How many do you own now?

Without question, the last decade has seen a massive shift in the way we collect music, with an emphasis on the collect – thanks to mp3s, music has become one big all-you-can-eat buffet, devaluing everything from bootlegs to boxed sets while changing the definition of “huge collection” from hundreds of CDs to tens of thousands of binary files. And it seems like we’ve all become aware of a lot more music, too — this decade lacked a true superstar artist, but if you look back on the last ten years, chances are you’ll remember a handful of songs you fell in love with by artists most people have never heard of. Top 40 is dead, and now you’re the DJ.

Like our list of the decade’s best singles, our albums list is a blend of the major and the obscure — much like your own ever-expanding library, we imagine. How many of these do you own? How many did we miss? Let us hear about it in the comments!

100. Scott Walker, The Drift
The ultimate in hipster cred, The Drift is an album that will be claimed by many who have never heard it. One-time superstar Scott Walker remains as perturbing, disturbing, impenetrable, and brilliant as ever. –Ken Shane

99. The Streets, Original Pirate Material
England’s kinder, gentler, more literate answer to Eminem, the Streets advised you to “grab your sack and sit back” as one man act Mike Skinner sets out to “knock down your aerial” with his garage beats and clever and harmonic rhymes. Although mixing in a few tender apology songs and occasionally venturing into the political, Skinner generally focuses on his own social life and the perils of drinking too much in the familiar underworld of his favorite pubs, and delivers some tremendous music in the process. –Zack Dennis

98. Daft Punk, Discovery
French robots Daft Punk deliver one of the most versatile electronic albums of all time on Discovery, creating an album that is equal parts funk (”Harder Better Faster Stronger”), smoove R&B (”Something About Us”), prog (”Aerodynamic”), and straight-up pop (”Digital Love,” “One More Time”). So good that the band hasn’t come close to replicating its awesomeness. Of course, they’ve only tried once since then, but that sort of proves our point. –David Medsker

97. Bruce Springsteen, We Shall Overcome: The Seeger Sessions
The Boss pays tribute to the aging icon of American song with a loose and rollicking hootenanny. What could have been a head-shaking vanity project turned out to be one of the most cohesive musical statements he’s ever made, with “Jesse James” and “Pay Me My Money Down” as highlights. –Dave Lifton

96. David Bowie, Heathen
David Bowie has made some creative decisions that would make some artists blanch, but since they already call him the Thin White Duke anyway, he was able to get away with the decision to reunite with producer Tony Visconti for the first time in over two decades (they hadn’t worked together since Scary Monsters), only to say, “Look, there’s this song by the Legendary Stardust Cowboy that I’ve really been wanting to tackle…” Oh, come on, David, you know we’re only teasing: Heathen is actually quite a strong album, mixing an old-school Bowie vibe (“Slip Away,” “Slow Burn”) with a modern sound (“A Better Future”), adding guest guitar from Pete Townshend and Dave Grohl, and even tackling the Pixies’ “Cactus.” After absorbing its grooves, then digging on the almost-as-strong follow-up (2003’s Reality), we really only have one question: why hasn’t Bowie bothered to give us anything new since then? –Will Harris

95. KT Tunstall, Eye to the Telescope
Available in the U.K. (and nominated for the Mercury Music Prize) months before its U.S. release, the alternately gorgeous and playful Eye to the Telescope finally arrived here with an accompanying alt-rock hype-fest that belied Tunstall’s actual folk-pop roots. Beyond the hits “Black Horse and the Cherry Tree” and “Suddenly I See,” Tunstall imbued tracks as disparate as the caustic “Another Place to Fall” and the delicate “Under the Weather” with quirky Scottish charm. –Jon Cummings

94. Kanye West, 808s & Heartbreak
If Kanye West was interested in raking in the dough, he probably wouldn’t have made a record as polarizing as 808s. Yeah, Auto-Tune was all the rage a year or so ago, but this was no T-Pain assisted Top 40 rap. Much of the music on 808s is cold, spare and disarmingly personal — sounding more like Thom Yorke than Lil Wayne. Surprisingly, the switching of gears resulted in a great album, and perhaps not so surprisingly, Kanye continued to rake in the dough. –Mike Heyliger

93. Kirsty MacColl, Tropical Brainstorm
Her previous album may have dwelled on her divorce from Steve Lillywhite, but MacColl’s last album before her tragic death in 2000 finds her in a much happier place. She had recently discovered Cuban music, and its natural energy proved to be a perfect fit for MacColl’s warped sense of humor, telling tales of online chats with porn salesmen (”Here Comes That Man Again”), a pop singer turning the tables and stalking one of her fans (”Treachery”), and discovering that her lover has a wife and family (”England 2 Colombia 0″). The Popdose staff pours out a 40 every December 18 in her honor, while dancing around in our socks, of course. –DM

92. Brian Wilson, That Lucky Old Sun
If Brian Wilson completing SMiLE was the most shocking thing to happen in his late-age renaissance, then not too far behind was him following it up with another song cycle of original material that was nearly as good. Built around the historical themes found in the Los Angeles of Wilson’s youth, and musical themes partly based on the 1949 standard that doubles as the title track, That Lucky Old Sun is an exploration of what could best be (and oxymoronically) termed “fresh nostalgia,” as Wilson revisits both his ascendancy and breakdown via descriptions of the Southern California backdrop. There are hints — both lyrically and musically — of previous Wilson compositions: “Live Not Die” feels like a happier “’Til I Die.” “Going Home” personalizes the themes of “Back Home” (from the Beach Boys’ 15 Big Ones), only the journey is not to the country, but back into a normal existence after his infamous breakdown in the late 1960s. Finally, “Surf’s Up” finds a new cousin in the haunting ballad “Midnight’s Another Day,” which by the way, is one of the most beautiful things Wilson has ever created. –Matthew Bolin

91. David Cross, Shut Up, You Fucking Baby
Patton Oswalt may have missed our list by splitting the vote with Feelin’ Kinda Patton and Werewolves & Lollipops, but if we’ve got to have one man flying the stand-up flag, David Cross will do nicely. Mind you, Cross put out a pair of albums himself, but although 2004’s It’s Not Funny didn’t live up to its title, it’s his sprawling 2-disc opus from 2002 which remains his masterpiece. After getting rid any nonbelievers with non sequitur track titles like “Shaving the Pope’s Pussy” and “Diarrhea Moustache,” Cross waxes hilarious on growing up Jewish in the South (“Do y’all’s people eat oatmeal?”), skewers the Catholic Church, reveals his hatred of DJs and the misuse of the word “literally,” and speaks first-hand to the effects of 9/11 on New York before launching into a fierce but hysterical tirade on George W. Bush. You’ll wince repeatedly, but you’ll still laugh heartily. –Will Harris

90. Josh Rouse, Nashville
Less buoyant, and less an explicit genre exercise than was his previous album, the mellow-gold masterpiece “1972,” “Nashville” somehow manages to resonate even more deeply. It captures country music’s themes of personal crisis rather than the sound of the music itself — it’s full of references to Rouse’s failed marriage and to the demon liquor. This is the kind of music that has no place on pop radio today, but might have ruled the charts 30 years ago — before all the best pop songwriters relocated to Nashville. –JC

89. Joe Jackson, Volume 4
JJ proved he still had some bullets left to fire in 2003, reuniting the punky-smart band that kicked off his career with Look Sharp two decades before. Updating the sound, he’s ever so sophisticated in his understanding of romantic relationships and they many turns they take. If you can lay hands on the “limited edition,” you get a smokin’ live bonus CD that includes the most intense version of “Got the Time” the band’s ever recorded. – Mojo Flucke

88. The Feeling, Twelve Stops and Home
A left-field smash in their native England, this Sussex quintet’s debut overflows with classic pop songs that recall a different chapter of ’70s rock, namely the Supertramp/10cc section. Think Breakfast in America, only bigger. And better. –DM

87. Catherine Wheel, Wishville
Putting “The” before their name for the first time did in the Catherine Wheel, as Wishville would be their final album. Its guitar-heavy, almost hard rock vibe and stripped-down feel stood in stark contrast to their previous works, and turned off a lot of folks (including most critics). I’m always one to go against the grain, so it’s one of my favorite records of the decade thanks to the gritty riffs of “Gasoline” and the sparkling pop of “What We Want To Believe In.” Maybe another listen now will change some opinions? –DS

86. Elliott Smith, Figure 8
From a Basement on the Hill, in retrospect, was too scattershot, too plagued by Smith’s absence to be a definitive record of his presence. Figure 8, with its layers and ruminative impressionism and SoCal-meets-Abbey Road pedigree, was his true farewell. -–Rob Smith

85. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, No More Shall We Part
Subject: Nick Cave. Place of Birth: Warracknabeal, Australia. Base of Operations: London, England. Project Under Consideration: 2001 album No More Shall We Part. Over/Under of Bad Seeds: 9 full-timers, plus string section. Sound: remarkably hushed and melancholy; arrangements built on Cave’s own piano, Warren Ellis’s violin, and backing vox by the McGarrigle sisters. Highlights: “Love Letter,” aching and sentimental; “We Came Along This Road,” regretful and anguished. Current Projects: various screenplays; Grinderman; Fu Manchu ‘tache. –Jack Feerick

84. The Thorns, The Thorns
No matter how many times you do the math – guy who did “Girlfriend” + guy who did “Lullaby” + guy who did “If You Don’t Love Me (I’ll Kill Myself)” – you’ll still be stymied as to how the trio of Matthew Sweet, Shawn Mullins, and Pete Droge came up with a collection of acoustic pop songs quite as lovely as these. Each gentleman is such a strong solo artist that you’d expect a project combining the three of them to explode in a glorious conflagration of egos; instead, their self-titled, Brendan-O’Brien-produced album provided us with 11 wonderful co-written originals, offered up a sublime take on the Jayhawks’ “Blue,” and even let a solo Sweet composition (“Now I Know”) slip into the set list. To date, the Thorns’ self-titled album remains a one-off, but we’re still waiting for the day when these glorious bastards decide to give it another go. –WH

83. Wilco, A Ghost Is Born
How do you follow up a masterpiece? With another masterpiece, of course. –Ed Murray

82. They Might Be Giants, No!
If you had told me, 20 years ago, that They Might Be Giants would one day be the de facto house band for the Disney Channel, I would have told you, “Disney what, now? Dude, I don’t have cable.” I knew TMBG trafficked in catchy absurdity that got a rise out of my inner nine-year old, but the thought of extending their appeal to actual children would have seemed bizarre. And yet here we are at the end of the Aughts, and Professor Flans and J. Linell, Doctor of Funkology, have carved out a sweet little second career. This, their first album for kids, is probably their best; before they locked into their Schoolhouse Rock-style themes — Here Come the ABCs!, Here Comes the 1-2-3s!, Here Comes Keynesian Economic Theory! — the Johns were able to make a children’s album that was also a They Might Be Giants album — prickly, tinged with darkness, and occasionally quite lovely. –JF

81. XTC, Wasp Star
After Messrs. Partridge and Moulding escaped from Geffen Records’ icy clutches and onto their own label (Idea Records, distributed via Cooking Vinyl), the creative juices were flowing so fast and furious that they were able to produce two full albums worth of material. Though they’re known amongst the fans as Apple Venus, Vol. 1 and Apple Venus, Vol. 2, the second volume is more commonly recognized by its subtitle, Wasp Star, and while it’s decidedly less string-laden than its predecessor, the result is that the pop songs feel a bit cheerier. (Indeed, the phrase “stupidly happy” might even come into play.) Moulding’s “Standing in for Joe” is top notch, and even if there are some easily substantiated reports that our man Andy can be a bit testy at times, anyone who can write tunes of the caliber of “Playground” and “The Wheel and the Maypole” still deserves our respect. –WH

80. Suzanne Vega, Songs in Red and Gray
Fresh off her recent divorce from producer Mitchell Froom, the normally guarded Vega bares her soul and in the process delivers her most personal album to date and one of the greatest breakup albums of all time. Rupert Hine’s production is warm and uncluttered, and Vega’s songs cover the fallout from a number of angles, addressing the children (”Soap and Water”) and the ways that small comments suggest larger problems (”If I Were a Weapon”). Sad without being bitter, pain has rarely been so beautiful. –DM

79. Eminem, The Eminem Show
Following up one of the best rap albums of all time in the Marshall Mathers LP with the weight of pretty much the entire world on your shoulders couldn’t have been an easy task for Slim Shady. The Eminem Show took a more reflective tone with its lyrics, relying slightly less on pure violence and shock value and more on a “here, take a look inside my life” stance. “Without Me” gave him his biggest hit to date and he even featured his daughter Hallie on “My Dad’s Gone Crazy.” While future releases have been better than 90% of the rap released these days, The Eminem Show might be the last great album Eminem will make. –DS

78. The Duckworth Lewis Method, The Duckworth Lewis Method
The purest pop music in years, maybe decades, comes from Neil Hannon (from The Divine Comedy) and Pugwash’s Thomas Walsh. So what if it’s a concept album about the sport of Cricket? –Dw. Dunphy

77. Gnarls Barkley, St. Elsewhere
You know the CD review cliche about how an album would deserve to be considered a classic based solely on the inclusion of “(INSERT SONG TITLE HERE)”? Well, in this case, you may insert “Crazy,” possibly the only song to be covered by every single person ever…and if that’s an exaggeration, it’s probably only by about 12 people, because, seriously, everyone turned in a version of it by the end of 2006. Yes, even the Violent Femmes, though it was only fair, since Gnarls Barkley turned in a fine version of their classic “Gone Daddy Gone.” St. Elsewhere is an album full of pop hooks and dance grooves, and if Danger Mouse and Cee-Lo Green never manage to match it, it hardly matters. –WH

76. Andrew W.K, I Get Wet
If you like intellectual music, you’re in the wrong place. But if you want quick bursts of crazy rock energy and songs about partying, puking (many times after partying) and doin’ it with girls then Andrew W.K. is your man. I Get Wet is stupid and totally mindless and yet for some reason it’s irresistible too. –Dave Steed

75. PJ Harvey, Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea
Though I’d been a casual fan of her earlier work, this is the album that made me a true-blue fan of Ms. Polly Jean Harvey. Reviews I’ve read have called it her most accessible, most beautiful album and I don’t disagree. With its lush arrangements, ethereal vocals (well, ethereal for PJ) and a notable guest appearance by one Thom Yorke, Stories is arguably the album of her career – so far. –Kelly Stitzel

74. Opeth, Damnation
The reigning kings of the death metal/dark prog scene shock their audience with a gorgeous, straight-ahead classic rock album. Sure, the topics are as dire as ever, but Mikael Akerfeldt’s “clean” voice is just as persuasive as his dessicated metal growl. The cover art might scare your family, but the music might win them over anyhow. –DWD

73. The Cure, Bloodflowers
After Robert Smith and the gang offered up the all-too-appropriately-titled Wild Mood Swings in 1996, The Cure disappeared for the better part of half a decade, but when they returned, it was with the band’s best album since 1989’s Disintegration. Setting aside cheery pop songs like “Mint Car” and “Friday I’m In Love,” Smith dug deep into the darkness in an attempt to produce a set of songs which could live up to the sinister standards set by 1982’s Pornography and the aforementioned Disintegration, and if you’re the kind of gloomy Gus who likes that sort of thing, then there’s little question that he succeeded. Though it’s definitely not an album designed for rainy day listening (unless, of course, your interest is in not living to see another one), it’s easily the Cure’s strongest work of the decade and one of the most fully realized records within their discography. –WH

72. Crowded House, Time on Earth
Still grieving over the suicide of original Crowded House drummer, Paul Hester, the other two founding members of the defunct band, singer/songwriter Neil Finn and bassist Nick Seymour, found themselves collaborating on what was supposed to be Finn’s next solo album. Upon completing those sessions with producer Ethan Johns, Finn said to Seymour, “This feels like a Crowded House record.” Seymour agreed and suddenly the band was reborn. Mark Hart, the band’s longtime multi-instrumentalist, was called and they hired a new drummer (former Beck sideman, Matt Sherrod). The resurrected group then recorded four new tracks with Steve Lillywhite, including the two singles, “Don’t Stop Now” and “She Called Up,” and the album was completed. Amazingly, those songs fit in seamlessly with those from the original sessions. The sadness of Hester’s death is palpable throughout, the lyrics full of sad imagery and the music muted in a haze of melancholy chords and harmonies. Yet while death may have brought the band back to life, in the end there was plenty of reason to celebrate. Not only did Crowded House go on a prolonged tour that drew heavily from their eclectic catalog, but they determined that this wasn’t a one-off reunion. They are currently recording new tracks for a new album in 2010. –SM

71. My Morning Jacket, It Still Moves
The fact that the ultimately gorgeous vocals are soooo drenched in reverb still can be a little off-putting, but MMJ really hit their stride with this delicious slab of ’70s rawk-inspired modern-day Americana. –EM

70. Jimmy Eat World, Bleed American
With Bleed American, Jimmy Eat World helped bring emo music to the mainstream but unlike Dashboard Confessional, you didn’t necessarily want to bathe in a pool of your own blood after listening. They had a chance to be one of the biggest bands in the world if they had just continued releasing music. Thanks to long tours and releasing albums only once every three years they lost their luster with the mainstream mid-decade. –DS

69. Ryan Adams, Heartbreaker
The warning shot. In all, it sounded like a damn good Whiskeytown record—it could make you weep or entice you to dance on the bar, sometimes in the same song. Little did we know what wonderful stuff would come flooding out of the man in short order. -–RS

68. Marah, Angels of Destruction
My hands-down favorite album of the decade, from veteran Philly rockers. A sloppy, poppy country-rock-blues production along the lines of the Rolling Stones’ Exile on Main Street, it’s that good. Loosely a concept album, the record explores our good sides and bad. “Blue But Cool,” as one song title from the record aptly puts it. –MF

67. The Damnwells, One Last Century
Radiohead got all the attention for its “pay what you want” price model, but the Damnwells took the best album of their career, hooked up with Paste Magazine, and gave the whole thing away. One Last Century is equal parts tough and tender, a rock & roll serenade that can get down in the gutter (”Bastard of Midnight”) and then clean up real pretty (”Down with the Ship”). Plus, it’s got a track (”Closer Than We Are”) that makes the best use of bar imagery since the Replacements’ “Here Comes a Regular.” Did you miss the free download offer? Buy it now. Trust us, it’s worth the $8 and so much more. –Jeff Giles

66. Chris Whitley, Rocket House
In a career divided between naked Res-O-Phonic blues and knob-happy avant-pop, the late Chris Whitley trod an idiosyncratic path — two parts Blind Willie Johnson to three parts Prince. Rocket House isn’t quite his 1999, more his Around the World in a Day — a deep and haunting listen, but too flagrantly odd in its structures for rock radio. If anything, it sounds like a transmission from some parallel pop universe, cycling in between the sunspots on ghost-world shortwave. –JF

65. Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings, 100 Days, 100 Nights
Screw Mariah, Beyonce and Alicia with all their glamour. The best female R&B singer of the decade is a short, plump, fifty-something former correctional officer from Brooklyn. Sounding like the love child of James Brown and Tina Turner, Jones’ third, and best, record improves on the songwriting of her previous work, with “Tell Me,” “I’m Not Gonna Cry,” and the title track as the standouts. And if the sinewy, retro-soul/funk grooves of the awesome Dap-Kings don’t get your ass shaking, consult a physician. –DL

64. U2, All That You Can’t Leave Behind
It’s easy to write off a band after they’ve been around for awhile, but U2 have managed to defy the naysayers by opening the decade with this powerful statement, and closing it with another. “Walk On” indeed. –KS

63. Ryan Adams, Gold
After a critically acclaimed indie solo debut (2000’s Heartbreaker), singer/songwriter Ryan Adams signed with a Lost Highway and released 2001’s Gold, his breakthrough album. While his uptempo single, “New York, New York” became a minor radio hit (added to playlists soon after 9/11), it’s not even the album’s best song. “Answering Bell,” “Tina Toledo’s Street Walkin’ Blues” and the gorgeous “La Cienega Just Smiled” stand out among these 16 songs of heartbreak, bitter breakups. and haunting melodies. Gold established the cantankerous alt-country punk rock brat as one of the most promising artists of his generation. It also established him as one of the most prolific, as he would go on a tear, releasing new music over the course of the decade at a pace matched only by Prince in his heyday. Still, Gold remains one of Adams’ most consistent efforts and perhaps the most important of his short career. –Scott Malchus

62. Arctic Monkeys, Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not
“I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor”, the opening salvo from Arctic Monkeys, posited the notion of what would music be like if the ’80s and ’90s never happened. Mixing the vibe of ’70s UK punk and pop, with more than a knowing wink toward The Clash, the conclusion is that we would have been in good hands after all. –DWD

61. Tenacious D, Tenacious D
There are certain moments where the ridiculous becomes the sublime. Tenacious D is one of those moments, where music goes through the looking glass, and what is nonsense ends up being some kick ass rock and roll. The duality of the album-and the band-is part of both the confusion and the excitement of the final product. Is Tenacious D an actual band? Are Jack Black and Kyle Gass really musicians, or just actors playing musicians? Are they really serious about what they’re doing, or is the whole thing some sort of deep stoner, hipster irony? The movement of Black from rocker-comedian to movie star, together with the underwhelming movie and soundtrack package The Pick of Destiny, leads one to believe that the duo have blown the D’s collective wad. On their debut album, though, their kielbasas had yet to splooge, and Black and Gass come off with some brilliantly self-aware cock rock (“The Road,” “Double Team,” “Rock Your Socks”), acoustic
metal (“Explosivo,” “Dio”) and even prog (“Wonderboy,” “City Hall”). –MB

60. Lily Allen, Alright, Still
Lily Allen has the distinct honor of being the first truly successful MySpace artist. After being booted from her first recording contract without releasing a single note, the resourceful Allen joined the social networking site and began releasing her cheeky tales of revenge on cheating lovers and odes to both London and her stoner brother Alfie. It’s from these demos that Alright, Still was born. A blending of pop, ska, vocal jazz and grime the record showcased Allen’s dark humor and the considerable talents of Mark Ronson. –Michael Parr

59. Kanye West, Late Registration
Thought Kanye was going to settle after selling 3 million copies and winning a few Grammy Awards? Wrong. Mr. West gathered Jon Brion to expand the sound of his production and created an album as lauded for its sound as it was for its lyrics and vocals. If anything, you’ve gotta give Kanye credit for being one of the few commercial rappers out there making music for the sake of art as opposed to the sake of finance. –MH

58. Neko Case, Fox Confessor Brings The Flood
The greatest voice in pop today breaks from the alt-country of her earliest records, removing the twang but developing as a songwriter, giving us the sonic equivalent of a starry night that’s too quiet to fall asleep. The harmonies on “Star Witness” will make you swoon, until you realize that the song is about seeing a murder take place. And if “That Teenage Feeling” doesn’t bring a lump to your throat, you’ve never fallen in love. –DL

