Carrie Rodriguez has had what may be viewed as a “simple” path to career success. She grew up in Austin at the feet of her father, folk songwriter/musician David Rodriguez. Her bio continues:

After sitting in on a sound check with her dad’s old Houston pal Lyle Lovett, she detoured from a degree as a classical violinist at Oberlin Conservatory and set herself on course to become a fiddler at the Berklee College of Music. There, her teacher, Matt Glaser, and her fellow students, including roommate Casey Driessen, helped her “find my groove and let go of that wall I had put up as a classical player.”

Another turning point came when Rodriguez met veteran songwriter Chip Taylor (“Wild Thing,” “Angel of the Morning”), who soon had Rodriguez touring and recording, and encouraged her to sing and write.

She recorded four albums with Taylor before going solo in 2006. And since then, I gather, she has not needed to look back. Her sixth album, Give Me All You Got, was released early this year.

In truth, I don’t know how “straightforward” or “simple” this career path has been. I also don’t think it matters, at least to a music outsider: all that counts is the music. If you’re good enough to listen to twice, let alone three or four times, that’s good enough for me.

“Lake Harriet” appears on that sixth album. In this live performance, Rodriguez and her backup musicians flirt with the lyrics and melody — turning the number into less a plain love song than a subtle tease, complete with fingersnaps. I love it.

[Lyrics]

By the way, in case you’re wondering: yes, there really is a Lake Harriet in Minneapolis. Wikipedia reports all the usual straightforward facts, then adds this little twist:

On the walking path near where Queen Avenue T’s into the perimeter drive around the lake, there is an “elf house” carved into the base of an ash tree. For several years, one could leave a letter for the elf supposedly living there and find a letter in reply sometime in the next few days. During the winter season, the elf door is shut and a plank appears stating he has “moved to his castle in the east.” It reopens around springtime.

(Of course that’s the elk elf house in the photo at right; click for a larger view, including more of the surroundings for scale.)