Whenever I run into my audiophile doppelganger, Music Hall's Leland Leard, I'm sure to ask him about what's new in his playlist.

"Have you heard the new Imani Coppola?" he asked.

"Nope."

"Oh, I've gotta play it for you..."

Leland dropped everything—two phono preamps, a bottle of Scotch, a pretty girl's phone number, Roy Hall's pants—and skipped over to the CD player to share some music with me.

Soon, Imani was singing, and I could easily hear why Leland's been so into her. Leland likes his music raunchy.