57. Dixie Chicks, Taking the Long Way
Still smarting from the events of 2003, country’s best band abandoned the genre (which had already abandoned them) and emerged three years later with an album of Rick Rubin-produced, singer/songwriter pop. They dealt with “the incident” via the dramatic “Not Ready to Make Nice” and the kiss-off “Lubbock or Leave It,” but they also acknowledged their hurt on the title track, “Easy Silence,” “Bitter End” and elsewhere. Much of it was soaked in martyrdom … which only made it resonate more amongst a music-shopping electorate fed up with the Bush administration, and amongst a recording industry that rewarded the group’s defiance with a (deserved) Grammy sweep. –JC

56. Broken Social Scene, You Forgot It in People
With subdued and distorted vocals added seemingly as an afterthought, Broken Social Scene made the most of its members’ strengths, as producer David Newfeld focused on producing a balanced mix of many, many instruments that is ultimately greater than the sum of its parts. The moody, dreary sound of the album fits well with the atmosphere of Toronto, the geographical centerpoint of its horde of talented musicians. The entire album evokes the spirit of a miserably lonely social existence, and the heartbreaking standout “Lover’s Spit” captures the youthful desperation for companionship and serves as a brilliant counterpoint to the achingly beautiful sweetness of “Anthem for a Seventeen Year Old Girl.” –ZD

55. Outkast, Stankonia
Stankonia may have been released nine years ago, but every listen is still exciting as if you heard it for the first time. Artists have had a decade to cop the mind boggling sounds from “B.O.B.” and “Ms. Jackson” but why bother when you know can’t match the most unique rap duo in the biz? –DS

54. Twilight Singers, Powder Burns
In an alternate universe, Greg Dulli is a superstar. One of two masterpieces, along with the Gutter Twins’ Saturnalia, that Dulli was involved with in the ’00s. Dense, powerful, incendiary. –KS

53. Portishead, Third
Fans of this British trip-hop band had been eagerly anticipating a new album from them for more than 10 years. And after being teased many, many times with the promise of new material, they finally got their wish with the appropriately-titled Third, which was released in 2008. I admit that I didn’t really connect with this album the first few times I heard it, but eventually, it grabbed me and hasn’t let go. If only they’d do a proper tour that hits more than a few cities… –KeSt

52. Kelly Clarkson, Breakaway
All the previous albums from Idolettes – including Clarkson’s debut — had been mushy, bandwagon-riding dreck, so the brilliant sonic blast that emerged from Breakaway came as something of a shock. Somehow, a cast of characters who’ve produced so much middling 21st-century pop (Kara DioGuardi, Max Martin, Clive Davis, etc.) here found unexpected emotional depths, and Clarkson rode a batch of great songs (she co-wrote half of them) to five Top-15 hits. –JC

51. Tom Waits, Real Gone
Mid-decade/post-millennial/garbage-can-smackin’, overdriven blues, alternately growled and crooned by the same Kerouackian carny we’ve grown to love over the last 40 years or so. If a city gutter could sing of what it has seen and learned in all its years as a city gutter, this is what it would sound like. -–Rob Smith

50. Randy Newman, Harps and Angels
Never the most prolific dude, Randy Newman released a single album in the 2000s of original material that wasn’t packed with orchestrations or songs designed for animated characters. He promised on NPR last year that he’d have another album ready in 2010, but given his track record, we shouldn’t hold our breath. Rather, we should just be thankful for Harps and Angels, which may be his most consistently satisfying collection since 1983’s Trouble in Paradise. Newman’s gift of creating subtly disturbing narrators is back in full force in songs like “Korean Parents” (which offers a deal for lazy white parents to turn their kids over to a culture which expects more from their children), and “A Few Words in Defense of Our Country,” which is such a biting piece of commentary on the way neo-Conservative hegemony transformed America’s image that the New York Times saw fit to publish the lyrics on their Op-Ed page. Of course, Newman is as much a sentimentalist as a curmudgeon, and that side of him is also strongly expressed in Harps and Angels. “Losing You” is one of the most beautiful love songs he has written, and his vocal performance on “Feels Like Home,” which originally appeared in 1995 on his “cast album” of his musical Faust, is so good that it nearly eclipses the original version, sung by Bonnie Raitt. –MB

49. The Darkness, Permission to Land
People had a tough time figuring out the Darkness. On record they sounded like a throwback to the early ’80s hard rock of AC/DC, Queen and Def Leppard. But lead singer Justin Hawkins’ histrionic yells, his outrageous behavior, and the band’s bawdy videos made the Darkness come off as a parody of those same bands. Whatever their intentions, the band’s debut, Permission to Land, fucking rocks. This music is dipped in a dirty pool of glam rock guitar riffs and Zeppelin-esque bravado. The four-song knockout punch of “Get Your hands Off My Woman,” “Growin’ on Me” (an ode to genital warts), “I Believe in a Thing Called Love,” and the epic power ballad, “Love Is Only a Feeling” is reason alone to own this album. There is so much great hard rock music on Permission to Land, and the Darkness seemed to garner enough hype, that fans of the genre had hope that a hard rock revival was underway. Unfortunately, Hawkins decided to live like he was an ’80s rock star and fell deeper and deeper into addiction. After the release of the follow-up album, One Way Ticket to Hell and Back, Hawkins quit the Darkness and the group ceased to exist. –SM

48. The Decemberists, Picaresque
The Decemberists’ breakthrough album Picaresque is essentially like a great collection of short stories written by talented students at Bowdoin college who had just finished reading books by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, William Faulkner, and Robert Louis Stephenson. The intriguing stories run from tales of lonely souls (”The Engine Driver” and “Eli the Barrow Boy”) to forbidden passion (”We Both Go Down Together” and “On the Bus Mall”) to doomed nautical voyages (”For My Own True Love [Lost at Sea])” and the unforgettable “Mariner’s Revenge Song”). The interesting array of exotic instruments that turn up in the songs and Colin Meloy’s ability to craft his stories into rhymes and fearlessly belt notes at the edge of his range make this album into a quirky delight that seems like it was as much fun to create as it is to listen to. –ZD

47. Coldplay, Viva La Vida, or Death and All His Friends
Allying at last with Brian Eno, as we always knew they would, Coldplay have finally abandoned their shtick as the poor man’s Radiohead to embrace their true destiny as the poor man’s U2. That’s not a slam; Chris Martin et al. are doing U2-style uplift better than U2 themselves, these days, and there will always be a market for uplift. Coldplay’s sheer eagerness to please puts them in the “guilty pleasure” category for many rock fans, but honestly: What’s so wrong about giving the people what they want? –JF

46. Ben Folds, Rockin’ the Suburbs
Freed from the limitations of his trio, Folds’ first solo album is more diverse and less raucous (only “Gone” and “Still Fighting It” approximate the Ben Folds Five sound), but full of the great melodies and quirky characters we’ve come to expect from him. The title track, and its “Weird Al” Yankovic-directed video, brilliantly skewered Fred Durst & co., and proved that Folds was still the best wiseass in rock this side of Randy Newman. And if “The Luckiest” doesn’t bring a lump to your throat, you don’t know what it’s like to meet your soulmate. –DL

45. Robbie Williams, Sing When You’re Winning
He was the world’s biggest pop star at the millennium – not that Americans cared – and Williams certainly sounded like he was riding high throughout his third solo album. Sing When You’re Winning consolidated his blend of dance-pop (“Rock DJ”), anthemic rock (“Supreme”) and grandiose balladry (“A Better Man”), all tied together with a self-referential cheekiness that was as off-putting to Americans as it was endearing to his fans everywhere else. –JC

44. Okkervil River, The Stage Names
Picking up where Colin Meloy and the Decemberists left off, Will Schaff tells the same sort of stories but distills them down to the pure emotional components without the complex narration. The album opens by telling us that life is “like a bad movie…” and then pulls us down a dark spiral into the world of the theatrical, finally wallowing in the wasted life of poet John Berryman before boarding the sloop John B with the intention of returning home to an existence somewhat more bearable.

43. Tool, Lateralus
Tool’s third studio album is the most challenging and rewarding album of their career so far. The band’s leanings to prog rock on the album and creation of the title track based around the Fibonacci sequence make this a great thinking man’s rock trek. –DS

42. Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova, Once: Music from the Motion Picture
Irishman Glen Hansard’s emotionally raw compositions and riveting vocals had never earned him much mainstream recognition during a decade-plus as leader of the Frames. Thank goodness, then, for his longtime bandmate John Carney, who wrote and directed a quirky little verite romance called Once for Hansard and his new partner, Czech-born Marketa Irglova. In the process they brought songs like “When Your Mind’s Made Up” and the Oscar-winning “Falling Slowly” to the masses, and initiated a life-imitates-art cycle that continues with the new, post-breakup Swell Season album. –JC

41. The National, Boxer
Striving for, and achieving a mastery of subtlety from the opening notes of “Fake Emipre,” The National sidles up to listeners and somehow has us back to their apartment before we’ve even realized that they bought us a drink. Matt Berninger’s murmuring baritone mixes beautifully with the complex instrumental arrangements and fills a room with proof of how much a prize this album actually is. –ZD

40. Kanye West, The College Dropout
Before he became hip-hop’s #1 prima donna, Kanye West was just a famous producer. Armed with a charming wit that masked his lyrical deficiencies, a bunch of sped-up soul samples and a whole heap of guests, he became a superstar with this stunning debut. The ego was already in place, but it was coupled with a sincerity and hunger rarely found in any music these days — let alone rap. –MH

39. System of a Down, Toxicity
Back in 2002, I was in a traffic jam next to a minivan containing a mom and about six teenage girls. Blaring out the window was “Chop Suey!” the first single from SOAD’s Toxicity. As it reached the chorus, everyone in the car, including Mom, screamed out “why’d you put the keys upon the table!” It’s the first and last time I’ve ever seen a family singalong to some of the craziest music to ever get mainstream exposure. –DS

38. The Hold Steady, Separation Sunday
While less accessible than their 2006 breakthrough Boys and Girls in America, this concept album about hard-partying Catholic teenagers in Minneapolis shows Craig Finn and company finding their voice. Finn’s characters – and his love of them – exceed his vocal abilities, but the classic rock riffs keep them grounded, especially on “Your Little Hoodrat Friend” and “How A Resurrection Really Feels.” –DL

37. Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Lift Yr Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven
Does it sound stupid to call this record a post-millennial Dark Side of the Moon? Not sonically — Godspeed’s massive, knotty instrumental-plus-found-sound suite, alternately majestic and brutal, assaultive and tender, sounds nothing like Pink Floyd, or anybody else, for that matter. But it’s a record that is “about” everything — injustice, religion, madness, war, mortality and fleeting joy — and it begs to be listened to alone, in the dark, with headphones. Does that sound stupid? So be it. –JF

36. Rufus Wainwright, Poses
Though I had heard songs from his first album, it wasn’t until a friend of mine played 2001’s Poses for me – prefacing the listening party by telling me it was the most beautiful thing he’d heard in a long time – that I truly discovered Rufus’s genius. The first time I saw Wainwright perform live, I declared that I would be willing to give birth to his hot, gay, scarf- and clog-wearing babies; I still stand by that statement. –KeSt

35. Fiona Apple, Extraordinary Machine
This album has a curious history, in that there are actually two versions: one produced by Jon Brion, which has never been officially released, and the official release, featuring re-recorded and tinkered-with versions of the original songs and a new song, mostly produced by Mike Elizondo and Brian Kehew. The Brion-produced version was originally slated to be released in 2003, but was delayed several times, leading to rumors that Apple’s label, Epic Records, didn’t think the album contained any single-worthy material. Then, the Brion-produced songs started leaking over the Internet, leading to a fan-led campaign demanding the album be released. Eventually, it was, though not in its original incarnation. For the record, I prefer Brion version. –KeSt

34. Bob Dylan, Modern Times
No one knows how Dylan keeps doing it. As he approaches 70 years of age he is fully engaged in one of the most profound eras of his long career, with one classic album following another. Of these latter-day masterpieces, Modern Times may be the greatest of all. –KS

33. Johnny Cash, American IV: The Man Comes Around
Although The Man in Black had successfully rebuilt himself from the ground up in 1996, when producer Rick Rubin stripped him down to his essence for the first American Recordings album, it wasn’t until the fourth in the series – The Man Comes Around – that his triumph extended beyond the critics and into the general record-buying public, thanks to his cover of Trent Reznor’s “Hurt” and its subsequent video. If American IV isn’t the strongest of the albums from Cash’s career renaissance, it’s a sentimental favorite because of how much it feels like a farewell, from the apocalyptic title track to his hoarse takes on “Danny Boy” and the Beatles’ “In My Life.” On Sept. 12, 2003, many a Johnny Cash fan listened to the closing track, “We’ll Meet Again,” and hoped to God it was true, but either way, the man offered up a hell of a last act. –WH

32. Amy Winehouse, Back to Black
The decade’s best soul album was made by…a Jewish woman from London with a passion for the bottle? Amy Winehouse obviously studied her girl groups and jazz vocalists, added in some contemporary lyrical flavor, and came up with a brilliant album that looked forwards and backwards at the same time. Can she keep it together for a follow-up? –MH

31. The Strokes, Is This It?
For once, the pre-release hype surrounding a band paid off. The garage rock revivalist label these NY hipsters got tagged with never seemed apt, but the songs are catchy as hell, the music is both melodically poppy and rhythmically crunchy, the vibe is both modest and hypnotic. It’s a shame they never delivered on all the promise of this debut. –EM

30. Patty Griffin, 1000 Kisses
Rising from the ashes of her label-rejected Silver Bell album, 1000 Kisses found something of a midpoint between the acoustic demos of her debut album and the rock guitars that permeated its follow-up, Flaming Red. This album is Griffin’s most closely observed, and feels like her most personal, which is saying something. Its songs are exquisite
microcosms of a deeply emotional existence, and beg to be heard in the most intimate of settings — with noise-canceling headphones, or in a tiny club where you could hear a pin drop during whatever spaces aren’t filled by her soaring, unforgettable voice. –JC

29. New Pornographers, Twin Cinema
Carl Newman and Dan Bejar take the New Pornographers to dizzying new heights with Twin Cinema, expanding the playbook tenfold to include Zulu chants (”The Bleeding Heart Show”), show-stopping ballads (”These Are the Fables”), and choruses with no words (”The Bones of an Idol”). The titles may read like the ramblings of an insane person (”Jackie, Dressed in Cobras,” “Sing Me Spanish Techno”), but just try to not sing along. –DM

28. Sufjan Stevens, Illinoise
Sufjan has been called the Brian Wilson of his generation. Unbounded creativity is his trademark. One of the great artistic achievements of the decade, but one that remains completely and delightfully accessible. –KS

27. The New Pornographers, The Electric Version
A 13-song, 46-minute breathless rush of perfect power pop by the supergroup led by Carl Newman, the closest we have to a modern-day Brian Wilson. Guitars crunch while songs take unexpected melodic detours while never losing their accessibility. All that and Neko Case, who has never sounded as playful and sexy as on “All For Swinging You Around.” –DL

26. Beck, Guero
The slacker deejay/impresario stepped up his game for this 2005 release, no question. Hard rock and funk grooves accent the record, but it’s the Latin flavor that swamps the music, in a good way, putting Beck’s ability to integrate any musical oeuvre into his mixes and make it sound great. While songs like “Qué Onda Guero,” “E-Pro” and “Girl” might be fan favorites, Guero is loaded with many other instant classics like the driving “Scarecrow,” the reflective “Missing,” and the searing funk-rap “Hell Yes.” And that’s not even getting to “Black Tambourine,” whose groove’s in a booty-shaking galaxy unto itself. –MF

25. Jay-Z, The Black Album
Before hanging up his mic (temporarily, as it turned out), Jay-Z went out with a bang. Boasting an atypical musical continuity for a modern-day hip-hop album (even weirder considering nearly every track was helmed by a different producer), The Black Album was the triumphant victory lap-had Jigga actually retired instead of getting itchy fingers after only two years on the sidelines. The album as a whole was solid, but “99 Problems” was the song that took it over the edge. Jay at his most lyrically precise, backed by Rick Rubin production that harkened back to the early Def Jam days? Amazing. Let’s hope they do a repeat (for a whole album? Please?) before Jay decides to retire again. –MH

24. Raphael Saadiq, The Way I See It
Raphael Saadiq is easily one of the most underappreciated forces in popular music. His contributions as a producer and songwriter in the past decade reveal an undying love for the classic soul and in a way; The Way I See It is the record that he’s been leading up to since his days in Tony! Toni! Toné!. From Motown to Philly to Stax the influence is clear, but this feels as real and relevant as anything in being passed off as R&B these days. –MP

23. Vampire Weekend, Vampire Weekend
This is a story in which four Ivy League graduates form a band and decide to make an album. This wasn’t any old album, though. The music would have a variety of influences, taking from the pop, rock, African and classical genres. After getting fawned over on just about every blog in existence and grabbing the cover of Spin before their debut album was even released, Vampire Weekend made an album that actually lived up to the hype. It was the indie party album of 2008, required listening for summer barbecues and weekend benders. I should’ve figured, considering their Columbia degrees, but Vampire Weekend turned out to be educational as well. Who the hell knew what mansard roofs and oxford commas were before this album? –MH

22. White Stripes, Elephant
The first time I thought Jack and Meg would be more than merely a curiosity was the first time I heard “Ball and Biscuit.” Pure evil, just the way mama used to make it. The rest of this (at the time) surprisingly varied album smacked of a classic waiting to be honored as such. –RS

21. Fountains Of Wayne, Welcome Interstate Managers
The album in which The Jones Beach Boys finally leave behind their suburban teen angst and replace it with…twentysomething angst. They’ve moved up to entry-level jobs and are now trying to cope with the trappings of adulthood – traffic jams, dumb bosses, alcoholism, indifferent waitresses. Adam Schlesinger’s pop hooks and cleverly detailed lyrics are never less than astonishing, with the huge hit “Stacy’s Mom” echoing The Cars and “Hey Julie” borrowing liberally from “Uncle John’s Band.” And “Little Red Light” may be the only song to use a busted cell phone a metaphor for impotence. Welcome Interstate Managers also wins points for inspiring Robbie Fulks’ “Fountains Of Wayne Hotline.” –DL

20. Rilo Kiley, More Adventurous
Here’s what I said about this album in 2004: “More Adventurous has a sound that seems to cross several different genres (including rock, folk, country and New Wave), and lyrics that make each song into a short story. Frontwoman Jenny Lewis jumps to the forefront on this, the band’s third full album, garnering her comparisons to the likes of Neko Case, Dusty Springfield and Debbie Harry, depending on which track you’re listening to. Regardless of how this album compares to the band’s earlier work, More Adventurous has enough that should keep first-time listeners and fans happy, and talking.” I really don’t have much to add to that assessment, other than to say this is probably my favorite Rilo Kiley record. –KeSt

19. Brian Wilson, SMiLE
If you were told at the beginning of the decade that within the next five years Brian Wilson was going to (1) Start touring almost as much as Bob Dylan; (2) Would debut a completed version of pop music’s most (in)famous “lost album”, SMiLE, 37 years after it was first abandoned; and (3) Would record a studio version of the completed piece that would be one of the best albums of the decade, you would likely ask me to pass you whatever it was that I was smoking. Yet, all of those things came true. Thought to be lost to the ether and the remnants of Wilson’s mind-shattered by years of mental breakdown and drugs-Wilson worked over the original recording tapes with Wondermints leader (and musical director of Wilson’s own band) Darian Sahanaja. Those brainstorming sessions sparked both Wilson’s remembrance of original plans for theme and fragment sequencing (including some that seem obvious now but escaped the ears of even the most avid Beach Boys bootlegger), and his creation of new compositions and arrangements to finally make SMiLE a whole, finished piece. The final product is a breathtaking, cohesive work that fully integrates, both sonically and lyrically (via Van Dyke Parks’ Lewis Carroll-esque lyrics) a narrative of American, generational, and elemental development, and stands as a unique forward-looking piece of pop music, even four decades after its initial conception. –MB

18. Aimee Mann, Bachelor No. 2, or the Last Remains of the Dodo
First, I need to tell you that this was my pick for best album of the decade. I could probably sing the entire thing for you, unaccompanied (but, trust me: you don’t want me to). Mann’s third solo album, which shares tracks that appeared on the soundtrack to Paul Thomas Anderson’s 1999 film, Magnolia, has a fascinating history. Originally slated to be released through Interscope, the record label decided that the album wasn’t commercially viable. So, Mann decided to buy back the rights for the album and started selling it online, making it one of the first albums to achieve success through online-only sales. Eventually, Mann released the album via traditional retail channels through her own label, SuperEgo Records (fun fact: I was a street team coordinator for the label for a while). An incredible roster of musicians backs Aimee on the album, including her husband, Michael Penn, Jon Brion, Juliana Hatfield, Grant Lee Phillips, Buddy Judge and Jen Trynin. To support the record, she and Penn — whose fourth solo album, MP4: Days Since a Lost Time Accident, was released earlier that year — created a unique co-headlining concert concept called Acoustic Vaudeville. The shows, which started at Los Angeles’s Largo nightclub and eventually became a national tour, mixed music and stand-up comedy and featured comedians such as Patton Oswalt, David Cross and Janeane Garofalo. –KeSt

17. Jon Brion, Meaningless
Arguably the least heard album within our list, it’s obvious from its placing that those who have heard it consider it to be of the highest caliber. Brion may be best known for his accomplishments as a composer of film scores (Magnolia, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind), but in the 1990s, he was a pop musician with a ridiculously solid resume, briefly serving within the ranks of ‘Til Tuesday before popping up on Jellyfish’s Spilt Milk, then moving over to form The Grays with Jason Falkner, Buddy Judge, and Dan McCarroll. After earning plaudits for his production work, Brion took the plunge in 1997 and recorded a solo album for Lava/Atlantic. They opted not to release it, and in turn, he opted to put it out himself. Mind you, that didn’t happen ‘til 2001, but the fact that Brion released it on a label called Straight To Cut-Out is almost as hilarious as the realization that a major label shrugged off the opportunity to release what is, even after a singular listen, clearly one of the best albums of either decade. Brion’s sense of humor is evident from the very beginning, kicking things off with a song called “Gotta Start Somewhere,” but just because he’s got a wit about him doesn’t mean he can’t get thoroughly melancholy at times, as he does in “Ruin My Day,” with his description of how even a fleeting memory of an ex can completely fuck up your mood. Although his co-writes produce some of the record’s highlights (“I Believe She’s Lying” with Aimee Mann, “Walking through Walls” with Grant Lee Phillips), there’s little question that this is Jon Brion’s album through and through. If you have yet to hear Meaningless, then you must fix the problem immediately. It is a pop music masterpiece. –WH

16. Jay-Z, The Blueprint
Previous albums sold more, but 2001’s The Blueprint cemented Jay-Z’s legacy as one of the best rappers (if not *the* best) of his generation. It was also the first time we really heard the mature Jay-Z as the rapper waxed nostalgic on the title track and lamented a relationship gone bad on “Song Cry”. The typical brag and girls tracks were there as well, only with a clever twist (”Girls Girls Girls”) and soulful production by the likes of then upstarts Kanye West and Just Blaze. That all would be enough to make the first and best Blueprint a great album, but add in the venomous “Takeover” (in which he eviscerates Nas and Mobb Deep) and the seething “Renegade” (featuring an on-fire Eminem in the album’s only credited guest spot), and you end up with a true hip-hop classic. –MH

15. Coldplay, A Rush of Blood to the Head
What was it that elevated Coldplay above its vaguely arty, vaguely space-y UK contemporaries and into the pop stratosphere? (It can’t just be Gwyneth Paltrow…) Whatever it was, it began here, with an album that achieves a consistently anthemic tone yet occasionally offers up a window (if an opaque one) into Chris Martin’s soul. The pounding rhythm of “Politik” drew us in, then the stirring piano line of “Clocks” hooked us completely. This was music that begged the masses to feel things more deeply, and provided a sonic environment in which they could do so.

