bought for a song; More than ever, fashion and music exist in sweet harmony.

Byline: Robert Sullivan

When we are shopping, it is possible to experience two cutting edges at the same time, the fashion one and the music one. The two are linked-a fact we know in our bones, and not just in the tiny ones that doctors tell us are in our ears. Both are trend-oriented; yesterday's bubble skirts have gone the way of early-eighties rock, making room for the pencil silhouette on the fashion side and, on the music side, for the musical descendants of the Band, such as Spoon. And more and more, fashion retailers and designers are taking music to the next level, or at least selling it-with record compilations of their own; in some cases, they're becoming musicians. "Now shopping is more than just shopping," says Brett Brooks, a buyer at Los Angeles's Ron Herman who moonlights as a producer and a deejay and is the ear behind the Ron Herman-branded music label, Invisible DJ. "It's a sensorial experience."

A recent excursion around Manhattan was like a trip into the history of music and shopping in twenty-first-century America and Europe. At Prada on Fifth Avenue, the sophisticated and relaxing music emanating from somewhere made the visitor feel, when he closed his eyes, much cooler than he in fact is; at Versace, the clerk, when asked the name of a particular tune, referred to the mixes assembled (and offered for sale) by the Hotel Costes and Buddha Bar. In the fashion/sound world, these discs mark historic moments, according to Julian Treasure, the chairman of London-based the Sound Agency and author of Sound Business. Both venues "defined themselves with sound," Treasure says.

And now everyone is doing the same. Leanne Flask is vice president of music design at DMX and works with brand marketers to help define "musical DNA" for places as varied as DKNY and Chanel in hopes of increasing sales (happy sensorial experience equals increased tendency to stay and spend, Treasure notes). "The biggest thing we do is create the sound of the brand," Flask says. "It's not really song picking. . . . If the brand is all about being authentic and genuine, then you're not going to play something that's highly produced, like Paris Hilton, but you might play Eric Clapton."

Some designers manage to coordinate their music and fashion more completely. The YSL store plays, among others, Philip Glass, solo piano, which also accompanied the fall runway show. Parisian deejay Michel Gaubert and collaborator Marie Branellec "design" the aural eclectic cool atmosphere at Colette, which includes music from Cut Chemist, Spankrock, and Barry White. But other designers allow, and even encourage, shop clerks to curate their sounds. Visiting Marc Jacobs is like being at a college radio station too good to exist, featuring most recently a playlist that manages to reflect the look of Marc Jacobs: a little bit old-school (Eazy-E), a little bit West Coast (Elliott Smith), a little haute fashion (Blonde Redhead), and acts that cut across all three categories, like the Fiery Furnaces, Jamie Lidell, and Les Savy Fav.

Among smaller boutiques, the staff-song relationship is the battery in the fashion-music engine. "When I'm addicted to something, I play it a lot," ...