Related Content
More About
1. OUTKAST, Stankonia (LaFace/Arista) The glorious sound of three musics colliding. Rock. Hip-hop. Dance. It's a message of harmony, or is it? Maybe it's just Big Boi and Andre 3000 smoking out and haphazardly stumbling on a nearly revolutionary sound. Maybe they just harnessed the talent exhibited on their previous records. Whatever the origins, fidgety, unforgettable songs like "B.O.B." and "Ms. Jackson" pulsated like nothing else on the map. The year's only true revelation. (Richard A. Martin)
2. MODEST MOUSE, The Moon and Antarctica (Sony) Like sadness toting a tommy gun, there are some things you just can't outrun, and Isaac Brock seems to know that better than any of us. Art imitates life, and this time Brock's songs are geographically influenced and hauntingly ambivalent. Major label dollars provided the bucks for the album's expansive production, but the overall sound is, happily, same as it ever was. (Laura Learmonth)
3. YO LA TENGO, . . . And Nothing Turned Itself Inside-Out (Matador) Their "marriage album," sure, but what matters is that Yo La Tengo sound so familiar, so comfortable. Georgia and Ira cover for each other like a slipcover covers a chair, summoning the warmth of a sweater in autumn. Figuratively and literally, "You Can Have It All" sounds like a wish fulfilled. (Michaelangelo Matos)
4. GRANDADDY, The Sophtware Slump (V2) Spaced-out sounds for a world that has yet to be discovered, retro- futuristic songs for a people that don't yet exist. Grandaddy know the things we only dream of, but they repeat them, tease them, and subvert them until they become nearly nonsensical. An album in the true sense of the word, when given full breathing room or played live, it seems more like a dream. (L.L.)
5. QUASIMOTO, The Unseen (Stones Throw) Lootpack member Madlib tweaks his vocals into a genderless nether region that interacts with his natural voice like a dialogue between the rational mind and the slippery subconscious. Matched with a sample smorgasbord that imagines Sign O' the Times as produced by Prince Paul, Madlib conjures the most seductive daydream nation hip-hop has heard since 3 Feet High & Rising. (M.M.)
6. RYAN ADAMS, Heartbreaker (Bloodshot) We loved him in Whiskeytown, but on his own, he's somehow even more amazing. Adams shares a birth date with the man that started it all, Gram Parsons, and the cracked vocals, wonderfully strummed guitar lines, and longed-for lyrics on this collection of alt-country ballads and rockin' stompers assert that something truly cosmic occurs whenever someone enters the universe on November 5. (L.L.)
7. BETTIE SERVEERT, Private Suit (Palomine) Simultaneously embracing and transcending DIY obscurity, this back-from-the-dead Dutch band have never sounded sweeter or more tart. Just because frontwoman Carol Van Dyk isn't going to take your shit anymore doesn't mean she doesn't love you. And vice versa. (M.M.)
8. THE GO-BETWEENS, The Friends of Rachel Worth (Jet Set) Reunited after 10 years and it sounds so damn good. These two Australian popsters are punked up by Sam Coomes and Sleater-Kinney on what's a bit of a departure from previous Go-Between records but an absolute gem nonetheless. The two-songwriter schematic means the album's jangly, bouncing energy never relents. (L.L.)
9. DE LA SOUL, Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump (Tommy Boy) Rare are the hip-hop innovators who not only persevere but forge ahead. De La Soul sprinkle in a pinch of irreverence, too. These Long Islanders bob up and down alongside the zeitgeist, teasing the demographic-friendly trends, slyly twisting R&B one moment, grooving into a booty-shaking hip-hop hit ("Oooh," with Redman on the mic) the next. (R.A.M.)
10. GREEN VELVET, Green Velvet (F-111/ Warner Bros.) A concept album about the pitfalls of professional hedonism, compiled from five years' worth of underground house singles. From a guided tour of a haunted house (I mean, dance club) in "Flash" to Green Velvet's abduction by aliens while doing the dishes, it's funnier than hell and sounds like it was made there. (M.M.)
11. COLDPLAY, Parachutes (Nettwerk) The Brits exported a heaping handful of notable discs to the United States in 2000 (and didn't bother with others, such as the fantastic Bluetones album Science and Nature). While fans and press drooled and debated over Travis and Radiohead, Coldplay's Parachutes offered the best of both their compatriots' worlds: likable pop songs with constructions complex enough to challenge listeners. It's a sinuous, at times moving collection, with vocals that recall Jeff Buckley's and just enough bite on the guitars. (They're excused for selling their single, "Yellow," to ABC as an ad jingle for TV's fall season.) (R.A.M.)
12. BRIGHT EYES, Fevers and Mirrors (Saddle Creek) Somewhere inside Conor Oberst's doe-eyed head, a marching band, two million sad soldiers strong, deploys daily, setting off to attack the far reaches of his imagination. It's obvious that the raw, metaphor-laced songs have a life of their very own. What scares me is that we've seen this kind of talent before, and it often burns out before it fades away. (L.L.)
13. JAMES CARTER, Chasin' the Gypsy (Atlantic) In the year Ken Burns decided that a century of jazz culminated in the Lincoln Center Orchestra's covering "Take the 'A' Train," quantum saxophonist James Carter's tribute to Django Reinhardt strikes a righteous chord. Living history, my ass—this nimble, gorgeous music takes liberties, breathes fire, and makes mere revivalism sound like a crime against history. (M.M.)