14. Bob Dylan, Love and Theft
You can’t leave out the quotations: Both the title and the songs are taken from other sources. The album gets its name from a 1993 book on the history of minstrel shows. Some of the lyrics come from locations as disparate as Lewis Carroll, traditional Appalachian folk ballads, and the english translation of a work by Junichi Saga. The music finds its roots in Chicago blues, Eastern folk, Bayou rhythms, and even Texas big-band jump-swing. In a way, Dylan states with Love and Theft that nothing is original; it is only the degrees by which we “steal” what we love from the past to make our new art that defines our originality. The result is a thick and rich exploration of what “American Music” really meant in the 20th century, and continues to be at the start of the 21st. There are two real keys to the success of this album: the first, ironically, is that Dylan’s voice is finally shot. Somewhere around the turn of the decade, during some leg of his famed “Never Ending Tour,” his voice finally gave out, reduced to a throat-shredding croak. For the music he was producing at this part of his career, though, it was perfect. He finally sounded like the old, weary bluesman he’d been wanting to be since his early 20s. The second is that he’s finally perfected his lyrical transformation from postmodern poet to creator of more “traditional” works, like the old blues songs, folk tunes, and anonymous ballads he sang on his two solo acoustic covers albums in the mid ’90s. On Love and Theft, this one-two punch is expressed best in the vicious “Lonesome Day Blues,” the comical “Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee,” the album’s soul-darkening closer “Sugar Baby,” and especially “Mississippi,” which Dylan rescued from the scrapheap of the Time Out of Mind sessions (and a middling, uptempo cover by Sheryl Crow), and turned into one of his greatest songs. Period. –MB

13. Various Artists, O Brother, Where Art Thou? Soundtrack
It shouldn’t have worked. Nobody thought there was any place for world-of-mouth success anymore; nobody thought that acoustic Americana could cross over to AOR; nobody thought that an increasingly image-obsessed public would embrace plain Janes like Dan Tyminski or the Whites, let alone septuagenarian bluegrass legend Ralph Stanley. The success of O Brother, Where Art Thou? — both the film and the album — is one of those vanishing cases of the audience knowing what they like better than the marketing machine knows how to sell it to them.

And if O Brother had the unfortunate side-effect of turning millions of hipster dirtbags into instant experts on old-timey music, well, that’s no fault of its own. It’s a preposterously lovable record, offering to frazzled urbanites a fantasy front-porch jam session for a lazy Sunday, where your favorite aunts harmonize on “I’ll Fly Away,” except that your favorite aunts are Alison Krauss and Gillian Welch; the kids, God bless them, sing one they learned in Sunday school, and then Uncle Dan just about knocks the hat off the house when he busts out his flat-top. And as the afternoon lags and all the young folks start getting tired, Pop-Pop comes out with an ancient ballad, out of nowhere; who knew the old man had it in him? Uncle John’s fiddle is out of its case (he’s not your real uncle, you suspect, but that’s what everyone’s always called him), and he’s playing something slow and unearthly; then you wind on into the twilight with a set of singalongs, always finding your way back to the old hymns, and the smells of cornbread and ham from the house.

It’s a seductive vision of traditional rural life, minus all the poverty, racism, violoence and despair. A fantasy. But isn’t that in the job description for any filmmaker? –JF

12. Shelby Lynne, I Am Shelby Lynne
Artists and athletes often respond to the notion that they’re making a comeback by saying defiantly, “I never left.” In Lynne’s case, the more appropriate retort would be, “I was never quite here.” After more than a decade of frittering away her gorgeous, whiskey-soaked pipes on bland material that flitted from country to pop and back again, she vanished for a spell in the late ’90s – then emerged at the turn of the century as a soulful, mature artist who could finally proclaim I Am Shelby Lynne. Co-writing most of the album with Sheryl Crow’s producer, Bill Bottrell, Lynne finally found her voice in the sweet spot between Nashville and Memphis and Muscle Shoals. And she was rewarded for it, ridiculously, with a Best New Artist Grammy. “Thirteen years and six albums to get here,” she laughed in her acceptance speech, but in retrospect there was nothing wrong with her peers celebrating the fact that she had finally arrived. –JC

11. Jayhawks, Rainy Day Music
Tears welled up the first time I heard “Tailspin,” as though I were seeing an old, beloved friend again after I’d given him up for dead. He looked thinner, having shed his preoccupations with psychedelia and studio wankery for the sake of studio wankery. His voice was still true, however, and he had a lot to say, as well as a newly re-energized way of saying it. –RS

10. Eminem, The Marshall Mathers LP
A true hip-hop masterpiece and one of the best rap records ever made, this is almost certainly a point that Eminem will never get back to. The hype over Eminem coming into this record was immense following the overwhelming and shocking success of the Slim Shady LP and he certainly didn’t disappoint. Eminem’s alter ego comes out in places like “The Real Slim Shady” but The Marshall Mathers LP is really the most serious of his five albums.

Eminem hadn’t yet gone overboard on the silly alternate voices he spews out these days and his “I’m Baaaaacccck and I hate you Kim, though I love my little Hailey even though my mom’s a drugged out whore” message hadn’t gotten stale yet. Combine that with the best beats that F.B.T ever created and the best ones Dr. Dre had given up since his early days with Snoop Doggy Dogg and that makes this album an end to end listen. And let’s not forget “Stan” with its almost spoken delivery and unique story of a crazy fan writing notes to his idol, which will go down as one of the greatest hip-hop songs of all time. –DS

9. The Flaming Lips, Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots
Sentimental, melodic, cohesive and hook-laden are all apt descriptions of The Flaming Lips’ breakout hit album. Those who were suddenly turned around by their previous release, The Soft Bulletin (and its core devotion to pure pop music), were rewarded by some of the band’s best compositions: “Fight Test,” the title track, and the psyche-prog mini epic “Do You Realize??” The subjects range mostly toward the sci-fi side, exploring topics like robot feelings, interstellar trips and facing the dreaded moment when taking a stand and fighting your battle is the only course of action. The band hasn’t sounded quite this exuberant and full of positive energy since. –DWD

8. Radiohead, In Rainbows
In addition to the music business footnote-worthy stunt of initially releasing this album online with a digital “tip jar” pay-what-you-want scheme, In Rainbows was also Radiohead’s strongest collection of actual songs since 2000’s Kid A. Whether that’s because the innovative way they decided to release the album offset the need to sonically reinvent themselves yet again (chicken and egg that all you want), or because Thom Yorke was simultaneously launching his solo career, such instant classics as “15 Steps,” “Faust Arp,” “House of Cards” and “Bodysnatchers” stand with the best of Radiohead’s entire canon. In fact, In Rainbows could be called the band’s first truly successful blending of abstruse sounds and simple songs – without all the attendant controversy of Kid A’s polarizing nature. –EM

7. Bruce Springsteen, The Rising
The most important statement of the decade from a musical artist, The Rising is right up there with George Bush’s first pitch at Yankee Stadium, and David Letterman’s return to television following 9-11 in terms of bringing solace to people who were down on their knees, and living in stunned grief. Everyone was affected by the tragedy, and it influenced the work of every artist in some way, but only Bruce managed to commit the feelings of a nation to a recording. There is a lot of myth-making when it comes to Bruce Springsteen. The Rising is the album that cemented his legacy. –KS

6. Arcade Fire, Funeral
This band’s live show is a musical tent revival meeting, with the attendees both upon and in front of the stage awash in the joy and power of music. While it’s hard to capture that vibe on record, the ambitious Funeral comes awfully close. Thematically, it’s an emotional tour de force, encompassing love and loss, life and death, family and community. Sonically, it’s an orchestrated pop masterpiece that seamlessly blends a mature indie art-rock sensibility with lush melodies, anthemic choruses and dense instrumentation. Strings, drums, guitars, accordion – and it all feels of a piece. Stylistically, it’s all over the map, but in a pleasant, effortless way that keeps you interested and, at times, mesmerized. It’s all pretty remarkable for an almost-unknown band’s debut album on a small-ish independent record label. –EM

5. Radiohead, Kid A
The first Radiohead album to debut at No. 1 in the United States, Kid A nevertheless polarized fans and critics alike. And with good reason – Kid A is as much a leap forward from OK Computer as that album was from “Creep” and the band’s first two records. Released at the beginning of a new millenium, Kid A is the sound of a rock band leaving its earthly grounding and pressures behind, busting out of whatever strictures placed on them (by their fans, the media or even themselves) and forging a new identity that was as much about sound as it was about songs. Dispensing with the usual blase rock instrumentation, and layering on such diverse sonic textures as Ondes Martenot, strings, horns and a electronica-inspired beats, Radiohead created something truly new and unique for rock music at the time (mainstream or alternative), and got pagged by many music journalists for being difficult, while simultaneously winning a Grammy award, plenty of critical praise, and a huge amount of new fans. Thom Yorke & Co. also began experimenting with new marketing techniques around the release of Kid A, tapping into the power of the Internet, and viral video, not to mention media obfuscation, fanboy baiting, and the fact that the album’s Dada-esque lyrics and hypnagogic themes lend themselves to any number of interpretations, all executed with aplomb and, well, fun! In a somber way, of course…after all, it’s still Radiohead. –EM

4. Beck, Sea Change
After proclaiming himself a loser and touting the possibilities of two turntables and a microphone, Beck Hansen was at a crossroad. Mutations and Midnite Vultures both showed different sides of the performer but there, at every turn, was the hip, flip and slightly self-conscious persona he constructed in the Mellow Gold days, whether he liked it or not. Leave it to the venerable ‘break-up album’ genre to allow him to get real. Eschewing his standard wordplay, the lyrics are strikingly no-nonsense as on “Guess I’m Doing Fine” and the musical bed leans toward a chilly, moody vibe, found on the standout “Round The Bend.” –DWD

3. Robert Plant and Alison Krauss, Raising Sand
More than a few eyebrows raised when this collaboration was announced. Robert Plant, the aging rocker pairing up with beloved bluegrass singer, Alison Krauss? It sounded like a disaster in the making. While it looked odd on paper, the two music stars blended their voices beautifully to create an album that is loose and fun, yet tinged with sadness. Backed by producer T-Bone Burnett and a small group of top notch musicians, Plant’s bluesy voice harmonized perfectly with Krauss’ soft country twang on songs like “Killing the Blues,” “Rich Woman” and the single, “Gone Gone Gone (Done Moved On).” They turned the Everly Brothers rockabilly hit “Stick With Me Baby” into a hushed pledge of devotion, and resurrected one of Plant’s songs he wrote with Jimmy Page, “Please Read the Letter,” saving it from the classic rock sludge of its original incarnation and making it a new, more desperate recording. Both Plant and Krauss took a risk recording this album, stepping out of their comfort zones both in music styles and the way they used their famous voices. The risk paid off ten fold when Raising Sand went on to win mulitple Grammys, including Album of the Year. –SM

2. Wilco, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot
The backstory alone would be enough to rationalize Yankee Hotel Foxtrot’s placement on this list: alt-country posterkids take great pains (personal and personnel related, all starkly captured in Sam Jones’ film, I Am Trying to Break Your Heart) to create their masterpiece, continuing their genius blowing up of the mold of the genre that birthed ‘em, and submit the finished product to their record label. Their record label, Reprise, is caught up in its own problems, and ultimately dismisses both the album and the band. Wilco leader Jeff Tweedy, not wanting a change in record labels to back-burner the project altogether, begin streaming the album in its entirety on their website. It’s an unqualified success, attested by the numbers racked up on the following tour. Sure enough, a record label bidding war ensues, and Wilco ends up signing with Nonesuch who, like Reprise, is a subsidiary of AOL Time Warner (so yeah, the parent company paid for the album twice). The album has since gone gold and garnered enough critical plaudits and awards to justify its surreal journey. All of which would add up to absolutely nothing if the music didn’t deliver, which it does, in spades. Breathily intimate in spots, violently ethereal in others, YHF dispenses with formula altogether, and fuses its mild Americana charms with blistering rock, multi-instrumental psychedelia, and lyrics that are equal parts stream-of-consciousness and late-night confessional. This is the album that makes Wilco fans out of newbies. –EM

1. Green Day, American Idiot
It was brash and petulant, disaffected and mournful, media-addled and self-contradicting and hilarious. It flailed at its targets and sometimes missed completely, it didn’t learn from history and was therefore doomed to repeat it…and, most of all, it was everywhere. In other words, American Idiot was the perfect album for the Bush era, and by practically any standard it was the most memorable rock album of the decade. Having carried punk’s tattered flag into the mainstream, Billie Joe Armstrong and his cohorts revived the concept album on a grand scale, applying their caustic wit and patented guitar attack to the loose-knit story of a “Jesus of Suburbia” torn between media-driven alienation and his hunger for human connection. Along the way, the band offered a sweeping critique of our post-9/11 culture’s retrenchment into political and moral fundamentalism. So what if much of American Idiot makes little thematic sense, or if much of the music sounds vaguely – and sometimes obviously – familiar? The fact that Green Day are neither the most brilliant of philosophers nor the most ingenious of composers only made the album more charming, more immediate, and ultimately essential to understanding the dark heart of 21st-century America. –JC

Of course, from a certain very cynical point of view, the same thing could have been said about the Top 40 in recent decades — and in fact, we don’t bring up radio’s loss of gatekeeper status as an indictment of where music is now, but instead as a way of prefacing a very eclectic list that may not contain more than a handful of songs you’ve actually heard. And if you’ve spent any amount of time here, you know that isn’t because we’re a particularly hip group of writers; it’s simply a reflection of how many options there are for finding music now, how many subgenres there are, and perhaps above all, how rigidly many listeners stick with what they know.

So here’s hoping you find at least a few songs you’ve never heard before in this list of the 100 (okay, 103 — we couldn’t resist adding a few more) songs we loved the most over the last ten years. We’re all rabid music collectors now, and no one’s library is ever big enough — and what’s better for a real fan than the thrill of discovering something great? Happy listening!

103. The Fratellis, “Chelsea Dagger“
Armed with the best drunken barroom chorus since “Tubthumping,” the Fratellis apply the foolproof trick of using nonsense words for your biggest hook, thereby making your song instantly accessible. –David Medsker

102. Tegan and Sara, “You Wouldn’t Like Me“
After two well-received indie records, twin sister pop-punk singer/songwriters Tegan and Sara Quin were due for a breakout. With the help of some well-placed songs in an up-and-coming medical drama called Grey’s Anatomy, and some smart Internet marketing, the Canadians did just that with their 2004 album, So Jealous. For new listeners, there was no better introduction to the introspective lyrics and fist-pumping/dance-around-the-room music of Tegan and Sara than the leadoff track, “You Wouldn’t Like Me.” It begins with a guitar and the sisters singing their trademark harmony. The song slowly builds as other musicians join in, until it’s a fury of guitars, drums and heartache. Pop perfection. –Scott Malchus

101. Prototypes, “Who’s Gonna Sing?”
AKA “that song from the iPod commercial.” In a decade of terrific Gallopop, this was the worldbeater. That fuzz bass, that drumline — lumbering and yet nimble, like a dancing bear — the vocal interplay, the utter earworm insistence of it all. And it’s so playful, so giddy, so inviting, defying you to not join in the dance. Who’s gonna sing? Anybody who listens past the first chorus, that’s who. –Jack Feerick

100. Arcade Fire, “Neighborhood #3 (Power Out)”
The rise of Arcade Fire from Montreal music collective to one of the most influential bands in the world is one of the greatest music stories of the decade. This track from their 2004 debut, Funeral, sets the story of the great ice storm of 1998 against the band’s typically offbeat instrumentation. The third single from the album finds Arcade Fire in their full anthemic glory. –Ken Shane

99. Crooked Fingers, “New Drink for the Old Drunk”
Archers of Loaf’s Eric Bachmann goes solo here as Crooked Fingers, but still continues his normal lyrical themes of darkness and despair. The meld of the banjo and strings here works beautifully, and despite the initial feeling that you’re listening to a man in some deep ditch left for dead, you can also picture a group of really good friends in a bar pumping their pint-filled fists in the air along with the chorus. –Dave Steed

98. Suzanne Vega, “Pornographer’s Dream“
From her woefully ignored Beauty And Crime album, this song asks what would be the dream of a dirty mind, and finds something beautiful and untouched. Don’t let the title throw you: this is a keeper of a track. –Dw. Dunphy

97. Scissor Sisters, “Laura“
Few songs represent their band as completely as “Laura” does the Scissor Sisters. All of the band’s hallmark traits (save Jake Shears’ falsetto) are on magnificent display here, from the Daft Punk-ish drum track to the theatrical musical tone and the playful, boys-only lyrical approach. As perfect an opening number as they come. –DM

96. Johnny Boy, “You Are the Generation that Bought More Shoes and You get What You Deserve”
Bastard babies of Phil Spector and Joe Meek, this UK guy-gal duo alchemize cheapness into mystique, erecting a Wall of Sound that’s more like a fogbank, from which emerge endlessly intriguing glimpses. Even if Johnny Boy hadn’t followed up “You Are the Generation” with a string of singles nearly as good, this giddy swirl of lo-fi teen-pop grandeur would still sound like the achievement of a lifetime. –JF

95. Fiona Apple, “Not About Love“
The lead single from Fiona’s much-anticipated third album, 2005’s Extraordinary Machine, “Not About Love” is one of the best breakup songs ever written. There are two subtly different versions of the song, one from the unreleased Jon Brion-produced album and one from the official release. I don’t have a preference between the two – they’re both incredible. –Kelly Stitzel

94. Eddie Vedder, “Hard Sun“
Inspired by Sean Penn’s powerful film, Into the Wild, Eddie Vedder covered an obscure 1989 song by the group Indio. Vedder does the original justice while making it his own. Singing with the sort of passion and emotion sometimes missing from his blistering work with Pearl Jam, Vedder recorded a song that stands alone from the movie, one that is elegiac and folksy, and one that will be remembered for years to come. –SM

93. Bob Dylan – “Mississippi”
Dylan rescued this masterpiece from the scrapheap of his 1997 comeback Time Out of Mind. A faster, somewhat pathetic version by Sheryl Crow (on 1998’s The Globe Sessions) might have been the only official recording of this song if not for Dylan’s desire to record it a fourth time. The result (released on 2001’s Love and Theft) wasn’t just his strongest song of the decade, it was one of his strongest songs overall. A Mojo poll of musicians and music critics a couple of years back ranked “Mississippi” as Dylan’s 10th best song EVER. Listening to it, it’s not hard to hear what they did: the combination of some of his most quotable lines in years, and the scraggly, shot vocals that perfectly match the lyrics are a thing of beauty. Try not to get chills the first time you hear him sing the internal bridge in the second verse:

“Some people will offer you their hand and some won’t
Last night I knew you, tonight I don’t
I need something strong to distract my mind
I’m gonna look at you ’til my eyes go blind” –Matthew Bolin

92. Alicia Keys, “You Don’t Know My Name”
In a decade filled with great moments, this might actually be Kanye West’s greatest — a tribute to the smooth, sensual soul of the 1970s, featuring the longing vocals of Alicia Keys and even a classic telephone interlude. –Mike Heyliger

91. Aimee Mann, “Deathly“
Technically, this song was first released in 1999 on the soundtrack to the Paul Thomas Anderson film, Magnolia. In fact, the track’s opening lyrics appear as dialogue spoken by Melora Walters’s character in the film. But the song, which I interpret as being about trying to keep someone from loving you because you know you’re bad for them, also appears on Mann’s 2000 album, Bachelor No. 2, so it gets a pass on this list. –KeSt

90. U2, “Stuck in a Moment You Can’t Get Out Of“
It just seems right that at the recent Rock and Roll Hall of Fame 25th Anniversary concerts, that Mick Jagger joined U2 on stage for this song. Mick, who at his best was perhaps the greatest white interpreter of American black music ever, chose the Irish band’s most successful attempt at recreating American Soul and R&B. While 1988’s Rattle & Hum was U2’s fervent (and at times ridiculous) attempt to showcase their connection to — and immersion in — American musical culture, they’ve never pulled it off in their music better than this. –MB

89. Wilco, “Impossible Germany”
The Sky Blue Sky album found Wilco getting reacquainted with songs, especially on this spiritual cousin to Steely Dan, complete with an insane Nels Cline solo to close the track out. –DWD

88. Rilo Kiley, “Portions for Foxes“
An ode to destructive, yet irresistible, romantic relationships “Portions for Foxes” was the lead single from indie darlings Rilo Kiley’s third full-length album, 2004’s More Adventurous. With lyrics that are a blend of obvious and obscure, and a more polished sound than the band’s previous singles, “Portions for Foxes” is, in my opinion, one of the best songs they’ve ever recorded. And when Jenny Lewis growls, “C’MERE!” you know you want to. –KeSt

87. Maria McKee, “No Other Way To Love You”
Love is patient; love is kind. Love dares great things, runs any risk. Love is stronger than darkness, stronger than death. Do you remember? Do you remember this feeling? Love sacrifices everything for love, heroic. Love crawls through fire and is not burned. Love stands firm in a hurricane of knives, and is not cut. Do you remember? Then listen. Listen, and you will. –JF

86. John Mayer, “Say”
I’m sort of in a grey area with John Mayer. I certainly don’t love him like so many do, but I also don’t think he’s a total douchenozzle, and “Say” helped push him further from doucheland than he’d ever been. It’s a perfect example that music doesn’t always have to be complex to be great. It’s just a gorgeous and very simple bittersweet ballad. –DS

85. Coldplay, “Strawberry Swing“
Coldplay waited a year until they got the video complete before releasing “Strawberry Swing” as a single. With its marching beat, chiming guitars and Chris Martin’s retrained singing, this is one of the most moving numbers in their repertoire. It will always bring a smile to your face, tears to your eyes, and fill you with hope. The wait was worth it. –SM

84. New Pornographers, “These Are the Fables“
Carl Newman sets aside his tales of Spanish techno in order to give Neko Case a song that’s pitch-perfect for both her honey-dipped voice and the Broadway stage. Don’t be surprised if one day this song becomes the centerpiece for the next generation’s “Godspell.” –DM

83. Queens of the Stone Age, “No One Knows”

82. Mariah Carey, “We Belong Together“
By 2005 she had almost completely abandoned her girl-next-door tunefulness in favor of hip-hop whoredom, but on “We Belong Together” she (and collaborator Jermaine Dupri) found a midway point between old-school R&B and the contemporary flava she’s been pursuing since she got the implants her first marriage ended. Momentarily recovering her faculties, she forsook the melisma and the high-pitched squeaks (for once) in favor of a rapid-fire, Beyonce-esque staccato vocal – and, shockingly, created perhaps the finest single of her career. –Jon Cummings

81. The Whip, “Frustration“
For a Manchester band to so shamelessly cop its sound from New Order is a function of audacity. To capture the churning, epic melancholy that made New Order resonate in the first place is something akin to miraculous. –JF

80. Patty Griffin, “Heavenly Day“
Griffin has had a small but loyal following for over a decade. While her fans can tell you that her music is lovely and smartly written, mainstream America has always been oblivious. Lucky for Griffin and her fans, ATO records, her label, lets her continue to make wonderful albums like Children Running Through, the CD from which “Heavenly Day” comes from. This uplifting ballad slowly builds, with Griffin’s beautiful, crackling voice over guitar and strings, until it feels like a choir should be singing with her. Savvy marketing at ATO placed “Heavenly Day” on various television series, giving Griffin the most exposure she’s had in her career. As far as I’m concerned, if that’s what it takes for her to keep recoding beautiful songs like this one, then plaster her music everywhere. –SM

79. Kaiser Chiefs, “Never Miss a Beat“
It sports one of the most economical verses ever written, and is bouncier than a kangaroo on a pogo stick. The Kaiser Chiefs have always had a penchant for quirky, upbeat pop, but they outdo themselves with “Never Miss a Beat.” Its “Warriors”-style video is a classic, too. –DM

78. Gov’t Mule, “Banks of the Deep End“
When they throw the first shovel of muddy ground on my coffin (for it will rain on the day of my funeral, like in the movies, or a blues song), I hereby request that my best friends at least have this song playing in their heads, if a boom box or iPod isn’t handy. –RS

77. Aimee Mann, “Calling It Quits”
This is my favorite track from Aimee’s brilliant album, Bachelor No. 2. I interpret it to be about how lovers can sometimes be like con-artists constantly trying to put one over on each other, then cutting and running before getting hurt. Interestingly enough, the song was placed on the soundtrack album for the hit HBO series Sex and the City (though I couldn’t tell you on which episode it was featured), and when listened to in that context, it could easily be considered as the theme song for the show’s lead couple, Big and Carrie. –KeSt

76. White Stripes, “My Doorbell“
Jack & Meg spent so much time prior to this song rocking out, you had to do a spit-take the first time you heard this slice of bubblegum come through the airwaves. Speed the vocals up and you might think you’re listening to the best song The Osmonds or The Jackson Five never released. –MH

75. System of a Down, “Aerials“
Slacker Zen, draped in intricate layers of instrument and voice. At once universal and defiant of interpretation, it touches and haunts you, and you can never quite seem to find the end of its depth. It is their masterpiece, and the finest song of the last ten years (at least on my list). –-RS

74. Muse, “Knights of Cydonia“
One part spaghetti western rave-up, one part “Bohemian Rhapsody” rock-out (with Wayne’s World-style headbanging finale to boot, British prog-rockers Muse triumphantly jump out of Radiohead’s shadow with this supercharged (if slightly paranoid) battle cry. –DM

73. Dixie Chicks, “Truth No. 2“
History will record “Not Ready to Make Nice” (#14 above) as the Dixie Chicks’ official response to the war-protest uproar that had decimated their country-music audience, but back in 2003 this song – a Patty Griffin gem, originally meant for her unreleased Silver Bell album – served the Chicks’ still-loyal fans as a more immediate (if unplanned) statement of rebellion. “You don’t like the sound of the truth coming from my mouth,” Natalie Maines spat at her detractors during the band’s gigs that year, as protest-movement footage played on the video screens – and as, far away, events began to unfold that would leave most Americans feeling just as ashamed of their president as Natalie was.

