenna sank into her chair and let the gentle waves of 4/4 rhythm soul wash over her, as if she were taking a pre-dawn breather on a day bed. This mix was subtler, more colorful and heavy on the vocals, from Alma Horton's R&B-kissed "Gimme That Music" to Brian Alexander Morgan's expressive "Don't U Worry." She couldn't sing along, but she pretended and tried mouthing out the words anyway. Ah, bliss.

Before she left, Jenna would snake both albums from Barry, figuring he was hardly short on house promo discs. She might've just lifted one, but she was riddled by indecision. And besides, Jenna was a girl who had to have it all.--Mike Prevatt