When I get new CDs - whether in the mail or digitally delivered - I feel like a kid on Christmas. I can't wait to tear into the padded envelope, take a perfunctory glance through the press release and take my first listen. In a lot of ways, I have the same response to a new bottle of cheap shampoo or shower gel. Today's CDs - one from a singer-songwriter and the other by a deceased 16-year-old Brazilian boy - are enough to jump up and down about. But, as I got home was slipping the discs into my MacBook, the thing that was really making me salivate was the album from a local musician that was slowly downloading to my computer.