72. Slayer, “Payback”
The angriest song I’ve ever listened to off the angriest record I’ve ever listed to (2001’s God Hates Us All), “Payback” makes me feel better about myself. Every time I leave work angry or something sucks I put this on and I realize that nothing going on in my life could ever make me this pissed off and then I’m good again. “For my own piece of mind I’m going to/tear your fucking eyes out/rip your fucking flesh off/beat you till you’re just a fucking lifeless carcass/fuck you and your progress/watch me fucking regress/you were meant to take the fall, now you’re nothing/payback’s a bitch motherfucker.” That’s some shit right there. You have no idea how much it pleases me that this made the final cut. –DS

71. Outkast, “So Fresh So Clean”
Half of Stankonia could have made this list, that’s how good it was. This was the third single from the album but is no less memorable than “B.O.B.” or “Ms. Jackson.” In fact, my 1-year-old son is learning hip-hop from this song. Every time he gets a bath, we sing “ain’t nobody dope as me/I’m just so fresh, so clean (so fresh and so clean clean).” I’m not sure Outkast knows they created bathtime songs. –DS

70. Alexi Murdoch, “Orange Sky“
A wonderful hallucination set to music. Ethereality personified. –RS

69. Robin Thicke, “Lost Without U”
This is as good as it’s going to get for Alan Thicke’s son. For a good 15 minutes in ’06-’07, Thicke was the go-to guy in hip-hop if you needed a sultry chorus, mainly due to his work with Lil’ Wayne. Unsure of himself when success wasn’t coming for him, he wrote this song detailing what he wants to hear from his lady to make him feel good again. If you’re making a “get in her pants” mix-tape, this song is now a must add. Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On,” Ginuwine’s “Pony” and “Lost Without U.” –DS

68. The Hives, “Hate to Say I Told You So“
Sweden has long been known for pop music, but rock and roll, not so much. That all changed when brash garage rockers The Hives arrived on these shores with this song in 2002. If Ray Davies had never left the garage, this is the kind of music he’d be making, and we’d all be better for it. –KS

67. Train, “Drops of Jupiter“
It had been a long while since a mainstream rock single this melodic had broken through the Limp Bizkit/Linkin Park cacophony and achieved such universal impact. “Drops of Jupiter” overextended its metaphor by about a verse and a bridge, and some of the lyrics are just cringe-inducing – what with the Tae-bo and the soy latte, the “deep-fried chicken” and the “freeze-dried romance.” But the choruses are unforgettable, and the “na-na”s perhaps the most resonant since “Hey Jude.” –JC

66. Usher, “Yeah!“
For a while there, it looked like Usher could be a Michael Jackson-like figure for today’s mall kids and would-be club-hoppers. While it’s a little early to say he blew his chance, he has yet to come up with another single as transcendent as this jam. –Rob Smith

65. Beyonce, “Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)”
The most omnipresent single of the past 12 months has roots in double dutch (as well as a track called “Get Me Bodied” from Beyonce’s previous album), but “Single Ladies” transcended its origins to become a cultural phenome – YO! I’ma let you finish…but I thought I told you, Beyonce had one of the best videos in – shut the fuck up, Kanye. –JC

64. Paul McCartney, “Ever Present Past“
Let’s face it, Sir Paul doesn’t have to release new music anymore. Yet he’s an artist and when something as wonderful as “Ever Present Past” is buzzing around in your head it has to be laid down on tape… or computers. This upbeat song that looks back on life has all of the elements of a great Paul McCartney hit single: Joyful exuberance, a catchy melody, just a touch of melancholy, and the perfect bridge. It also has that key ingredient of any great pop song: at under 3:00, it keeps you wishing the song was longer, so you go back and listen to it again… and again…. and again…. –SM

63. Lifehouse, “Hanging By A Moment“
Like Creed and Mr. Mister before them, Lifehouse likely made a large number of people pause somewhere during the fourth or fifth time they heard this song and exclaim “Wait a minute….am I listening to CHRISTIAN ROCK?!” And yes, Lifehouse did start out a a Christian group, but this crossover works so well because of two main things: Unlike songs by Creed, Nickelback, or other “defining” rock groups of this decade, the more cock-rock tendencies of the song are balanced by its tunefulness (separate vocal and musical hooks in the verse, chorus and bridge) and the musical subtleties (the use of cello in the bass effects; the mellotron and organ in the bridge) to give added depth to the arrangement. Not much else they’ve had to offer since has been that worthwhile, but this track holds up as a well-crafted earworm. –MB

62. OK Go, “Here It Goes Again”
Lost in the audacity – and hype – of the YouTube-classic treadmill clip was the fact that “Here It Goes Again” is an ace power-pop track. It cribbed a bit from the Jags and a bit – fittingly — from the old MTV theme music, and breathed new chart life into a too-often overlooked genre. And did you hear about their video?… –JC

61. Wilco, “Heavy Metal Drummer“
From the career-making album Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, Jeff Tweedy reflects on his youthful days watching heavy metal bands in the summer, and the loss of innocence in the intervening years. Wonderful contributions from the late Jay Bennett take this tale of a childhood idyll and make it so much more. –KS

60. Modest Mouse, “Float On“
The Good News For People Who Love Bad News was this 2004 single from the quirky Seattle band. Isaac Brock leads his bands through this uncharacteristically upbeat meditation on the joys of being above it all. –KS

59. System of a Down, “B.Y.O.B.“
It was 2005. I’d had it with George Bush; you’d had it with George Bush; System of a Down had had it with George Bush. System of a Down recorded “B.Y.O.B.”—a disorienting blast of punk irreverence, brutal truth, and howling anger—as a response to George Bush. System of a Down were cooler than you or I will ever be. -–RS

58. Maroon 5, “Makes Me Wonder“
“Makes Me Wonder” proved that Adam Levine wasn’t all about good cheekbones and smoldering stares — the man could write a mean pop song, too. Taking musical cues from both Prince and early Eighties pop radio (this song’s instrumental sounds like it could be Hall & Oates or Kool & the Gang — and those are both compliments!), this song had some serious soulful swagger as well as the mild shock value of hearing the “F” bomb used in the chorus of a pop hit. Consider it the 21st century version of –MH

57. John Mayer, “Clarity”
Previously known for running through the halls of his high school and comparing bodies to theme-park rides, John Mayer hit paydirt with this pensive, jazz-influenced tune (featuring instrumentation from trumpeter Roy Hargrove and Roots drummer ?uestlove). Mayer has called “Clarity” “a song written about the first few seconds after waking up”, and its’ free-associative nature-the song has no chorus-gives it that vibe. –MH

56. N.E.R.D., “Lapdance”
Face it, Pharrell Williams and Chad Hugo aka the Neptunes are weird cats. At points they have some of the most innovative hip-hop beats around and at other times, they are a bit too eclectic for their own good. However, when they combined with Shay Haley to form their rock group N.E.R.D. (No one Ever Really Dies) and released their debut In Search Of… in 2001 it all came together in killer fashion. “Lapdance” is the perfect headbanging blend of rap and rock riffage. –DS

55. Spoon, “Everything Hits At Once”
It would be a couple albums later before Spoon would get the indie rock love they deserved, but the Girls Can Tell album, and this song as its opener, pretty much confirmed Britt Daniel and company were well on their way. –Dw. Dunphy

54. U2, “Vertigo“
Lest you thought that U2 had been consumed by synthesized textures, “Vertigo” was the song that proved that they could still rock like the Dublin punks they once were. Shredding guitars, pounding drums, and thudding bass abound, from the multi-language count off to last fuzz-laden chord. All of this can be yours indeed. –KS

53. Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros, “Coma Girl“
An old-fashioned 1950s rumble, filtered through shards of 60s garage and 70s punk records, its story told by an expert ranter/raver who also happens to be a novice ghost. We lost a lot when we lost Joe. -–Rob Smith

52. John Legend, “Ordinary People“
Take a minute and ponder the fact that this elegant piano ballad was co-written by the same guy who wrote “My Humps.” Don’t let that fact keep you from enjoying this song, a simple, heart-rending piano ballad that introduced John Legend as the Stevie Wonder (OK, maybe not the Stevie Wonder…the Lionel Richie?) of his generation. –MH

51. Kanye West, “Gold Digger“
The second single from Kanye’s second album, “Gold Digger” tells the tragic tale of a man used by his woman for financial gain. The hugely successful single owes much to the revised version of Ray Charles’ “I Got A Woman” as interpreted by Jamie Foxx, and the scratches of DJ A-Trak. –KS

50. Feist, “Mushaboom“
For a long time, I had no idea what the hell a “Mushaboom” was. Turns out, it’s a village in Nova Scotia, Canada. Once I found that out, the lyrics made a whole lot more sense to me. The first single from Broken Social Scene’s (Leslie) Feist’s second solo album, 2004’s Let It Die, “Mushaboom” was her breakout hit and paved the way for one of her future songs to be used in an iPod commercial. Just messing with you, Leslie. I love you and your song. –KeSt

49. Kylie Minogue, “Can’t Get You Out of My Head“
Quick – how much of this song do you actually remember? Probably not much – but that’s OK, because that na-na-na hook wormed its way into several billion ears worldwide in 2002, taking the appropriately titled “Can’t Get You Out of My Head” to #1 in 40 countries. In the U.S. it was the second of Kylie’s two – count ’em, two – career Top 10 pop hits; everywhere else, she’s so popular that an exhibit of her stage costumes had crowds queuing around the block at a London museum a couple years back. –JC

48. Wilco, “Jesus Etc.“
Yankee Hotel Foxtrot in a nutshell—a deceptively simple piece that unfolds gradually, over repeated contact with the listener. The instruments bounce and slide around, as Tweedy does his best to simultaneously defy meaning and encapsulate the entire world into a four-minute song. -–RS

47. Mary J. Blige, “Family Affair“
Mary J. speaks a language all her own. Fortunately for us, Dr. Dre was there to translate on this 2001 thumper. -–RS

46. Andrew W.K., “Party Hard”
Without a doubt the dumbest song on this list by leaps and bounds, there’s just something about Andrew W.K.’s music that makes you forget how stupid it is. Maybe it’s because his lyrics are pretty damn accurate. Working sucks and partying is better. So why not get a party started and party hard, party hard, party hard. And then party even harder. Who’s going to argue with that? –DS

45. Radiohead, “Pyramid Song“
An atmospheric, piano-driven ballad from the edgy Oxford band that builds on the jazz rhythms of drummer Phil Selway, and acoustic bass provided by Colin Greenwood. The song was originally recorded during the Kid A sessions, but ended up on Amnesiac. –KS

44. Kings of Leon, “Sex on Fire“
Ostensibly an ode to diseases both emotional and venereal, this is where KoL grabbed the brass ring and did a victory lap or two around the U.S. to show it off. –RS

43. Twista (feat. Jamie Foxx & Kanye West) “Slow Jamz“
There’s just something that WORKS about this pair-up of slow grooves and fast raps. Jamie Foxx also provides quite a nice vocal turn (I especially like the way he pronounces Minnie Ripperton). Let it be known, though, that Mr. West steals the show; not only with his tremendous production, but perhaps the decade’s best “couplet”:

“She got a light skinned friend, look like Michael Jackson
Got a dark skinned friend, look like Michael Jackson” –MB

42. KT Tunstall, “Black Horse & the Cherry Tree”
Tunstall dragged the Bo Diddley beat into the 21st century with her debut single, which attracted a worldwide audience – though, in the U.S., about 30 million heard it first via Katharine McPhee’s rendition on American Idol. Nothing wrong with that – Idol brought Ray LaMontagne’s “Trouble” to the masses that same year, and it was just the exposure Tunstall needed to break out of the usual “next big thing” trap and become the actual … you know … next big thing. –JC

41. Kelly Clarkson, “Breakaway“
I prefer this track to “Since U Been Gone,” probably because a lot more songs coming out of the auto-tuned throats of faux-punk hipsters and processed Disney queens sound like that song than this one. This, for me, is just a beautiful ballad that avoids the bombastic trends of more diva-esque productions, while showcasing the true talent of the first (and by far the best) American Idol winner. –MB

40. Justin Timberlake, “Sexyback”
A few years ago I remember Kanye West saying that Justin Timberlake should be the #1 artist on the planet (right before stating that he himself is actually that guy, of course) if only he released some music – and he’s right. Justin Timberlake can do no wrong. Two great albums after leaving a boy band, television and movie appearances where he’s proven to be pretty damn funny and a collaborator with many, he’s almost untouchable. Except for the fact that he only releases an album every four years. If he were to crank out more undeniably catchy and unique songs like “Sexyback” who knows how huge he’d be right now. –DS

39. Ryan Adams, “New York, New York“
Two weeks after 9/11, Gold found its way into my CD player, introducing itself with this ode to a woman and the city she most resembles. A classic was born, as was an artist whose ambitions far exceeded anything we had previously thought possible from him. -–RS

38. Yeah Yeah Yeahs, “Maps“
Written about lead singer Karen O’s then-boyfriend Angus Andrew of Liars, “Maps” is the love song indie kids and hipsters were waiting for. Released as a single from the band’s 2003 debut full-length album, Fever to Tell, it became a hit after its video started getting heavy airplay on MTV. Apparently, Kelly Clarkson loved it so much that its guitar break is allegedly replicated in her hit, “Since U Been Gone,” about which Karen O had this to say in a 2006 Rolling Stone interview: “It was like getting bitten by a poisonous varmint.” Ouch. –KeSt

37. Gorillaz, “Clint Eastwood“
It sounds like a match made in Hell – Damon Albarn, Dan The Automator, and throw in cartoon personae, all doing some loopy, island-inflected hip-hop thing. Instead, everything falls together to make one of the most enjoyable, if bizarre, albums of the decade. And why is it called “Clint Eastwood” anyway? –DWD

36. The New Pornographers, “The Bleeding Heart Show”
Like a 1970s glee club staring down the edge of the abyss, the New Pornographers’ mass of voices, pared to Boho-paranoid lyrics in an ever-building swell is not for everyone. But if you’re at all interested in power pop featuring Neko Case’s tone-perfect voice, this might be for you. –DWD

35. The Flaming Lips, “Do You Realize??”
Of all the places to hear a Flaming Lips tune, my exposure came from a TV commercial. Before that, all I had was vague recollections of hearing “She Don’t Use Jelly,” but this mini-epic of a song hooked me well enough that I had to purchase Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots by week’s end – a purchase I don’t regret in the slightest. –DWD

34. David Gray, “Babylon“
Let go your heart / Let go your head / And feel it now. I felt it from the moment I first heard it, afterwards sitting in an idling car outside an Italian restaurant where my family waited for me as I prayed the DJ would back-announce the track. -–RS

33. R. Kelly, “Ignition (Remix)”
Now known as one of R. Kelly’s signature songs, the remix to “Ignition” was hot and fresh out the kitchen and one of the biggest panty droppers of 2003. A club favorite — girls could get all sexy and guys could sing along and not look totally lame — it’s no doubt there are some five-year-olds in this world that owe their existence to Jack Daniels and R. Kelly. –DS

32. Justin Timberlake “Cry Me a River“
This song might as well have been titled “Britney, you bitch!” This middle finger to an emotionally abusive lover was the song that turned Justin from “that guy from N’Sync” to “Justin Timberlake.” Helped along by Timbaland’s sympathetic production (complete with goth twist), this was JT’s first step away from simply being a Michael Jackson clone and toward being an actual artist with something unique to say. –MH

31. Arctic Monkeys, “I Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor“
A blast of fresh air from Sheffield, “Dance Floor” was the Monkeys’ first single. The song skillfully employs a Clash-like punk intensity with a bass and drum workout that kept the punters moving. An early sign of good things to come from the young band. –KS

30. Adele, “Chasing Pavements“
If you want a giggle, go to Urbandictionary.com and type in “chasing pavements,” then click to the second page. According to Adele, her song was banned from several U.S. radio stations because of some of those crazy misinterpretations of the phrase. Kids these days… The song, which was the second single from Adele’s critically-acclaimed debut album, 19, won two Grammys and garnered her immediate comparisons to Amy Winehouse — for her voice, that is; Adele, is not a hot mess. –KeSt

29. The Knife, “Heartbeats“
The song that took the blogosphere by storm and introduced the world to Swedish brother and sister duo The Knife, “Heartbeats” is a practically perfect synth-pop song. But what stands out to me the most is its lyrics, which are unexpectedly poignant and beautiful. The interesting thing is that the covers of this song, at least the ones I’ve heard, are just as wonderful as the original. My favorites are José González’s stripped-down, folk version and Scala & Kolacny Brothers’ version, which turns the song into a simple piano ballad sung by a choir of teenage girls. For what it’s worth, this was my pick for best song of the decade. –KeSt

28. Amy Winehouse, “Rehab“
Rarely does a recording define an artist so perfectly, for better or for worse, than “Rehab” does for the brilliant but self-destructive Winehouse. Updating early-’60s orchestral pop into a sound that conjures Shirley Bassey working with Phil Spector, Winehouse created a classic backdrop for a thoroughly modern (not to mention autobiographical) lyrical conceit – one that, within a year of its Grammy sweep, would come to seem less defiant than foolish as her substance-abuse and health issues became frightening tabloid fodder. –JC

27. The Darkness, “I Believe In a Thing Called Love”
To complain about the Darkness being a joke band is to admit that you’ve missed the joke — which is exquisite and all-encompassing, taking in every detail of the band’s sound and presentation, from Justin’s wonky teeth to the car-radio tone of the opening guitars. The only possible disagreement can be as to which detail is most delightful; the bass player’s nerdy eagerness, or the drummer’s utter disdain? The mere fact of a grown man squealing “Gee-tar!!”, or the unhinged glee with which he does so? Heady debates, indeed. –JF

26. Gorillaz, “Feel Good Inc.”
My daughter. Thirteen. Artist, music lover, rugged individualist. I went to put away some laundry one summer Monday, and saw this on her bedroom wall:

Over the weekend, she had painted this mural in acrylics.

