Nothing says "summertime" like George Gershwin's classic. But give it a little help. These new tunes are worth downloading for your months of "living easy."

FOR A SUNNY MORNING

Fidelity. Moscow-born singer Regina Spektor first heard American pop in the 1980s--via her father's bootlegged cassettes. This song, with synthesized euro-percussion, a plucked harp, and the glimmer of Billie Holiday in Spektor's voice, blends global influences like only American pop could.

FOR ROAD TRIPPING

Hamoa Beach. Gomez's geometric rock and British-accented vocals sound so brainy it's easy to miss the humor in this song about working up the nerve to leave a dead-end relationship: She'll never leave/And you can never throw her out/Impossible to conceive ... That's just the fear talking.

Black & Blue. Jayhawks drummer Tim O'Reagan proves he can craft tight, Beatlesque pop and that he's comfortable straying from the alt-country that won his band acclaim.

A Cockeyed Optimist. Twangy yet graceful, Reba McEntire was perfectly cast as nurse Nellie Forbush in last year's Carnegie Hall production of South Pacific.

FOR LOUNGING

People Gonna Talk. Channeling Sam Cooke's pipes and King Curtis's horns, Brit James Hunter is such an unabashed throwback he sounds original. Even the lyrics embody old-school vernacular: Carry my heart with you/Or you can drop it like a stone/But please let that decision be your own.

The Way It Is. With electric organ solos and symphonic embellishments, Donavon Frankenreiter's lounge funk is ideal poolside music. His cool resignation is a beach bum's credo.

Rome (Wasn't Built in a Day). Arthur Conley's previously unreleased cut (part of an Atlantic Unearthed: SoulBrothers compilation), as much shouted as sung, is an instant party. Close runner-up: R.B. Greaves's soul-drenched take on the weird "Whiter Shade of Pale."

FOR HOT, LANGUID NIGHTS

Someday. Eldar Djangirov, a dazzling young pianist born and raised in Kirgizstan, covers lots of jazz standards, but his composition is a chordy maelstrom that owes as much to Bruce Hornsby as it does to Cole Porter.

Hit the Road to Dreamland. When the party's over, fire up Dr. John's lazy take on Johnny Mercer's number. The lonely sax and Doc's grinning vocals over a bluesy piano will make you feel like you're saying goodnight to Bourbon Street.