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Genetically programmed for your listening pleasure >> Considering the family tree before approaching the Christmas tree by RUPERT BOTTENBERG
With the magic of genetic science on your side, choosing CDs for your Christmas gift-list becomes as easy as dee-en-ay. Heredity is the key.
First off, there's the direct approach, which does not factor in any generation gap. Let's say mom loves disco--no small embarrassment at weddings, where the "funky mom" dance reigns supreme. Of course, you'll get her the Disco Forever compilation on BBE, selected by Dimitri from Paris, who should know. Two discs of underrated disco gems and a third remixing them Stars-on-45-style. Should keep the old bat busy. Dad, meanwhile, never surrendered his rock-pig allegiance (ever wonder who's actually paying like, $80 to see AC/DC?). So snag him a copy of Sony's Riff Rock High--the Nuge, Foghat, Boston, ELO and more '70s classic rock classics. Logically, you get their rugrat a copy of Strut's Disco Not Disco comp. A celebration of that brief flare-up in the early '80s when surly, roquiste art-punks were soundclashing with the Paradise Garage types, this CD collects some prime disco/punk 12" extended plays (remixing didn't really exist at that point). You've got Ian Dury, a young Bill Laswell, Don Cherry, Yoko Ono (!), Steve Miller Band (!!) and Liquid Liquid's "Cavern," source material for the now-famous "White Lines." 
Our second model requires a certain element of extrapolation, but within reasonable parameters. In this hypothetical case, mom never got over the Fab Four and their engaging, adventurous pop (or their accents). Get her 1, the collection of all the Beatles' number-1 hits. Dad was more the coffeehouse folk type, but appreciated some cynical bite with his pastoral charm. He'll enjoy the Phil Ochs reissues on Collector's Choice Music. Ochs was sort of "the other Dylan," only far more grounded and comprehensible than ol' Bob ever was. Go for Pleasures of the Harbor, which marked Ochs' shift to the orchestrated folk-rock thing. 
Combine the two and fast-forward 30 years and you're getting their offspring the Belle and Sebastian Lazy Line Painter Jane 3-CD hard-to-find EP collection, from Matador. The honey's in the lovely, rustic orch-pop tunes; the vinegar's in the bitter yet compassionate lyrics. The third model requires a more inventive gift-giver. Say dad always dug the Rat Pack and their smoky, casual cool. Get him Music To Watch Girls By, a bachelor's bounty of Vic Damone, Buddy Greco, Stan Getz etc. Mom, for her part, still pines for her student days in France and the romantic, traditional yet cosmopolitan je ne sais quoi she found there. She'll enjoy World Musette by les Primitifs du Futur, the sepia-toned gypsy rag band with cartoonist R. Crumb in it. 
Distill the essence of the two, follow that through to the current day and then factor in the evolution of pop music over that time, and you come out with Arthur H's Pour Madame X. Regarded as the Gallic Tom Waits, Monsieur H strikes a perfect balance of eerie nostalgia and contemporary chic. Note "Indiana Lullaby," featuring Montreal's Lhasa de Sela. Now, as for uncle Larry, the one who never got married and keeps forgetting his medication--sorry, can't help you there. Maybe an inflatable Dolly-the-clone-sheep doll to keep him company? 
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