It’s a nice enough pieces of draftsmanship, but what really got me is the little unfinished detail on the left. Maybe it’s supposed to be Noodle, but I think it’s a secret self-portrait; so caught up in this hip-pop fantasia that she was inspired to literally pencil herself in at its edges. There is, for me, no further argument necessary for the greatness of “Feel Good Inc.” –JF

25. Green Day, “Boulevard of Broken Dreams”

24. Death Cab for Cutie, “I Will Possess Your Heart”
To paraphrase Roger Ebert, a good song is always exactly the right length, while a bad song, however short, is always too long. With “I Will Possess Your Heart,” four and a half minutes of instrumental slowburn elapse before the lyrics kick in, and it’s not a second too much. As the stalker so sick in the head that he mistakes love for ownership, Gibbard has never sounded so convincing; but it’s the maddening, obstinate bassline that really sells it. –JF

23. Death Cab for Cutie, “I Will Follow You into the Dark“
The coolest-ever way of saying, “‘Til death do us part’ is simply not enough.” -–Rob Smith

22. Outkast, “Bombs Over Baghdad (B.O.B.)”
Big Boi and Andre 3000 couldn’t have had even the slightest idea how prescient that title was. 18 months after the song was released, the tragedy of 9/11 and the subsequent invasion of Iran gave this post-apocalyptic mix-up of Miami bass and jungle (with a gospel choir thrown in) a much sinister meaning. This song set the bar for hip-hop experimentation in the 21st century. –MH

21. Scissor Sisters, “I Don’t Feel Like Dancin’”
The best disco song in at least a quarter-century features quite the pedigree – an American glam-rock group that’s achieved little success in its homeland but is massively popular overseas, working with its hero, Elton John, to create a track that apes Leo Sayer. The result is straight outta summer 1977 – it features Star Wars-style laser gun effects, for crying out loud! – and really ought to have been released inside a Casablanca Records sleeve. –JC

20. Franz Ferdinand “Take Me Out”
Somewhere in the grunge era, rockers forgot how to dance. Scottish band Franz Ferdinand were one of the bands that brought the groove back to indie rock, inspiring a heap of late-decade bands inspired more by Duran Duran than Seventies punk. Alex Kapranos’ arch delivery and the song’s ambiguous meaning (was it about being taken out like a date, or about being taken out, like…killed?) helped to make it the breakthrough hit for this band. –MH

19. Kanye West, “Jesus Walks”
Moving from an expression of devotion and vulnerability to a “Bring the Noise”-style boast, “Jesus Walks” is mildly schizophrenic, to say the least. As a dude with my own complicated relationship with Mr. Christ, I can relate. The martial cadence — marching music for soldiers of the Cross — is straight-up thrilling, even for agnostics; and Kanye’s confusion, as it became more familiar, would never again sound quite so endearing. –JF

18. Coldplay, “Clocks”
The relentless and (throughout 2003) inescapable “Clocks” features one of rock’s all-time great piano riffs, a descending-scale progression that brings to the song both a driving immediacy and a strangely elegiac quality. It’s matched with an inscrutable lyric that one tends to experience in snippets, rather than in total – phrases like “curse missed opportunities” occasionally waft above the mix, but only briefly distract from that … incessant … riff. You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you? Well, congratulations, it’ll be in your head for the rest of the day now. This is the track that took Coldplay from their early-aughts status as a point on the Radiohead-to-Travis continuum to thinking they could challenge U2 as The World’s Biggest Band. Don’t blame the song, though. –JC

17. M.I.A., “Paper Planes“
The single that seemed to be everywhere during 2008 is three minutes of revolutionary, polyglot globalism. Built on the groove from the Clash classic “Straight to Hell” – which itself was an indictment of immigrants’ treatment in the West, permeated with southeast-Asian tonal influences – “Paper Planes” takes much the same approach, mocking the perception of dark-skinned immigrants as somehow dangerous. The lyrical patois, and the sound of cash registers and gunshots in the chorus, imbued the track with exotic and political undertones, and made the song an ideal vehicle for imparting multiculturalism and rebellion. That explains its use in movie trailers for Pineapple Express and Capitalism, A Love Story – and the indelible impression it leaves at a key moment in Slumdog Millionaire. A magnet for both remixes and controversy (much of it related to the song’s provocations and M.I.A.’s background as a member of Sri Lanka’s Tamil minority), “Paper Planes” will be remembered as nothing less than the sound of its historical moment. How many songs can say that? –JC

16. Beyonce, “Crazy in Love”
Her first solo single blew out the speakers like a long-lost, celebratory finale of Wattstax – finally establishing Beyonce as the heiress to Ruth Brown and Etta James and Diana Ross and Aretha Franklin. “Crazy in Love” had one foot in R&B’s past and one in its present – its horn- riff hook is lifted from the Chi-Lites’ 1970 hit “Are You My Woman? (Tell Me So),” while Jay-Z provides the rare guest appearance by a rapper that actually enhances a track’s excitement quotient, rather than bringing it down. This is where Beyonce became pop royalty, and she’s worn the crown well ever since. –JC

15. Foo Fighters, “The Pretender“
An admission, a question, a warning, and a battle cry. Once again, Grohl, Inc. frontloads an album with a shit-hot single that slays everything in its path. –RS

14. Dixie Chicks, “Not Ready to Make Nice“
If you haven’t heard about the controversy the Dixie Chicks kicked up in 2003 when lead singer Natalie Maines declared on stage in London that she was ashamed to be from the same state as President George W. Bush, I would recommend you watch the excellent documentary Shut Up and Sing, which chronicles the Chicks’ lives after the comment and their journey to make their seventh album, Taking the Long Way. Released as the first single from that record, “Not Ready to Make Nice” is a direct reaction to that controversy and how they were treated by fans and the country music establishment, as well as a declaration that they won’t apologize for their feelings and opinions (though Maines has said the song was written to have a more universal interpretation). It deservedly won three Grammys, including Record of the Year and Song of the Year. I wasn’t really much of Chicks fan previously, though one of my good friends really tried to make me one over the years. But this song, and their passion for their beliefs, totally won me over. –KeSt

13. Prince, “Black Sweat”
It was a bit of a shock back in 2004 when Prince released Musicology, giving the world his best music in nearly a decade. So when he followed it up with an ever better album – 3121 – it was a little mind-blowing. The centerpiece of the record was one of his funkiest songs ever, “Black Sweat.” A nice quick burst of energy that almost makes you want to break out the robot, Prince brought back a slight bit of the sexual innuendo that made him so famous which was a nice change from the clean, spiritual Prince we’d seen for a few years now. The video just enhanced the appeal with a simple black & white picture and a lady dancing all sexy-like. But who can forget the disgusted look on his face at the most memorable part of the song, “You’ll be screamin’ like a white lady when I count to three/one, two, three.” Nice to see the old guy still has memorable songs in him. –DS

12. White Stripes, “Seven Nation Army”
From 2003’s Elephant album, the track the put the White Stripes on the map. Meg White beats the drums like a bad habit, while Jack White weighs in with some Jimmy Page-inspired guitar riffage. Is that a bass guitar I hear? The place where Led Zeppelin meets the future. –KS

11. Eminem, “Lose Yourself”
If the “Rabbit” character was 8 Mile’s Rocky Balboa, then “Lose Yourself” was the movie’s “Eye of the Tiger.” A hip-hop twist on the “succeeding against all odds” theme that’s the subject of many classic films, Eminem attacks this song with a hunger missing from much of his recent music. Tongue-twisting his way through a variety of internal rhyme schemes, “Lose Yourself” also ranks as possibly the most lyrically complex hip-hop song to ever hit #1 on the pop charts. –MH

10. Green Day, “American Idiot“
It blasted its way onto the radio in September 2004, right in the middle of a re-election race that half the country couldn’t imagine George Bush might win. Even as Fox News and a multimillion-dollar ad campaign snowed a nation’s gullible booboisie into believing an upstanding war hero was a flip-flopping coward, Green Day arrived to rail against the “subliminal mind-fuck” being perpetrated daily by America’s corporate media. Billie Joe Armstrong took no prisoners in his attacks on the conservative “redneck agenda” and the “age of paranoia” it was creating, and “American Idiot” quickly (if not quite quickly enough) became an anthem of disillusionment and antagonism toward the post-9/11 Powers That Were. It’s the song that should be placed in every time-capsule remembrance of the 21st century’s first decade – and hopefully, by the time those capsules are exhumed, its sentiments will seem unnecessary, its targets archaic and ridiculous. But probably not. –JC

9. Jimmy Eat World, “The Middle“
The band has been branded as a pioneer of the emo scene, but this song seems more like power pop’s last stand against emo, not just the sound, but the lyrics, which aim more for a straight-edged positivity than black-clad depression. This song is a big, greasy slab of hooks arranged like punk’s little brother, condensing everything that Green Day wanted to be during their first decade into two minutes and forty-nine seconds, making it less cynical, and then blowing it away. For this decade of auto-tuning and digital compression, bands supplemented by session musicians and teams of songwriters. this was as good as straight-ahead, mass-consumable rock got: a tight, multi-layered, chugging riff that quickly got under your skin and stayed there; a big, fat, underwater bassline connecting the guitars to the drums; a singalong chorus (with harmonies!); and, perhaps most important, no desire to mess around with any pre-choruses, bridges, or outros. Get in. Rock. Get out. Repeat. –MB

8. Bruce Springsteen, “The Rising“
As the story goes, after the 9/11 attacks, Bruce Springsteen was driving through his hometown when a stranger called out to him, “We need you!” The nation was hurting and needed an anthem. Not some jingoistic call to arms against our enemies, but a song that brought people together, blue, red, black, white, yellow and brown; a song that paid tribute to the heroes who fought valiantly on that tragic day.From that plea from a fan came the album The Rising, and its magnificent title track. Sung from the perspective of a spirit rising up to heaven, the imagery of “The Rising” is inspiring and heartbreaking. Whether backed majestically by his faithful E Street Band, or played acoustically by just the Boss and his guitar, “The Rising” is not only one of the best songs in the past decade, but on of the best in Springsteen’s storied career. –SM

7. Eminem, “Stan“
Eminem hears from a obsessed fan, who expresses disappointment that he hasn’t gotten a response to his previous communications. The letters grow ever more desperate in tone. By the time Eminem sits down to write back, it’s too late, fate has intervened. A compelling look at the pitfalls of fame, and the the danger of becoming obsessed with our heroes. A fictional story, but frighteningly real. –KS

6. Johnny Cash, “Hurt“
If only Trent Reznor could write a song like “Hurt,” it’s hard to imagine anyone but Johnny Cash making it sound like a standard. His glorious baritone worn down from age, he intones the lyrics like a man writing his own grim eulogy — which, given his health at the time, may very well have been true. The arrangement is as starkly powerful as anything on the Rick Rubin-produced American series, of course, but something about “Hurt” stands out. Ultimately, the video is what drove it all home: it’s hard to imagine a more powerful image than Johnny Cash, one of America’s most iconic figures, suddenly looking so vulnerable, so human, so utterly spent. Nine Inch Nails were one of many young bands in the ’90s who practically romanticized pain and death, but for one instance we were allowed to see the other side of it, the fear and regret we rarely like to acknowledge until faced with our own mortality. In this sense, Johnny Cash took Trent Reznor’s Hurt and made it universal. Though one could argue wether it’s the definitive reading of the song (Trent’s own solo piano version, as demonstrated at the React Now benefit, is fairly devastating), that’s almost besides the point. More than any other song on this list, “Hurt” now has all the makings of a future classic. RIP, Johnny. –Anthony Hansen

5. Jay-Z “99 Problems”
Def Jam’s founder crossed paths with one of the label’s biggest artists on a song that caused hip-hop fans of all stripes to lose one in their collective pants. Rubin’s ground-shaking collage of samples (Billy Squier and Mountain!) provided the perfect backdrop for an icy cool Jay-Z to give the finger to critics and racist cops. While Jay was already pretty established as the alpha emcee, Rubin’s production left rap fans hoping he’d return to the genre full-time. Extra points for having the best use of cowbell on a rap record ever. –MH

4. Kelly Clarkson, “Since U Been Gone”
Forget the drippy, inspirational bland-outs we had come to expect from American Idol winners – Clarkson blew them out of the water with this joyfully rocking kiss-off to an ex-boyfriend, written by Swedish teen-pop hitmeisters Max Martin and Dr. Luke. Appropriating alt-rock’s soft/loud dichotomy and giving it a delicious, electronics-enhanced sheen, “Since U Been Gone” was so perfect that it became the template for girl-power pop through the remainder of the decade – including other Martin-created confections like Pink’s “So What,” Katy Perry’s “Hot N Cold” and Clarkson’s own “My Life Would Suck Without You.” –JC

3. Rihanna, “Umbrella“
First, it’s the drum loop: an old school beat like they used back in the 1980’s. Then it’s the quick, effective Jay-Z guest rap, harkening back to the mid-90’s and Dr. Dre’s intro for Blackstreet’s “No Diggity.” Finally it’s into this decade: crunked-out, almost sci-fi keyboard backings, growing stronger each time through the verse and chorus, only letting up for the bridge before pouncing back in to help drive the final chorus home. And on top of all that is Rhianna’s vocals, which harken back to any of these three decades. And the hooks….the hooks! Of course there’s the “Ella…ella…hey, hey” that forces itself into your brain, walking a tightrope between cool and annoying. But the chorus itself is just a great progression, helped out even more by a bit of dissonance in the keyboard arrangement keeper the listener on edge just enough that it’s almost impossible to treat the song like background music. And then, there’s a subtle hook just among the interplay of voice and chords in the verse. With it’s incorporation of influences brought together in a mashup of rap, hip-hop, Top 40, R&B and studio effects, this may be the track that most defined pop music in the ’00s. –MB

2. Gnarls Barkley, “Crazy”
Not so long ago, a song’s success was measured not in how many records, but in how many copies of the sheet music were sold. The idea that a musical composition is somehow inseparable from a single definitive recording comes not from the world of pop, but from musique concrete — “concrete” meaning that the music itself was intrinsic to a particular physical object, i.e., the master tape of the recording. It’s an idea that’s only two generations old, but it shapes a conversation that subsumes elements of both culture and economics: Music as cultural product to be assimilated (i.e., music as meme) vs. Music as commodity to be consumed as-is.

The notion that every good song must by definition pass the campfire test — i.e., that you could sing it the accompaniment of an acoustic guitar — is probably unnecessarily reductive. But I would argue that such songs are more memetically robust than songs structured around recording-studio frippery, which may be very beautiful indeed but are something of a hothouse flower, less likely to survive in the larger memepool. E.g.: Not only can you not strum Fatboy Slim’s “Praise You” on an acoustic guitar, you can’t even sing it in the shower, because human voices just don’t do that. Likewise, the idea of publishing sheet music for “Praise You” is laughable. Although ostensibly a vocal number, it’s entirely a creation of the studio — irreproducible. Incapable of reproduction (though obviously of mass production). Sterile, in the dictionary sense.

Music that’s highly structured, though — highly reproducible, standing up to multiple interpretations in a variety of contexts while still remaining essentially itself — is music as meme; participatory, samizdat, evolving. If it lasts long enough, it becomes a folk song — the original authorship is forgotten and the notion of “ownership” becomes moot: it “belongs” to anyone who sings it. Musique concrete, on the other hand — highly produced but irreproducible — is music as commodity: encapsulated in a particular physical object, it cannot be “performed” as such, only bought and sold.

Such were the propositions we were arguing, in the heady early days of 2006. Accusations of “rockism” were being thrown, and even of racism, since a lack of “proper tunes” is often invoked as being exactly what’s wrong with contemporary black-identified music. Then “Crazy” came out, and with it the nine days’ wonder of other artists covering “Crazy”; some of them were goofs or thrill-seekers or trend-hoppers, but most were responding to the head-colonizing earworm vigor of the thing. In the end, the argument was neither won nor lost; we were all so busy singing along that we forgot all about it. –JF

1. Outkast, “Hey Ya”
It really shouldn’t have come as such a shock. Their previous hit, “Ms. Jackson” (from the Stankonia album) alluded to the fact that Big Boi and Andre 3000 were full-blooded pop stars. They just needed a confection with a little more bounce and, brother, did they ever get it. Married to the sound of some mid-’60s dance craze that never was, “Hey Ya” exemplified something very few tunes of the time had; a sense of fun. It shares that retro-soul feel found on this list’s #2 selection, and like that tune, “Hey Ya” was overplayed, even by modern radio’s ADHD standards. But unlike other songs that dominated the pop charts for a season, and just as likely wore out their welcome in time for autumn colors to surface on the trees, the ghost of “shakin’ it like a Polaroid picture” can still put a smile on your face. –DWD

We begin with the decade’s best movies — and, if nothing else, our list is certainly genre-film-friendly: Somewhere in the middle, Let the Right One In, Hellboy, Hot Fuzz and Mulholland Drive sit proudly side by side. Because our crew of participants isn’t all that big (11 of Popdose’s writers contributed), a few personal favorites that one might not expect somehow earned enough votes to make the cut (hello, Dodgeball!); nonetheless, we were all pleasantly surprised to see that our compiled Top 100 offers such a nice balance of prestige films and high-quality popcorn fare. Of course, since this list is being posted before Thanksgiving, 2009’s holiday films (and likely Oscar bait) aren’t represented; over the coming months we’ll no doubt be kicking ourselves that we didn’t yet know the quality of films like Up in the Air, Invictus, The Lovely Bones, Nine … Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel… With that caveat in mind, away we go!

1. The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (dir. Peter Jackson, 2003). I felt the stirrings of greatness watching The Fellowship of the Ring, my first truly elating experience at the movies following 9/11 that dismal year. The Two Towers confirmed that a special cinematic event was unfolding. I could sit back from 2002-03 confident that the payoff would be astounding — and it was. Another long-awaited fantasy trilogy that was also underway at that time was weak by comparison; unlearning his own lesson, George Lucas put his characters in the service of effects, rather than the other way around. Because of an iconic troupe of actors, smart scripting and taut direction over many hours, I believed completely in Middle Earth, and left it only reluctantly — but what a wrap-up, brimming with action and cascading with soul. Rarely have I been so overwhelmed. Thank you, Peter Jackson. I’m fully confident that, with your guidance, Guillermo Del Toro will put The Hobbit on my Top 100 list a decade from now. –Bob Cashill

2. Almost Famous (dir. Cameron Crowe, 2001). Crowe’s semi-autobigraphical film is a culmination of all the themes he had been working on throughout his career: first love, family, discovering who you are, and of course music. As William, Patrick Fugit is our eyes and ears into the insane world of 1970s rock and roll. Although his overprotective mother (a wonderful Frances McDormand) disapproves, William, a teenage prodigy who is about to graduate from high school early, heads off on the road with the band Stillwater. While this assignment for Rolling Stone should only last a week, William falls under the spell of the road; he falls in love with a groupie … er, I mean “band-aid” (a lovely Kate Hudson); and he breaks the cardinal rule of a rock reporter, a rule handed down to him by legendary critic Lester Bangs (Phillip Seymour Hoffman in a scene-stealing part) — he makes friends with the band. But he doesn’t just become their friend … he becomes part of their family. The relationship that develops between William and Stillwater’s charismatic guitarist, Russell Hammond (Billy Crudup in his best performance to date), is not just reporter to musician, but brother. It is odd to think that a film that lovingly uses Stevie Wonder’s “My Cherie Amour” over a drug-overdose stomach-pumping scene would end up as one of the best coming-of-age stories ever (I mean that), but Crowe’s ability to balance humor and pathos makes every scene feel like magic. This is a story about the heart, written from the heart, and no matter how many great films Crowe makes from this point forward, he can rest easy knowing he’s made his masterpiece. Oh, and there is kick-ass music throughout the film. –Scott Malchus

3. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (dir. Peter Jackson, 2001). Fellowship short-circuited my critical faculties like no other film, before or since. From its opening moments, my eyes were filled with tears, simply for how right it all was. For the full runtime, I alternately gawked and wept, and I could not form a coherent sentence for a good 45 minutes afterward. I’ve watched the film countless times since, and its flaws have become apparent even to me — but it remains, I think, the most beautiful, most faithful, and most emotionally resonant of the trilogy, thanks in no small part to Sean Bean; as Boromir, he may not get much screen time, but the tragedy of his fall haunts all the films. –Jack Feerick

4. Pan’s Labyrinth (dir. Guillermo del Toro, 2006). Mexican filmmaker del Toro’s Spanish-language parable was perhaps the most imaginative, visually arresting film of the decade. The director skillfully blends fact (the 1944 aftermath of the Spanish Civil War) with fantasy (a young girl’s retreat from the violent world of her Falangist stepfather). The film’s ending, seen by some as depressing, is actually full of hope. –Ken Shane

5. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (dir. Michel Gondry, 2004). What makes a film about forgetting so memorable? Though it dazzles with surreal effects and madcap hijinks, Eternal Sunshine is grounded in an essential human dilemma — the need to love and be loved, even after your loved one’s flaws have become distressingly apparent. This is by far the most emotionally resonant of the brilliant Charlie Kaufman’s films (he co-wrote the Oscar-winning screenplay with Gondry and performance artist Pierre Bismuth). In his second feature after making his name with commercials and music videos, Gondry creates a vivid world of memory and psychosis inside the head of protagonist Joel Barish (Jim Carrey, in one of his few great performances). Then, as Joel’s memories of girlfriend Clementine (Kate Winslet) are erased by employees of Lacuna, Inc. who have their own problems, Gondry collapses Joel’s world, both metaphysically and tangibly, in a psychotraumatic freakout that manages to be at once whimsical and devastating. –Jon Cummings

6. Memento (dir. Christopher Nolan, 2000). The audience loves a good mindgame, and Nolan served up one of the best with this story of an amnesiac who has to retrace how he arrived in a horrible situation. With the help of tattoos, recordings and other clues, we retrace those steps with him, moving forward in the film but backward in time. Guy Pearce makes the character work in an angle, amnesia, that many an actor has failed with previously. Being only Nolan’s second film, and first to gain real notoriety, Memento was an auspicious introduction to an appreciative audience. –Dw. Dunphy

7. There Will Be Blood (dir. Paul Thomas Anderson, 2007). Writer/director Anderson’s much-anticipated first feature film in five years – after 2002’s Punch Drunk Love (see #86 below) – There Will Be Blood loosely adapts Upton Sinclair’s 1927 novel Oil! into one of the most powerful films of the decade. Daniel Day-Lewis turns in a brilliant performance as oil prospector Daniel Plainview, a man whose greed takes over his life and turns him into a ruthless shell of a human being. I was mesmerized by this film and its breathtaking cinematography, gorgeous soundtrack (provided by Radiohead’s Jonny Greenwood), and incredible performances by Day-Lewis and Paul Dano. It also contained one of my favorite lines of dialogue in any movie, ever: “I … drink … your … milkshake!” Indeed. –Kelly Stitzel

8. The Dark Knight (dir. Christopher Nolan, 2008). It is the bleakest superhero film ever, and Christian Bale turns on the “growly, scary” voice one too many times, but The Dark Knight finally did what no previous superhero flick could: turn the whole concept of intention on it’s head. In the Joker, we have a psychopath yearning for anarchic dystopia. There is no hidden agenda, even though, all through the film, he purports to have several. Never before has the term “criminally insane” been explored in popcorn pop culture in such an immediate way, exploding the myth that everyone has a reason for the things they do. Perhaps such a Nietzchean evil isn’t meant to be examined in a comic-book flick, but one less superhero or supervillain acting out his daddy issues is, in itself, a blessing. –Dw.D

9. Sideways (dir. Alexander Payne, 2004). A film as rich and intoxicating as the Pinot Noirs that inspire its protagonists to traipse through California’s Santa Ynez Valley, Sideways redefined the ensemble comedy on Payne’s idiosyncratic terms. He finds the heart in, and forces the audience to root for, an utterly unlikeable author/wine aficianado (the always wonderful Paul Giamatti) who’s stubborn, cynical, creatively stuck and hopeless with women. Of course, all it takes is a good, earthy woman to make him reconsider, if not completely change, his ways. (It helps that the woman is played with such exquisite understatement by Virginia Madsen, in a career-reviving performance.) Among its many other accomplishments, Sideways made a generation of filmgoers think differently about wine; all it took was one lingering shot of a vineyard picnic to send tourists streaming into Santa Ynez. Five years since its release, business is still booming at the Hitching Post restaurant in Buellton … and sales of fucking Merlot have never been the same. –JC

10. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (dir. Peter Jackson, 2002). The second chapter of the once-thought-unfilmable J.R.R. Tolkien epic, Jackson’s adaptation never falters and maintains its intensity from the first moment to the last. The potential for failure was great: Most trilogy second acts are pale imitations of the first, especially considering The Two Towers is the fantasy equivalent of a road picture, with Frodo and Samwise setting out to destroy the evil “One Ring.” It is the commitment to the fictional universe created by Jackson and WETA Workshop, and the near-transcendent performance of Andy Serkis as Gollum (in actuality a motion-captured feat of CG), that elevates the film into something entirely different from its genre-mates. –Dw.D

11. Finding Nemo (dirs. Andrew Stanton and Lee Unkrich, 2003). To my mind, this is the finest film Pixar has made since Toy Story. For their animated film about a father fish looking for his lost son, Stanton and Unkrich did not cast “big stars” but went with Albert Brooks, Ellen DeGeneres (whose career was then on a downswing) and some of the world’s greatest character actors including Stephen Root, Allison Janney and Willem Dafoe. The underwater sequences are breathtaking, the turtles are hilarious, and the whole prison-break plot is well planned and executed — but what gets you every time is the love Marlin (Brooks) has for his son Nemo (Alexander Gould). It’s difficult enough to pull off an emotional resonant film between father and son without it becoming saccharine, and Pixar did it with animated characters! This being a Pixar film, you expect it to look beautiful and you expect it to be well written and performed. But the pumping heart underneath Finding Nemo seems to be bigger than most of their other films — as big as the ocean — making it my favorite animated movie and one of the best of the last 10 years. –SM

12. No Country for Old Men (dirs. Joel and Ethan Coen, 2007). Man goes hunting. Man discovers the aftermath of a drug deal gone wrong. Man finds bag of drug money clutched in the hands of a dead dealer. Man takes money. Man is hunted by a soulless, evil assassin. Soulless, evil assassin is hunted by small-town sheriff not sure he can keep up with the latest breed of criminals. All hell breaks loose. I couldn’t stop thinking about No Country for Old Men for months after I saw it in the theater. The aforementioned soulless villain, Anton Chigurh – chillingly portrayed by Javier Bardem, who deservedly won the Best Supporting Actor Academy Award® for his performance – invaded my dreams many, many times. While there are some major differences between the book and the film, the Coen Brothers did a wonderful job with their adaptation, answering some questions the book asked and, in turn, asking new questions the viewer (and reader) may not have considered. This has become my favorite Coen Brothers movie, and is my pick for best movie of the decade. –Kelly S.

