If a jukebox was a Pandora’s box, then an iPod might be a dead giveaway. And so, as fate would have it, one Samantha Z. Lee’s very own smoking gun would out her for all her crimes, all her passions—all her derivative crimes of passion. To wit: a history of keeping it all in (The Hero Dies In This One, The Ataris), and a subplot of letting it all out (Make It Happen, The Teenagers), i.e. through her vicious puns, vehicular films, and voracious identification with paperback antiheroes. Add to that: a good-times, all-the-time love angle (This Modern Love, Bloc Party), a wardrobe of prep (Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa, Vampire Weekend—cue: Is your bed made? Is your sweater on? Can you stay up to see the dawn? In the colors of Benetton); a soundtrack of fight (Stronger, Kanye West—see: love of antiheroes, above); and… perfect light (Let’s Go Surfing, The Drums—incidentally, first cultivated from a 2-week solo backpacking trip through the shores of Australia, while on AWOL from her exchange program in Melbourne). If all this sounds very singular (let’s not use the word indie), then that is just the point. Sam has the power to find the obscure in the worldwide, to weed out the right from the right now, and to love things even before people like them. The selection is vast; the editing, clean. And so goes the muzak to a transcendental, self-referential time capsule: a set list of songs that place us right smack in the middle of the mise-en-sam—They were never really in so they’ll never be out.