13. Shaun of the Dead (dir. Edgar Wright, 2004). No less an authority than my sainted wife calls this “the perfect date movie,” and that’s good enough for me. It would be easy, especially in a high-concept comedy like this, to resort to caricature and let the situations do the heavy lifting. But by casting honest-to-God actors rather than comedians, and giving them the space to create believable characters, director/co-writer Wright pulls off a horror romantic comedy that succeeds on all fronts — nail-bitingly tense, fall-down funny, shot through with anguish and tenderness. There’s no shortage of entrails on display in Shaun, but what shows most is its heart. –JF

14. O Brother Where Art Thou? (dirs. Joel and Ethan Coen, 2000). It’s rare when such a terrific movie boasts a soundtrack that becomes a phenomenon all on its own — but that’s the brilliance with which the Coen brothers (working with music director T Bone Burnett) used fresh recordings of “old-timey” music to propel their arch adventure-comedy. Loosely (and I mean loosely) based on Homer, O Brother sends its trio of chain-gang escapees (George Clooney, John Turturo, Tim Blake Nelson) on an odyssey of Gump-like encounters with Depression-era Southern archtypes, from a crossroads bluesman to a KKK rally, and from a getaway with Baby Face Nelson to an uneasy alliance with a good-old-boy governor. Along the way they stumble into a radio station to “sing into a can” and emerge as the Soggy Bottom Boys — and the irrepressible Clooney’s lip-syncing performances of “A Man of Constant Sorrow” were classic Coen moments. –JC

15. Slumdog Millionaire (dir. Danny Boyle, 2008). At its best, the cinema immerses us in richly textured worlds that are at once unfamiliar and yet relevant to our own experience. Slumdog Millionaire, based on the Indian novel Q&A, embodies its historical moment more than any film in recent years, introducing us to an exotic culture that is rapidly transforming itself into one more like our own — for better and for worse. It’s globalization incarnate, really, as we (along with the slumdogs themselves) watch the impoverished chaos of Bombay turn into the high-rises of Mumbai, and are introduced to the contemporary Indians who are filling our outsourced jobs even as they obsess over the same game show we do. All the while, Boyle keeps the emotions of the film’s central, at times Dickensian coming-of-age romance at the forefront — achieving a one-world universality that perfectly suits our increasingly multicultural existence. –JC

16. The Wrestler (dir. Darren Aronofsky, 2008). When my friends and I had a discussion about our favorite movies of 2008 right around Oscar time this year, and I told them my choice was The Wrestler, their immediate response was, “Really?” I can understand why they would have that reaction – it actually surprised me how much I loved it. I mean, a film about a washed-up professional wrestler trying to make a career comeback doesn’t seem like the kind of movie I would be enamored of, but it was. Between Mickey Rourke’s heartbreaking portrayal of Randy “The Ram” Robinson, whose life seems to parallel Rourke’s own in many ways; Aronofsky’s fantastic direction; Robert Siegel’s beautiful script; and Marisa Tomei’s great performance as Randy’s stripper love interest, Cassidy – a role that she said she prepared for, in part, by watching episodes of the VH1/Bret Michaels reality series, Rock of Love – there’s quite a bit to love. –Kelly S.

17. The Lives of Others (dir. Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, 2006). The Cold War may be over, Germany may be reunited … but paranoia (and wiretapping) are forever. That realization helps bring a gripping immediacy to this portrait of East German totalitarianism during the mid-1980s. Our guide through East Berlin’s morass of spying, interrogation, hope and fear is Gerd Weisler (played by Ulrich Muhe), a captain in the Stasi secret police who comes to question the morality of state oppression when he becomes enveloped in the lives of a pro-Western playwright and his girlfriend, whose movements the agent is monitoring. High-stakes events unfold with increasing tension, leading to devastating consequences for all concerned. Directed with taut restraint by first-timer von Donnersmarck, The Lives of Others won the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film — but easily deserved the trophy that went to The Departed later in the evening. –JC

18. Mystic River (dir. Clint Eastwood, 2003). Eastwood has become one of the world’s great directors, something that would have surprised people who knew him mainly as Dirty Harry, and a star of spaghetti westerns. He has made some of the most accomplished films of the last 20 years, and Mystic River is one of his greatest achievements. Working with a dream cast led by a brilliant Sean Penn, and featuring an underrated performance from Tim Robbins, Mystic River (based on a novel by Dennis Lehane) tells the story of three childhood friends in Boston, and the twin tragedies, 30 years apart, that lead them down different paths and eventually shatter their lives. –Ken S.

19. The Royal Tenenbaums (dir. Wes Anderson, 2001). Bigger in scope than Anderson’s 1998 breakthrough Rushmore, Tenenbaums paints a beautiful picture of adults stuck in such a state of arrested development that they still wear the same outfits as when they were young. At once funny, sad, creepy, and angry, The Royal Tenenbaums is a modern masterpiece of mood and tone. Gene Hackman is pitch-perfect as the caddish father looking to re-enter his estranged family after the money runs out, and the rest of the ensemble cast deliver some of their strongest performances to date. –Dave Lifton

20. Spirited Away (dir. Hayao Miyazaki, 2001). No filmmaker understands childhood better than Miyazaki. The character transformation at the center of Spirited Away — fearful girl discovers inner resources of strength and compassion — is familiar enough; but Miyazaki dares to make his heroine unlovely and exasperating from the start, and the whole thing plays out in a phantasmagoric animated landscape of tremendous detail and beauty. Everything is fluid — geography, identity, anatomy — and everything is up for grabs. In this world, even your name can be bought and sold; only kindness is beyond price. –JF

21. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (dir. Ang Lee, 2000). I hoped to love this movie. It had so many of the things I enjoyed about Hong Kong and Chinese cinema, including two of my very favorite stars, Chow Yun-Fat and Michelle Yeoh. And on every level it surpassed my expectations. I swooned along with a typically hipper-than-thou and tough-to-please New York Film Festival crowd who had their senses shattered and hearts broken by Lee’s first great film of the decade. –BC

22. The Prestige (dir. Christopher Nolan, 2006). This entertaining film takes us into the world of stage magicians in London at the beginning of the 20th century. The rival magicians, played by Christian Bale and Hugh Jackman (with fine support from the reliable Michael Caine), engage in an ongoing quest to better one another, and will resort to anything to achieve their goals. Their competition inevitably leads to tragedy. The film also features a quirky performance from David Bowie as scientist Nikola Tesla. –Ken S.

23. Spider-Man 2 (dir. Sam Raimi, 2004). Like Tim Burton’s Batman (1989), the first Spider-Man had some successful elements mixed in with some dubious “commercial” ones–Macy Gray? But its popularity gave Sam Raimi more latitude the second time around, resulting in a perfectly judged comic book fantasy with deliriously exciting sequences — everything involving Alfred Molina’s Dr. Octopus is stunningly realized — and a sweetly satisfying human element (the train passengers’ defense of the fallen Spider-Man is truly touching.) We’ll pass over the overstuffed third in embarrassed silence and hope for a more satisfying fourth. –BC

24. Wall-E (dir. Andrew Stanton, 2008). People quibbled with the film’s eco-friendly third act, and it does lose a bit of the silent-movie magic established at the start of it, but Wall-E represented yet another of Pixar’s story-telling successes. It may have been marketed at the kids, but it really was a solid piece of entertainment. –Dw.D

25. The Incredibles (dir. Brad Bird, 2004). A perfect populist cinema confection, wrapping a bright pop-candy shell around a chewy political center. Playing with complex ideas about individualism and altruism one moment, satirizing genre tropes the next, The Incredibles is also — despite its fantastic elements — one of the most genuine portraits of an American family ever put to film. The more you look, the more there is to see. –JF

26. High Fidelity (dir. Stephen Frears, 2000). Based on the Nick Hornby novel of the same name, this is John Cusack’s last great movie before he started making some tragic career choices (I will never forgive him for America’s Sweethearts, Serendipity or Must Love Dogs, though I guess he gets a pass from me for Max and 1408). Music nerds, lovers of lists and hopeless romantics all can find something in common with unlucky-in-love Chicago record store owner Rob and his quest to find out why he can’t seem to stay in a relationship by recounting – and revisiting – his top five break-ups. –Kelly S.

27. Coraline (dir. Henry Selick, 2009). In an age in which computers have all but replaced traditional stop-motion animation, it’s hard for a movie like Coraline to break through. It was a crafty idea to release this as one of the first of the new (sort of rehashed) trend of 3D movies. Now practically every animated movie is shown with the option of 3D. What Coraline did that was special, however, was tell a beautiful nightmare. The film is a metaphor for the struggles children have with that “other family.” You know, the one that doesn’t say no. It’s one of the best movies of 2009. –Arend Anton

28. Children of Men (dir. Alfonso Cuaron, 2006). A lot of movies have post-apocalyptic settings. Children of Men, though, shows us the End of the World as it happens, in slow motion: the petty cruelties of a society with nothing more to aspire to, the selfishness of people marking time, waiting for the extinction they know is inevitable. Clive Owen’s performance is the movie in microcosm — a life structured on self-pity, mustering a weary decency and a well-ordered misery that is disrupted by that most violent of forces — hope. –JF

29. Donnie Darko (dir. Richard Kelly, 2001). A film that ends up being more than the sum of its parts (Jake Gyllenhaal, a heartbreaking ’80s New Wave soundtrack, and the late Patrick Swayze playing a pedophile). There are probably a lot of folks who take this movie really seriously, trying to keep all the space-time stuff straight, but it’s enough simply to bask in its sharp, nasty humor, encapsulated in scenes like the “Sparkle Motion” dance routine. That alone is worth two hours of your time. –Robin Monica Alexander

30. Iron Man (dir. Jon Favreau, 2008). One of the most important parts of a superhero’s story is his origin. A number of movies get this painfully wrong (Victor Von Doom riding the rocket with the Fantastic Four, Bruce Wayne’s parents being killed by the man that becomes the Joker, Peter Parker’s uncle killed by the guy who becomes the Sandman). Not in this case, though. Except for updating the time and location, Favreau’s version is wonderfully right. The shrapnel lodged dangerously close to Tony Stark’s heart; Yensin, the man who helps Stark build the suit; even that first butt-ugly suit itself are all straight from the comic book. There are even nods to the wonderfully cheesy theme song from the old cartoon (Rhodey’s ringtone for Tony). Plus, Robert Downey, Jr. seems to have been born to play the part of cocky millionaire industrialist Tony Stark. –Tony Redman

31. Michael Clayton (dir. Tony Gilroy, 2007). On the surface, writer/director Gilroy’s Michael Clayton is a legal thriller dealing with an environmental case. George Clooney, in one of his best film roles, plays Clayton, a “fixer” sent in to clean up messes his firm wants kept out of the papers. In essence, he gets rich clients out of embarrassing predicaments, and gets paid well to do it. But Clayton’s soul is being sucked dry by the same firm that pays him, and that’s where the film draws its power. Below the surface is the story of a man trying to redeem himself in the eyes of his mentor (a riveting Tom Wilkinson), his son, his family, and ultimately himself. Also featuring Tilda Swinton in an Academy Award-winning performance, Michael Clayton harkens back to the ’70s films of Sydney Pollack (who appears in the movie), in which films with style also had substance, and deserves to mentioned in the same league as All the President’s Men, Three Days of the Condor and The Parallax View. –SM

32. Ghost World (dir. Terry Zwigoff, 2001). I never read the graphic novel on which this movie is based, but I probably should, since I love the celluloid version so much. As a cynical, smart-assed, dark-haired, glasses-wearing, music-loving woman, I relate to the main character, Enid (played by Thora Birch) more than I have to any character in a movie or book … well, probably ever. Also starring Scarlett Johansson (before she became a huge star) and the always wonderful Steve Buscemi, Ghost World is a wonderful coming-of-age story for those of us who think coming-of-age stories are mostly lame. –Kelly S.

33. Brokeback Mountain (dir. Ang Lee, 2005). The chameleonic Lee burrowed deep into E. Annie Proulx’s short story and came up with the decade-defining romantic tragedy, one involving two men. Beautifully restrained and quietly devastating, and a film for the ages (unlike the Best Picture-stealing Crash, a movie for a few minutes). It cuts so deep. And It hurts terribly to look at the brilliant Heath Ledger in it, knowing what was to come. –BC

34. Casino Royale (dir. Martin Campbell, 2006). After the popular but unmemorable run of Brosnan Bonds the franchise needed turbocharging, and who would have thought that Daniel Craig would be the actor to supply it? Seriously—seeing him onstage in A Steady Rain on Broadway, in a completely different part, I thought, “What did the producers see in him? What did he see in himself?” Whatever, his spark lit the fuse for one of the series’ best, and most romantic, adventures. It made me a fan all over again, no small feat. –BC

35. A Mighty Wind (dir. Christopher Guest, 2003). Though not as uproariously funny as Guest’s previous films, A Mighty Wind succeeds by adding tons of heart and a strong understanding of why folk music still resonates. The big selling point was the thrill of seeing Guest, Harry Shearer, and Michael McKean in a band again, but the movie was stolen by Catherine O’Hara, who deserved an Oscar nomination for her portrayal of a former star unexpectedly re-living her youth. –DL

36. Shrek (dir. Andrew Adamson and Vicky Jenson, 2001). A fat, green ogre and a donkey star in what goes down as one of the top animated movies ever made. To me, Shrek was the turning point in animated features that made it OK for a grown man to see one without a child present. The fairytale made the kiddies laugh, and the witty dialog kept the adults wanting more. It’s a win-win situation that was duplicated three years later in the sequel. –Dave Steed

37. Adaptation. (dir. Spike Jonze, 2002). The brilliant thing about the script for Adaptation. is that Charlie Kaufman’s creative solution for writer’s block fits the project so perfectly. There probably isn’t a writer in Hollywood who could get away with what Kaufman did here. Shall we count his crimes? Instead of strictly adapting a slightly intriguing book about rare orchids, he placed himself at the center of the story. He invented himself a brother, even crediting him as co-writer. The writer of the book he was entrusted to adapt engages in drug use and has an affair with her book’s subject, and Kaufman even defiles her in his own masturbatory fantasy. In short, the script is awesome. It also manages to say something very profound about the nature of creativity. –AA

38. Lost in Translation (dir. Sofia Coppola, 2003). With Lost in Translation, writer/director Coppola became the third woman – and the first American woman – to be nominated for a Best Director Academy Award®. Can you believe that? Only three women ever, to this day? Whatever, Hollywood. Of course, when you hear most people talk about this movie, what they are most interested in is the comeback of sorts it gave Bill Murray. Oh, and the shot of Scarlett Johansson’s ass in see-through panties that opens the film. Whatever, people. “Lip my stockings.” –Kelly S.

39. Little Miss Sunshine (dir. Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris, 2006). This movie makes it look easy. Just gather a group of top-notch actors (from legend Alan Arkin down to breakout kid star Abigail Breslin), put them in a crappy yellow van and throw away all sense of decorum, and you’ve got a comedy that upholds the value of family while skewering so-called “family values.” It steals shamelessly from National Lampoon’s Vacation, but to more poignant effect. –RMA

40. Hero (dir. Zhang Yimou, 2002). There are several epics on this list. Though most of the attention goes to Peter Jackson’s greatly successful Lord of the Rings trilogy, the Chinese film Hero embodies the word “epic” just as well. It contains, quite simply, some of the most stunning visuals of the last decade. The color palette is something remarkable. The fights are incredibly stylized, more like dances really, but stand as something different from the fight scenes in American movies, thanks to the incredible wire-work. –AA

41. 25th Hour (dir. Spike Lee, 2002). Perhaps Lee’s most mature film to date, 25th Hour is the director’s stunning meditation on New York City in the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks. Ostensibly the story of a drug dealer, beautifully played by Edward Norton, on his way to prison, the film allows Lee to take the pulse of his city following the tragedy. The film’s final scenes, which follow the Norton character as he’s being driven to prison, imagining what his life might have been, are among the most moving moments in recent cinema. –Ken S.

42. Let the Right One In (dir. Tomas Alfredson, 2008). The movies and TV are lousy with vampires these days. Who knew the cure for anemia would come from slumbering Sweden? But there be nightmares as a pint-sized bloodsucker, loosed in a crumbling community where family and societal ties are fraying, latches onto a new playmate. The reconstituted Hammer Films plans a remake, with Richard Jenkins ideally cast as the vampire’s adult “guardian”–but this drew first blood. –BC

43. Hellboy (dir. Guillermo del Toro, 2004). A special-effects blockbuster with heart — in fact, the greatest movie love story of the decade, no word of a lie. The twinned romantic triangles of a red-skinned demonspawn, a troubled pyrokinetic, and an insecure G-man on one side, and a crazed Nazi psychobitch, a megalomaniacal Russian mystic, and a host of Lovecraftian elder gods on the other — well, who can’t relate to that? –JF

44. Hot Fuzz (dir. Edgar Wright, 2007). Wright’s follow-up to Shaun of the Dead features Simon Pegg as a by-the-book cop who gets transferred to a seemingly quaint English village. He’s teamed with Nick Frost as a bumbling policeman who’s seen every action movie ever made. There’s also a great character turn from Timothy Dalton as a smarmy supermarket manager. One thing I really liked about this movie was that I thought it was going to end three or four different times, but they topped it every time. –TR

45. Mulholland Dr. (dir. David Lynch, 2001). In a high-wire act of adaptive filmmaking, Lynch took a rejected TV pilot and transmogrified it into a stand-alone mind-bender of a movie. It’s the story — or is it? — of a fresh-faced lass who arrives in Hollywood with dreams of becoming an actress, then plays Girl Detective to solve a mystery with a beautifully disheveled woman who has literally descended from the hills. Two-thirds of the way through, Lynch turns the whole enterprise on its head in a shift that leaves the viewer playing detective on his own, trying to piece together the film’s unforgettable snippets. The monster behind the diner, the director at the OK Corral, the sexually explosive audition that reveals the breathtaking acting skills of both our heroine and the neophyte who played her (Naomi Watts, in a career-making turn) … there are plenty more than “Sixteen Reasons” to take a return spin down Mulholland Dr.. –JC

46. Amelie (dir. Jean-Pierre Jeunet, 2001). An Immediatist manifesto disguised as a date movie. Check out this call for “Poetic Terrorism” by the author Hakim Bey in his book Chaos: The Broadsheets of Ontological Anarchism: “The audience reaction of aesthetic-shock produced by Poetic Terrorism ought to be at least as strong as the emotion of terror — powerful disgust, sexual arousal, superstitious awe, sudden intuitive breakthrough, [or] dada-esque angst … If it does not change someone’s life (aside from the artist) it fails. …. An exquisite seduction carried out not only in the cause of mutual satisfaction, but also as a conscious act in a deliberately beautiful life — may be the ultimate PT. The PTerrorist behaves like a confidence-trickster whose aim is not money but change.” Sound like anyone we know? –JF

47. Ratatouille (dir. Brad Bird, 2007). Five of Pixar’s seven releases this decade made our list, and if we extended it to 125 films I’m pretty sure Up would have made it, too. My personal favorite is the one that argues, convincingly, for the same standard of excellence that Pixar holds itself to, and defines what it is we do. In the words of Anton Ego, every critic’s hero: “In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations, the new needs friends.” –BC

48. Mean Girls (dir. Mark Waters, 2004). Let me be honest here. I saw Mean Girls because Lindsey Lohan made me jizz in my pants. Way before she was drugged out and forgot to eat, Lindsey was smokin’ hot. But the weird part was that I (and ever other dude in the theater) left astounded that we had just seen an awesome movie. The perfect casting of Lizzy Caplan and Rachel McAdams, and the brilliant writing of Tina Fey, make this a must-see. –DS

49. Requiem for a Dream (dir. Darren Aronofsky, 2000). Starring Ellen Burstyn, Jared Leto and Jennifer Connelly, Aronofsky’s film adaptation of Hubert Selby, Jr.’s 1978 novel is a terrifying, mind-bending depiction of addiction and self-destruction. I have to admit – this movie kind of traumatized me the first time I saw it. And no, it wasn’t because I watched Jordan Catalano shoot up. –Kelly S.

50. AI: Artificial Intelligence (dir. Steven Spielberg, 2001). People really quibbled with this film’s last act, calling it a betrayal of the rust-edged world Spielberg had originally established — guided as he was by material from the project’s original shepherd, Stanley Kubrick. But if folks truly thought Spielberg would allow the robot boy, played by Haley Joel Osment, to drown at the bottom of the flooded New York amusement park while searching for his adopted mother, they were only fooling themselves. Taken as it is, it’s still a riveting film about love, loss and what it really means to be a living being. –Dw.D

51. The Hurt Locker (dir. Kathryn Bigelow, 2009). My best film of this past summer looks to carry me through fall and winter, too. The great Iraq War movie zeroes in on a bomb disposal expert as he fulfills his duty, again and again. Grace under pressure has never been so tightly concentratred. –BC

52. Zodiac (dir. David Fincher, 2007). After making two of the most divisive films in the past twenty years (Se7en and Fight Club), Fincher gave us a film that not only united critics in praise, but was also his most accomplished work to date thanks to restraint in technique and his focus on the story and characters. Fincher tackles the true-life events of the Zodiac killer, who terrorized San Francisco in the 1970’s. Jake Gyllenhaal, Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey, Jr., Anthony Edwards, Elias Koteas, Brian Cox and Chloe Sevigny all give exemplary performances in this mystery/thriller that follows a cartoonist, a reporter and a police detective as they become obsessed with solving the case. Zodiac will make you think, it will make you laugh, and it will scare the hell out of you. I’m thinking of the terrorizing scene in which a young couple enjoying a picnic become the latest victims of the Zodiac. It’s broad daylight, they are in the wide open, and yet the impending doom Fincher gives that scene makes it so scary, I’m getting creeped out right now! –SM

53. Man on Wire (dir. James Marsh, 2008). Chronicling French high-wire artist Philippe Petit’s daring 1974 high-wire walk between the World Trade Center’s Twin Towers, Man on Wire is a breathtaking and moving documentary. It mixes rare footage of preparations for the walk with reenactments and present-day interviews with its organizers and participants, in a fascinating story of vision and perseverance – as well as a lovely homage to the magnificent buildings. It won the Academy Award® for Best Documentary Feature in 2009. –Kelly S.

54. You Can Count on Me (dir. Kenneth Lonergan, 2000). For some reason Laura Linney and Mark Ruffalo are not big stars. They should be. They are two of the finest actors we have today, and you need only to watch this film to see why. As orphaned brother and sister Terry and Sammy Prescott, they show the complicated nature of being siblings, especially when that sibling, a person you’re not sure you like all the time, is the only family you have left the world. First-timer Lonergan’s direction is effortless, and his script is funny, heartbreaking and full of reflective moments that will give you pause and make you appreciate life. Both Linney ad Ruffalo give subtle performances that will have you laughing and crying and wishing You Can Count On Me would not have to end. –SM

55. The 40-Year-Old Virgin (dir. Judd Apatow, 2005). The good old sex comedy may have been beaten into submission, but in the underappreciated no-sex comedy genre, The 40-Year-Old Virgin shines bright. First-time director Apatow puts the spotlight square on Steve Carrell, who pretty much takes on the joke and turns it into two hours of geeky hilariousness. Right after I saw this movie, I had to take the Asia dragon poster off my wall (sadly, I’m not kidding). –DS

56. Kung Fu Hustle (dir. Steven Chow, 2004). Director-star Chow, like Quentin Tarantino, is steeped in movies to his very bones. Kung Fu Hustle, like the Kill Bill movies, functions on one level as a mixtape, of sorts — the genre’s greatest hits, chopped, channeled, and recontextualized. But Chow kines the material for laughs as well as cheap thrills. Subtle it ain’t, but the sheer joy of filmmaking shines from every frame. –JF

57. Eastern Promises (dir. David Cronenberg, 2007). Cronenberg is still making horror movies, but here all his monsters are human. Viggo Mortensen gives a fearless performance — and turns in the decade’s strangest fight scene — in the darkest, twistiest thriller since Chinatown. –JF

58. Munich (dir. Steven Spielberg, 2005). For all his success, the knock on Spielberg has always been his need to explain every last detail. Rarely does he leave decisions up to the viewer. This made me incredibly apprehensive when first approaching Munich; my fear was that a political film from Spielberg would feel preachy and one-sided. Before I saw the movie, I did a little research. To my surprise, there seemed to be no consensus regarding the political stance of the film. Some thought it was pro-Israeli, while others thought it was too sympathetic to the Palestinians. My response was that he struck just the right balance. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict creates such polarizing opinions that it’s only plausible that people would project their own vastly differing opinions on a film like Munich. Spielberg managed to free himself from his instinctual need to explain at just the right moment. –AA

59. The Departed (dir. Martin Scorsese, 2006). There is no doubt that Martin Scorsese deserved an Academy Award. Rattle off his accomplishments and you have a list of some of the greatest movies in the modern era, yet he had never won the statue. It seemed that with Gangs of New York (2002) and The Aviator (2004), he he was trying too hard to prove he is one of the greatest filmmakers of all time and should win the Oscar. After The Aviator, Scorsese took on a remake of the Hong Kong thriller Infernal Affairs just to keep working. It is a taut, well-executed film that has visual flair, a dazzling script, expert editing by his longtime collaborator Thelma Schoonmaker, and gripping performances by one of the best fucking casts ever assembled. It’s intense and bloody, yes, but it’s also funny as hell and moves at such a fast clip your head is spinning. Without the pressure of trying to make a movie that would win him awards, Scorsese did what does make him one of the greatest directors of all time — he made an insanely well-made movie with the purpose to entertain, not to impress — and in doing so he finally won his Academy Award. –SM

60. The Queen (dir. Stephen Frears, 2006). The story of the royal family’s actions, or rather inactions, in the wake of the death of Princess Diana are the subject of this fascinating British film. The always great Helen Mirren stars as HM Queen Elizabeth II, a monarch struggling with her personal feelings about the late princess and her sense of duty as the head of the royal family. In the end, she is spurred to action by Prime Minister Tony Blair, well played by MIchael Sheen. A moving film about family, be they royal, or yours and mine. –Ken S.

61. Knocked Up (dir. Judd Apatow, 2007). Apatow remained unstoppable with this hilarious tale of beer goggles, slackerdom and even a little growing up. Seth Rogen’s stock had been growing over the years, but this is the vehicle that has made him the latest go-to comedian in Hollywood. And let’s not forget what might be Paul Rudd’s best performance to date as the bitter brother-in-law. –DS

62. Cast Away (dir. Robert Zemeckis, 2000). A pretty daring movie in the fact that most of the time it’s focused on just Chuck, the lonely soul stranded on a deserted island. You get to see pain, struggles, tragedy and triumph, and a volleyball becoming a man’s best friend. Watching Tom Hanks’ character slowly adapt to his surroundings and find a way to survive for years without human interaction was a unique experience for the viewer, and it’s doubtful it could have been pulled off so well by a lesser actor. –DS

63. The New World (dir. Terrence Malick, 2005). The visionary filmmaker Malick made two brilliant films in the ’70s, then disappeared from the scene for 20 years before returning with The Thin Red Line in 1998. The second film of Malick’s comeback, The New World is a highly stylized historical drama about the settlement of the Jamestown colony by Englishmen in the early 17th century. Colin Farrell stars as John Smith, and newcomer Q’Orianka Kilcher is Pocahontas. Once again Malick makes powerful use of interior monologues, and his films, including this one, are never less than visually stunning. –Ken S.

64. Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan (dir. Larry Charles, 2006). “Kazakhstan greatest country in the world / All other countries are run by little girls.” So sings Sacha Baron Cohen’s tact-free nitwit during a rodeo scene filmed just up the road from my Virginia hometown — a scene that, not for the first or last time during Borat, left audiences convulsing with uncomfortable yet undeniable laughter. Was it unfair to the rubes? Yeah, probably — but sometimes it requires having a pair of hairy testicles shoved in your face to show you who you really are. –JC

65. Batman Begins (dir. Christopher Nolan, 2005). The sequel flew into our Top Ten. I’m unconvinced, finding it full of standard superhero bloat. Fact is, my favorite Batman movie will always be Tim Burton’s sublimely twisted Batman Returns. But this reboot, a leaner, meaner take on the material, comes in second. That it contributed to taking the simple fun out of a genre that is now prostrate with self-importance in no way diminishes its own integrity and quality. –BC

66. Traffic (dir. Steven Soderbergh, 2000). I’ve come to lament the multi-story narrative that’s defined the decade, where everyone’s conveniently entwined with everyone else and the moral of the story is that it’s a small world after all, isn’t it? Fraudulent. But Traffic, derived from a BBC miniseries, works beautifully in capturing facets of the drug trade, and showing how the whole rotten thing, bound by addiction, avarice, and compromise, works. And Benicio Del Toro is a perfect center of gravity. –BC

67. Cache (dir. Michael Haneke, 2005). This is Haneke’s finest work, at least until we can judge this year’s Cannes darling The White Ribbon this winter. The tense, riveting Cache takes a theme familiar in French film — skewering the smug bourgeoisie — and overlays a message about the lingering perils of colonialism for both the conquered and the conqueror. Its story, of a forgotten childhood event that comes back to haunt a well-to-do TV host and his family, is shot through first with paranoia, then with tragedy. –JC

68. Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (dir. Gore Verbinski, 2003). We were going to see The League Of Extraordinary Gentlemen, but it was sold out. It was only out of a lack of options that we wound up watching a stupid Johnny Depp movie based on a Disneyland ride produced by Captain Crash himself, Jerry Bruckheimer … and wound up having a hell of a lot of fun. League Of Whazzits Now? –Dw.D

69. Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story (dir. Rawson Marshall Thurber, 2004). Vince Vaughn and Ben Stiller in a movie about an inflatable red ball being thrown into genital areas unexpectedly. Sounds like a winning premise, right? C’mon, right? Somehow, though, Vaughn leading a group of misfits in a quest to save his gym by winning a dodgeball tournament against the way-too-serious “athletes” of the corporate Globo Gym (led by Stiller) turned out to be an hour and a half of crazy tomfoolery and hilarious sight-gags. –DS

70. Monsters Inc. (dir. Pete Docter, Lee Unkrich and David Silverman, 2001). The last few years have found the folks at Pixar exploring just how much artistic leeway their popularity has given them. While the results have generated some of the most beautiful and sincere moments in recent movie memory, the plots haven’t had the same consistency as a lighter effort like Monsters, Inc. It has more of a slapstick animation style, with John Goodman and Billy Crystal well cast as Sully and Mike, two monsters who are anything but frightening in the context of their own world. Rival studios are still trying to catch up to the Monsters, Inc. style, even as Pixar has mostly moved on. I like Wall-E and Up, but Monsters, Inc. remains my favorite Pixar movie because it is so enjoyable. –AA

71. Meet the Parents (dir. Jay Roach, 2000). When Meet the Parents came out, it had been two years since Ben Stiller had done something worth viewing (There’s Something About Mary), so this was a nice surprise. Stiller excels in well-written, intelligent laugh-fests when the director can reel in the idiocy – which Roach does well. The movie works because so many people can relate to crazy, obsessive parents, even if Stiller takes Greg Focker through more bumbling maneuvers than one person could possible endure. For a good year after this release you could still hear some variation of the most memorable quote in the film: “I’ve got nipples, Greg, could you milk me?” –DS

72. Best in Show (dir. Christopher Guest, 2000). Guest’s second movie unleashes (pun intended) his repertory cast of improv wizards on the world of the pure-breed dog show. Along the way, they skewer rubes, yuppies (gay and straight), and aging trophy wives seeking fame through their animals. And just when the drama of the dog show would naturally threaten the comedy in the final third, Fred Willard turns in a hysterical performance as a clueless commentator prone to spouting lines like, “These are such beautiful animals, and to think that in some countries these dogs are eaten.” –DL

73. Downfall (dir. Bernd Eichinger, 2004). It’s sad, in a way, that this remarkable film — Germany’s first real attempt to deal with its Nazi legacy using actors in all the major roles — is already best remembered as the source of a thousand YouTube parodies. Still, the ease — and relative lack of controversy — with which Bruno Ganz’ furious breakdown has been adapted for subject matter as disparate as Hillary Clinton’s primary loss and the inadequacy of the BCS is proof of Downfall’s unique success in finding Hitler’s human, if despicable, core. –JC

74. Zombieland (dir. Ruben Fleischer, 2009). The most recent film to make this list is the best zombie comedy since Shaun of the Dead. Woody Harrelson and Jesse Eisenberg play two guys running from a mass zombie infestation, aided (but mostly abetted) by fellow runners Emma Stone and Abigail Breslin. Includes rules on how to defend yourself against the living dead, and a special big-time guest star (playing himself) in whose mansion our heroes hide out. –TR

75. Wonder Boys (dir. Curtis Hanson, 2000). Michael Douglas gives one of the best performances of his career as a stoned, aging professor trying to finish his latest book while slogging through a weekend on campus. He’s in love with his boss’s wife (Frances McDormand), pregnant with his child; he’s being hounded by his agent (a hilarious Robert Downey, Jr.), in town to get pages from the book; and he is suddenly the guardian of his best pupil, played by Tobey Maguire. Hanson, working with a fine script by Steve Kloves adapted from Michael Chabon’s wonderful novel, shot the film on location in Pittsburgh and gave it the feel of one of those long weekends in the Midwest when your life can change in two days. Douglas gives one of the best performances of his career, and Hanson shows once again that he is one of the best filmmakers working today. Literary, funny and human, Wonder Boys is like a great novel — you keep wanting to go back to it again and again. –SM

76. About a Boy (dir. Chris and Paul Weitz, 2002). After all of the romantic comedies Hugh Grant has done, it seemed risky for him to take on the role of Nick Hornby’s shallow man-boy who hatches a plan to pick up women at support groups for single moms. However, after watching the Weitz brothers’ adaptation, it’s hard to imagine anyone else playing the smug, materialistic prick who discovers his soul thanks to his friendship with a lonely boy (scene stealer Nicholas Hoult) whose mom (Toni Collette) attempts suicide. Besides Grant’s superb performance and Hoult, a young actor who goes toe to toe with
Grant, you have Collette suffering from depression and having a meltdown in a wonderfully tragic role, and the radiant Rachel Weisz as the woman Grant’s character falls in love with, a first for him. Featuring an exemplary score by Badly Drawn Boy, About A Boy will remind you why you like going to the movies: They give you hope that people can change, and that the world can be a better place when people care about one another. –SM

77. Hedwig and the Angry Inch (dir. John Cameron Mitchell, 2001). A film about a transgendered European rock singer might strike some as the ultimate examination of artifice, but this movie musical is actually a celebration of true authenticity and an angry condemnation of a world that conspires to destroy it. Fortunately, it is also frequently hilarious, kick-ass and fabulous. –RMA

78. Juno (dir. Jason Reitman, 2007). The midpoint in Reitman’s rapid ascendance to the top echelon of Hollywood directors (following Thank You for Smoking and preceding this fall’s Up in the Air), Juno makes delectable lemonade from what traditionally has been a lemon of a film topic (teen pregnancy). He keeps the quirk meter consistently cranked up to 10, with considerable help from co-stars Ellen Page and Michael Cera — and Diablo Cody’s debut script made her a cultural phenomenon. I still think it was the best film of ‘97 (sorry, Coens). –JC

79. Moulin Rouge! (dir. Baz Luhrmann, 2001). An orgy of color, sexuality, visual mayhem and musical mash-ups, Moulin Rouge! was … well, it was a Baz Luhrmann film. The Baz Luhrmann film, really — the destination toward which Strictly Ballroom and Romeo + Juliet, its predecessors in what is now known as the “Red Curtain trilogy,” were headed. Its score, a menagerie of well-worn pop songs, grated some as much as it delighted others — but still helped earn the first Best Picture nomination for a musical in two decades. Luhrmann himself was robbed, however, foreshadowing the film’s loss to the vastly inferior A Beautiful Mind. –JC

80. X-Men (dir. Bryan Singer, 2000). X-Men is the rare 21st-century comic book movie that’s exempt from the critique offered by 1999’s Mystery Men — a droll skewering of the genre that would have had real bite if it hadn’t been released 10 years too early. Unlike so many of its parody-worthy counterparts, X-Men is a short, sharp delight that introduced a memorable batch of franchise-ready characters, had knockout setpieces, scored a few sociopolitical points, and was off in 104 minutes. Genius. –BC

81. 28 Days Later (dir. Danny Boyle, 2002). The movie that kicked off the current zombie craze, this insanely well-made, low-budget scare flick is actually two films in one. The first is a lean, mean update of your garden-variety undead story, where the corpses aren’t just hungry, they’re angry. The second is a wickedly funny-scary (and prescient) satire of how a society’s response to crisis can be more terrifying than the crisis itself. –RMA

82. Waitress (dir. Adrienne Shelly, 2007). They don’t make movies much sweeter than Shelly’s comedy about Jenna, a pie-making waitress with an abusive husband, an unwanted pregnancy, and an obstetrician who just might be Mr. Right. Keri Russell has never been better, Nathan Fillion proves he’d make a great rom-com hero, and even Andy Griffith settles gracefully into his role as the curmudgeonly diner owner who helps Jenna’s dreams come true. –JC

83. Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (dir. Shane Black, 2005). After witnessing the incredible chemistry between Robert Downey, Jr. and Val Kilmer in this movie, one has to wonder why these two never worked together before, particularly during the 1980s when they were in their prime. OK, well, maybe Kilmer was in his prime; RDJ’s star has only gotten brighter since this movie, while Val’s has, well, given us the voice of K.I.T.T. in the Knight Rider reboot. The directorial debut from Lethal Weapon and Monster Squad screenwriter Black, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang is full of witty dialogue (also written by Black) and some great action scenes. But it’s really Kilmer and Downey, Jr. that make this movie so special. –Kelly S.

84. Inglourious Basterds (dir. Quentin Tarantino, 2009). Inglourious Basterds barely has anything to do with its namesake (an Italian war film from 1978). The Basterds in question mainly serve as a resolution. We never get to know many of them all that well, and several other characters play much more important emotional roles. The movie is Tarantino’s love note to cinema. There are so many little touches thrown in for the cinephile to notice. The true star of Tarantino’s work is usually what he’s referencing, rather than the actors who fill the screen. In the case of Inglourious Basterds, these stars are Leni Riefenstahl and Sergio Leone, and even The Wizard of Oz. It’s an exciting mix of intergenerational talent that only Tarantino’s bizarre mind could concoct. –AA

85. Gladiator (dir. Ridley Scott, 2000). Digital effects are often used — and overused — to take us into new worlds. Gladiator captivated audiences by taking us into an ancient one that hadn’t been envisioned in some time, and rarely on such scale. Its story takes off from one of the last, 1964’s Fall of the Roman Empire, whose sprawling built environment no one dared replicate again. It was thrilling to revisit Rome, in the company of a strong, stoic Russell Crowe. Sometimes they do make them like they used to. –BC

86. Punch-Drunk Love (dir. Paul Thomas Anderson, 2002). It’s actually a stroke of brilliance. Punch-Drunk Love is exactly like all of Adam Sandler’s previous films. It has a hapless loser crippled by a society that sees him as a target, who suddenly and awkwardly finds love. What Anderson does next is strip out the slapstick, the mugging, the goofy voices that announce “that was a joke,” and makes it all work in strange, elegant fashion. –Dw.D

87. Chicken Run (dir. Nick Park, 2000). A movie reminiscent of The Great Escape, using clay-animated poultry. You’d think it couldn’t be done, until you realize Park and his cronies from the Wallace and Gromit shorts are involved. A great vocal performance by Mel Gibson, back when he wasn’t embarrassing himself in the news. –TR

88. Big Fish(dir. Tim Burton, 2003). Based on the Daniel Wallace book of the same name, Big Fish tells the story of a son (Billy Crudup) trying to unravel the tall tales and stories his father (Albert Finney) has spun over the years. Burton brings the father’s extraordinary past to life, with the young Edward Bloom (Ewan McGregor, ditching his itchy Jedi robes) exploring familiar Burton territory – dark and spooky woods, the circus, and pastel-hued Americana – alongside witches, giants, and a lycanthropic Circus boss (Danny DeVito). As Crudup eventually learns the truth behind ths tales, he comes to a new understanding his father and the value of the storyteller role that all fathers must play. –Ben Wiser

89. Gosford Park (dir. Robert Altman, 2001). Nobody does ensemble films with intersecting storylines better than the late, great Altman. Gosford Park is a charming murder mystery set in 1932 England, starring a bevy of wonderful British and American actors including Clive Owen, Kristen Scott Thomas, Jeremy Northam, Bob Balaban, Ryan Phillipe, Helen Mirren and Maggie Smith (the latter two were both nominated for the Best Supporting Actress Academy Award® for their performances). From a story idea of Altman and Balaban’s, screenwriter Julian Fellowes wrote a fantastic script full of sharp, witty dialogue that won him the Academy Award® as well. –Kelly S.

90. The Bourne Identity (dir. Doug Liman, 2002). No one expected a hokey Robert Ludlum thriller (filmed earlier for TV with Richard Chamberlain and Jaclyn Smith, for God’s sake) to yield one of the decade’s bulletproof franchises, and seal Matt Damon’s stardom. With their rapid-fire editing, the sequels had more influence on genre filmmaking, but this one sneaked up on me as stealthily as a covert assassin. –BC

91. Superbad (dir. Greg Mottola, 2007). Apparently, I seem to like Apatow. This time he’s just the producer and working with a script that Seth Rogen co-wrote, but it’s still the same gross-out yet intelligent humor of The 40 Year Old Virgin and Knocked Up. It was about time for Jonah Hill to get his chance to shine in a well-written lead role, and his rude and crude style is balanced out nicely by the big-screen breakthrough of Michael Cera and the nerdiness of McLovin. –DS

92. Zack and Miri Make a Porno (dir. Kevin Smith, 2008). My fellow writers and, well, the majority of the world don’t agree, but for me Zack and Miri Make a Porno is the best movie of the decade. A date movie that should never be shown on a date, this is Smith at his crudest and rudest. He shocked the world in 1994 with legendary filth in Clerks, but almost certainly surpasses that with Zack and Miri. Sure, you could say it’s just a mess of clichéd jokes about penises and vajayjay’s, but what do you expect out of Smith and Seth Rogen? –DS

93. Lost Skeleton of Cadavra (dir. Larry Blamire, 2004). This isn’t the first time I’ve championed this film (see the Love Post back in February). If you like oddball parodies in the Airplane mold, do yourself a favor: Put this one in your Netflix queue. Better yet, buy a copy. Not only is this a hilarious takeoff of exposition-heavy sci-fi movies of the fifties, but it’s even more fun to watch other people watching it. Trust me on this one, and you do like it, feel free to thank me. –TR

94. Night at the Museum (dir. Shawn Levy, 2006). Critics ragged on this CGI-filled romp through a history museum, but families came out in droves to see a light-hearted, action-packed, kid-approved flick. The kiddies learned that when people go to bed, statues come to life, and adults learned that when statues come to life, kids stay happy. It’s a win-win scenario with enough laughs to have you smiling at the end. –DS

95. Letters from Iwo Jima. (dir. Clint Eastwood, 2006). World War II movies always have an appeal to the general public because there are so many fascinating stories to be gleaned. In an ambiguous world, the Second World War stands as one of the only conflicts that can truly feel morally black and white. Yet Eastwood’s Letters from Iwo Jima shows the side that hasn’t had a voice. It never talks down to the viewer or asks for sympathy. It merely reminds audiences that, yes, our enemy is human, loves its family, and suffers the same hardships of war. –AA

96. Yi Yi: A One and a Two (dir. Edward Yang, 2000). The Taiwanese filmmaker Yang won the best director prize at the Cannes Film Festival for his gem-like examination of a family in crisis, with a wedding, a funeral, and the ups and downs in between all lovingly, empathetically observed over the course of three hours. By all means rent the Criterion DVD. Yang’s direction of the children is especially keen. Sadly, it proved to be his last feature; he died in 2007, after a long bout with cancer. –BC

97. King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters (dir. Seth Gordon, 2007). It began production as an innocent look at the world of old-school video game junkies. During filming they stumbled upon one of the all-time great underdog stories, as unemployed school teacher Steve Wiebe challenged video game golden boy Billy Mitchell for the world record at Donkey Kong. The underhanded political dealings that ensue would make Shakespeare blush, while Mitchell goes down as one of the greatest villains in movie history. –DM

98. Once (dir. John Carney, 2007). From ridiculously humble beginnings — no stars, a skeleton script and $160,000 — came the unrequited-love story of the decade and one of the sweetest moments in Oscar history. Writer-director Carney, a former bandmate of his male protagonist (Frames lead singer Glen Hansard), shot Once in friends’ houses and (without permits) on the Dublin streets, using a long lens and natural light. The result was captivating, an intimate portrait of a not-quite romance between a “Broken Hearted Hoover Fixer Sucker Guy” and a Czech immigrant who, despite falling slowly in love, cannot forsake their prior commitments. Thank goodness for Jon Stewart, who brought Marketa Irglova back onstage so she could have her well-deserved moment in the sun. –JC

99. Napoleon Dynamite (dir. Jared Hess, 2004). A full-on celebration of randomness wrapped in a teen self-discovery movie, this screamingly funny comedy sold a million “Vote for Pedro” t-shirts and taught America that llamas eat ham. John Hughes’ midwestern “outcasts” have nothing on Napoleon, a kid who carries Tater Tots in a fanny pack. What makes this film more than just a laff riot is the surprisingly affecting dance sequence (to Jamiroquai’s “Canned Heat”) in which our hero’s vulnerability and innate human dignity are laid bare. –RMA

100. Dogville (dir. Lars von Trier, 2003). Part artist, part poseur, von Trier has a gift for winning over the pseudointellectual press. (Expect to see his god-awful “musical,” Dancer in the Dark, on many best-of-decade lists.) But sometimes he overcomes his most fraudulent impulses and connects–The Kingdom, Zentropa, and a movie that narrowly avoided the doghouse of being No. 101 are all worth investigating. A Brechtian takedown of the American dream, with the actors performing on chalk-outlined “sets” and pantomiming simple actions (like opening doors) to get from location to location, it’s three hours long and utterly captivating– even if he blows his cool with the closing credits. (Typical!) The sequel, Manderlay, was another head-scratching disaster that even the pseuds yawned at. But take a bow, Lars, for giving Nicole Kidman that rare role in an art-house production that does as much for her as she does for it–and for earning a place on our list. –BC

And here we have our third — and final — course of the Soundtrack Saturday Dysfunctional Family Thanksgiving. I decided to end our celebration of family, food, and fighting on a lighter note, so I give you one of my favorite movies of all time, Home for the Holidays (1995). I first saw it during my freshman year of college on the recommendation of a good friend who knew I had a thing for Robert Downey Jr. I absolutely loved it.

After acquiring it on videocassette, I started a tradition of watching it at least three times a week every holiday season starting on November 1, a tradition that has, for the most part, continued to this day (though I now watch it on DVD instead of cassette).

Watching a movie that much may seem excessive, but there was a period in my life when I was so stressed out during this time of the year — I was working in retail — that watching Home for the Holidays was like celluloid comfort food. I would watch it when I came home from work, before I went to bed, before I went to work — basically, whenever I needed calming down. I’d even say that watching this movie as much as I did during the most heinous time of the year for retail managers kept me from becoming an alcoholic.

The second film directed by Jodie Foster (1991’s Little Man Tate), Home for the Holidays introduces us to the eccentric Larson family and lets us peek into their dysfunctional lives during one hectic Thanksgiving.

First, we meet Claudia Larson (Holly Hunter). She’s just lost her job as an art restorer in a Chicago museum — and made out with her much older boss as he was firing her. Now she has to fly to Baltimore to spend Thanksgiving with her family, but without her teenage daughter (Claire Danes), who’s just told her mother that she and her boyfriend plan to have sex for the first time over the holiday weekend. To add insult to injury, Claudia is sick.

Upon her arrival at the Baltimore airport, we get our first glimpse of her parents, Henry (Charles Durning) and Adele (Anne Bancroft). We instantly feel Claudia’s pain as she endures her mother’s nagging, her father’s cluelessness — and both of her parents’ bickering — as soon as she gets off the plane.

Next, we meet Claudia’s hilarious — but at times annoyingly over-the-top — gay younger brother, Tommy (Robert Downey Jr.), and his friend/coworker, Leo Fish (Dylan McDermott), whom he’s brought with him to share in the craziness that is the Larson Family Thanksgiving. Of course, Claudia thinks Leo is “with” Tommy, which bothers her a great deal since she’s very taken with the man she thought Tommy was in a committed relationship with.

Then we meet Adele’s eccentric younger sister, Aunt Glady (Geraldine Chaplin), who has more than 200 plants in her house and a “really big boil,” wears a necklace made of Fruit Loops, makes key lime pie topped with M&Ms, and has been harboring a secret love for Henry for more than 40 years.

Finally, we’re introduced to the “wonderful Wedmans”: Claudia and Tommy’s sister, Joanne (Cynthia Stevenson); her husband, Walter (Steve Guttenberg); and their two children, Brittany (Emily Ann Lloyd) and Walter Jr. (Zack Duhame). Joanne is the only Larson sibling who’s stayed behind in Baltimore, and she’s very bitter about it. She’s the most conservative of the bunch and the one who’s the least accepting of her siblings’ life choices — and she has no problem saying so.

The entire day is filled with fighting, crying, laughing, secrets, and turkeys flying through the air. Just like your Thanksgiving, right? As ridiculous as the Larsons and their antics may seem, I think they are, in many ways, representative of the typical family. And the issues they’re dealing with are the same issues we all deal with — acceptance, living up to expectations, aging, letting go.

On the DVD commentary, Foster says that she thinks Home for the Holidays resonates most with people who are 25-35, because the themes and issues the film deals with are most relevant to that age group. As a woman smack in the middle of that demographic, I tend to agree with her. Every year I find myself relating more and more to Claudia — not her specific situation, mind you, but the general familial challenges she faces in the film.

I could seriously go on and on about this movie. It’s my favorite of all the dysfunctional family-themed movies I love so much. From the incredible performances to the wonderful dialogue to Foster’s fantastic direction — there’s just so much to love.

And that brings us to the Home for the Holidays soundtrack, which is — of course — out of print. From opening credits to closing credits, every song and its placement in the film is well thought out and works perfectly.

We open with Rusted Root’s cover of Santana’s “Evil Ways,” which Foster says is meant to represent Claudia’s feelings toward her family: “Hey, if you don’t change your ways, I’m not going to love you anymore.” And we end with Big Brother & the Holding Company’s “Piece of My Heart,” which is meant to signify Claudia changing her mind about her family, because no matter how much they put her through, she’ll always love them.

In between, we’ve got an assortment of tracks as eclectic as the Larsons themselves, but what really holds Home for the Holidays together is Mark Isham’s lovely score. It parallels the film’s tone so well: serious, but lighthearted and funny as well. Foster likens it to a “Dixieland dirge” — music you would hear as people march up the street in a Dixieland funeral procession. I can’t think of a better description than that.

I hope you’ve enjoyed the three courses of  Soundtrack Saturday: Dysfunctional Family Thanksgiving as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them. I’m taking next week off to celebrate my own family’s (somewhat) dysfunctional holiday, but I’ll be back December 5. I hope you have a happy Thanksgiving, or at least a drunken one. And if you don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, go get drunk anyway.

Rusted Root – Evil Ways
Frank Sinatra – That’s Life
Nat “King” Cole – Candy
Tom Jones – It’s Not Unusual
Isaac Hayes – Theme From Shaft
The Trashmen – Surfin’ Bird
Dinah Washington – Trouble in Mind
Beastie Boys – Pow
Nat “King” Cole – The Very Thought of You
Big Brother & the Holding Company – Piece of My Heart

Original score by Mark Isham:
Holiday Blues
Blue Nights
Birth of the Cool Whip
The Late Night Blues
Medley: The Very Thought of You/With Us, Alone
The Very Thought of You

Much (though by no means all) of the stuff I talk about in this column comes to me free for review, often well in advance of the street release date. That means there are a lot of unfamiliar CDs and books and DVDs scattered around my workplace; it also means we get a lot of mail.

My kids thought that part was pretty exciting, when I first took the gig — until they got a load of the actual contents of most of those packages. “Hey, guys, who wants to watch this Rob Thomas DVD with Dad?” is kind of a non-starter, when weighing the options for a rainy Thursday afternoon.

Every now and then, though, a hit finds its way into our house. I got my advance copy of the lavish annual photo-book put out by the Ripley’s people (this year’s edition is subtitled Seeing Is Believing) literally months ago, and I’m only writing about it now — because it’s been the exclusive property of my seven-year old since its arrival.

In fact, he wrote his review before I did:

The main idea of this book is basically about gathering up ramdom facts and try to shock you with unbelivable sights. (note: seeing is beliveing) My favorite part is when a bus jumped over 15 motorcycles while on fire in reverseal to Knievel’s stunts!

He’s not wrong, you know. Oddity for oddity’s sake has been the Ripley brand for well on 90 years now. Though it’s been through many incarnations — a radio show, a newsreel feature, a museum franchise, and no fewer than three television series — “Believe It or Not!” began as a newspaper comic. Robert L. Ripley’s little daily panel was (and, in the hands of current artist John Graziano, remains) a masterpiece of concision, depicting strange and unusual people and events in a single striking image and a few well-chosen words.

Ripley himself was an unholy admixture of P.T. Barnum and that guy that does “News of the Weird,” with the draftsmanship of a Hal Foster thrown into the bargain. He remains a curiously underrated artist, even among comics historians — perhaps because of his extensive use of photo reference, perhaps because he increasingly handed off the art chores to assistants and ghosts as he grew more famous, or perhaps because he worked exclusively in his own singular form.

Whatever the reason, even the book series that still bears his name downplays that aspect of his life. You won’t find any of Ripley’s cartoons in Seeing Is Believing’s 240+ pages — which is why Sam and I had to draw our own — but what you will find are hundreds of color photos of crazy athletic feats, human oddities, outsider art, uncanny coincidences, cultural footnotes, and other credulity-straining phenomena, all rendered in that classic, breathless tone:

STRANGE FAMILY! The elephant shrews, or sengi, are a family of tiny, insect-eating African mammals that are more closely related to elephants than to shrews.

CAMEL GIRL! Ella Harper of Hendersonville, Tennessee, appeared in shows as “The Camel Girl” because her knees turned backward. Owing to this deformity, she struggled to walk solely on her feet and preferred to move around on all fours.

OLD SPRUCE! A spruce tree in Sweden has been sprouting new trees for nearly 10,000 years. Scientists think the tree took root in Dalmatia around the year 7542 B.C.

Selected items have a longer feature-style article attached, but for the most part the book reads just like this — like a Twitter feed from some slightly-more-wonderful world just alongside our own.

I’m not surprised that Sam glommed onto this book; the seven-year old version of myself would have devoured it, too. There’s something irresistible about this sort of miscellany. Leafing through such a book gives some of the same thrill of random discovery that you get when you’re surfing Wikipedia, looking for nothing in particular. When I was a kid I would pore over the Guinness Book of World Records, and I still get a little thrill every autumn when the new edition of the Old Farmer’s Almanac hits the shelves. John Hodgman lovingly skewered the format in The Areas of My Expertise, and captured the tone of facts and figures shading into anecdote, conveyed with the same earnestness. He ramps up the absurdity quotient — in Hodgman’s almanac, charts of the moon’s phases cross-reference not only the tides but the stages of werewolfism, and a survey of beard styles sits side-by-side with exposé of America’s secret hobo empire — but the essence of it, the free-floating oddities, shorn of context, adding up to singular worldview, comes straight from the models.

The Ripley books, like their spiritual descendants (and icons of my childhood) the People’s Almanac and the Book of Lists, are of dubious value as references; they’re thinly-sourced, and serve to perpetuate apocrypha and give new life to discredited old stories. The world of these books is full of mystery and wonder — just like the real world, of course, but in the crush of the mundane it’s easy to forget that. Seeing Is Believing’s emphasis on the weird and sensational is, in a way, a comfort; the message is that there is more to life than your workaday existence, that there is beauty and surprise all around you, if you look.

There’s a great repeated line in Warren Ellis’s recently-completed comics series Planetary, a line spoken by a “mystery archeologist,” an old-school globe-trotting adventurer who publishes his discoveries in a set of esoteric guidebooks — a figure not unlike the talented Mr. Ripley himself, now I come to think of it. “It’s a strange world,” he says; “Let’s keep it that way.” Exactly.

Seeing Is Believing is a wonderful stimulant for the mind, a snack tray for the imagination, a perfect vehicle for spending an evening around the kitchen table with paper and crayons in hand. Bottom line: if you have, are, or ever have been a child, this book should be somewhere within easy reach of your toilet.

Okay, so now that I’ve stopped Brian’s team of blood-thirsty lawyers in their tracks (kidding!), we can take a look at this week’s chart. And I don’t mean to cast a cloud over this Top 10, but I’m not thrilled with most of these songs. Although three of them did hit #1 (one of them is actually the #1 hit of 1977), five of them didn’t make the Top 100 of either 1976 or 1977 at all. And as you’ll see, the songs that actually did hit #1 aren’t that great either. Things were better earlier in 1976 and later in 1977, but this specific week is, in my opinion, a low point. Do you agree? Let me know — and let’s attack November 20, 1976!

10. Do You Feel Like We Do — Peter Frampton
9. Beth — Kiss
8. Just to Be Close to You — Commodores
7. Rock’n Me — Steve Miller
6. The Rubberband Man — Spinners
5. Disco Duck (Part 1) — Rick Dees
4. Muskrat Love — Captain & Tennille
3. Love So Right — Bee Gees
2. The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald — Gordon Lightfoot
1. Tonight’s the Night (Gonna Be Alright) — Rod Stewart

10. Do You Feel Like We Do — Peter Frampton

One day, if I’m lucky enough to have kids as geeky as I am (seems kind of inevitable), I’ll sit them down and tell them about the improbability of this song’s success. Sure, I’ll have to explain terms like “double album,” “record label” and “radio,” but I think it’ll be worth it. I’ll explain to them how Peter Frampton managed to remain on a major record label, A&M, despite the fact that his first three albums (as well as his first eight singles) didn’t even crack the Hot 100 (”what’s the Hot 100, daddy?”) and his fourth album peaked at #32. And that despite these failures, A&M decided that his next release should be a live album — and when he turned in the live album, the head of the record label (Jerry Moss) complained that it was too short (!) and should be a double album (!!). And so Frampton — who had recorded most of the album at the Winterland Ballroom in San Francisco, went to record more tracks live at SUNY Plattsburgh, better known as the least sexy of all the NY State-owned colleges. (I know. My dad went there.) “Do You Feel Like We Do” was one of the tracks recorded on the college campus. Unedited, it clocks in at 14:15. And children, guess what? “Radio stations,” as they were known back then, actually played the full, unedited version of the song! “Disc jockeys,” who were the people who actually had some control over what songs were played on the radio, used the song as an excuse to go to the bathroom or do other things that I’ll tell you about when you’re older. A&M understood that some stations might not want to play a 14-minute song, though, so they reasonably edited the song…to 7:19. 7:19 was considered reasonable, children!

At this point, my kids will probably be asleep from boredom, and that’ll be a shame, because I haven’t even explained to them why the unedited version of this song became so successful. Two words: TALKBOX SOLO. And here’s what I want to know, people: why do I have to wait SEVEN MINUTES AND 25 SECONDS for the talkbox solo? There should have been one in the beginning, in the middle, and then another one at the end. No, wait: the end one should be a false ending, and then there’d be another one after that one. There. That’s your perfect song. And I know the audience would have agreed, because you can hear how loud they cheer when he starts using the damn thing. You can’t deny the power of the talkbox. The talkbox is so powerful that the audience forgets the fact that anybody using one looks like a total douche.

“durrrrrrrrrrr!”

Frampton does a talkbox solo for four full minutes, making “Do You Feel Like We Do” not only our CHART ATTACK! Song of the Week, but perhaps The Greatest Song of All Time, Excluding “What a Fool Believes.”

9. Beth — Kiss

I was looking through the comment section at Songfacts to see what people thought of this song. Here’s my favorite comment, by Frank from Brampton, Ontario.

This is a really sad song and I cry alot whenever I listen to it. Call me a wuss if you want but it is indeed a sad song despite it being a powerful ballad. Hey it’s ok to cry whenever you hear a sad song like this.

Word, Frank. Word.

And so here we have Kiss’s highest-charting single, peaking at #7. Of course, there was only one way Kiss could reach this peak on the charts, and that was by ensuring that all members of the band kept their damn hands off their instruments. Though written by Kiss drummer (and this song’s lead vocalist) Peter Criss, the piano and string arrangements were performed by other (real) musicians. Criss was the only member of the band in the studio when it was recorded, and in concert, he performed it to a backing track. The rest of the band didn’t learn the song until almost 20 years later, despite it being their biggest hit of their career. I think this proves how much Gene Simmons and Paul Stanley hated the song (they fought to keep it off the album), and not being a Kiss fan, this is the only thing about “Beth” that makes me happy. (Although I should say that I know Paul Stanley’s mother, and she’s a sweetheart.) Actually, “Beth” isn’t really a bad song at all; the piano and strings are quite pretty, and I like the last verse, where he says “Beth, I know you’re lonely / And I hope you’ll be all right / ‘Cause me and the boys will be playing all night.” I love that in this beautiful song, he just kind of gives her the middle finger at the end: I know you’re lonely, Beth…sucks to be you!

8. Just to Be Close to You — Commodores (download)

I find this song unintentionally funny for a number of reasons. If you’re not familiar with it, download and we can discuss it together. For starters, there’s this beautiful, gentle piano opening. The first time I heard it, I was expecting a song that was soft and subtle, like “Fee Tines a Mady” “Three Times a Lady.” The entrance of the vocals are, shall we say, a bit more abrupt — I nearly jumped out of my chair when they came in. Second, the song has some space-agey synths playing random notes for seemingly no reason — like it’s a love song on Jupiter or something. Then, after less than a minute, Lionel starts speaking. Oh, this is the best part. Listen to that first “Ahh!” at about :55. I don’t know who Lionel’s trying to be, but he’s doing a terrible job at it. At 1:23, I think he’s trying to be a preacher. I love the way he pronounces the word “value.” I snicker every time I hear it.

I think what’s most clear about this song is that Lionel Richie had simply not yet mastered his songwriting-fu; the damn thing is all over the place. Sure, the hook of the song is great, and maybe that’s all they needed: something to which people could get their groove on. Who cares about the rest, right? The only thing that really had any staying power was that first line at the beginning: “You know, I’ve been through so many changes in my life, girl.” Lionel recycled it seven years later for his solo hit “My Love,” except he changed “girl” to “woman.” (Y’know, because he was older.)

I looked all over to find you a clip of Lionel singing this song live in the ’70s; I’m disappointed that I came up short, because you know there’d be nothing more wonderful than Lionel in one of those silver glittery Commodore suits, speak-singing this song while his afro collided with the other members of the group. However, I did find this recent version, from a small concert Lionel did for industry people. He performs the song with just the right amount of tongue in cheek, proving once again that Lionel Richie is super, super awesome. Please do a concert in New York again, Lionel. I need to be there.

7. Rock’n Me — Steve Miller

I know I’ve complained about this before, but man, fewer artists get me angry the way Steve Miller gets me angry. (Maybe Andy Gibb.) His success actually gets me furious. Yes, yes, the man writes a killer hook, but his lyrics are some of the most moronic lyrics I’ve ever read. “Rock’n Me” is a great example; strong chorus, but dumb-as-shit lyrics, and actually, some awful singing, too. Arrgh, where do I even start?

Well I’ve been lookin’ real hard
And I’m tryin’ to find a job
But it just keeps gettin’ tougher every day
But I got to do my part cause I know in my heart
I got to please my sweet baby, yeah

Okay. Not an awful start. I mean, you can’t rhyme either “baby” or “yeah” with “day,” but whatever. So this song is about him trying to find work to make his woman happy. I’m with him so far.

Well, I ain’t superstitious
And I don’t get suspicious
But my woman is a friend of mine
And I know that it’s true that all the things that I do
Will come back to me in my sweet time

WHAT THE HELL DOES THIS MEAN.

I went from Phoenix, Arizona
All the way to Tacoma
Philadelphia, Atlanta, L.A.
Northern California where the girls are warm
So I could be with my sweet baby, yeah

I DON’T KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS EITHER. Unless this is just Miller figuring he can guarantee either radio play or a concert audience in any of these locations. God, to think that this song might have inspired “The Heart of Rock & Roll” makes me shudder.

…and that’s pretty much it for lyrics. I am so freakin’ angry right now. This song makes no sense at all. It’s not as dumb as “Take the Money and Run,” but it’s up there. We made Steve Miller a star. Why did we do it? Why? I think I need to lie down. I hate you, Steve Miller. And you too, Andy Gibb.

6. The Rubberband Man — Spinners

Just when I thought this chart was hopeless, the Spinners come to rescue me. “The Rubberband Man” is a great soul song, and it would have won Song of the Week if it had only featured five minutes of talkbox. Instead, it features zero minutes of talkbox, so I award it no points and may God have mercy on its soul. Still, it deserves mention as one of the few good songs to rise out of the crud of this week.

Despite having formed in 1954 with a debut on the Hot 100 in 1961, the Spinners didn’t have their first Top 10 hit until 1970’s wonderful “Ill Be Around,” which hit #3. Another four of their songs reached the Top 10 before “The Rubberband Man” peaked at #2; it would be the group’s last Top 10 until their popular medleys of 1980.

There’s a great clip on YouTube of the Spinners performing “The Rubberband Man” on The Midnight Special, but I had to leave it off this week’s post in favor of Lynda Carter performing it on The Muppet Show. I’m sure you understand.

5. Disco Duck (Part 1) — Rick Dees

You know, given the fact that I’m somewhat known for my fondness of bad music (see Earmageddon or Mellowmas), I’ll admit to you that I’ve been able to fully avoid “Disco Duck” until this week. So while that’s a really awesome thing for me, it means that I can’t really reflect properly on how this song invaded popular culture enough to become a #1 hit. Rather than just blatantly curse out everybody in 1976 who bought this record, I figured I’d ask fellow Popdose staffer (and one of my favorite writers) Jon Cummings to weigh in on “Disco Duck” and its popularity. But be warned, everybody: this writing is not what we’re used to reading on CHART ATTACK!: it’s really, really good. Jon?

*******
Thanks, Jason. You’re right about one thing: No one can explain, much less justify, the popularity of “Disco Duck.” But let’s give it a shot anyway, shall we?

Like any good sociological phenomenon, disco didn’t emerge full-blown out of nowhere. By the summer of ‘76, even as the music had begun to dominate pop radio, the flamboyant dance-club subculture behind disco hadn’t yet expanded beyond its base in the major urban centers and entered the mainstream. The sexuality — and the sometimes covert, sometimes overt homosexuality — intrinsic to the music was unfamiliar to, and no doubt uncomfortable for, many listeners during disco’s early stages. And when the less cutting-edge elements of society encounter a new and discomfiting cultural presence, it’s not unusual for them to dismiss or ridicule that presence — or, if they choose to embrace it, to make it more compatible with their conventional worldview via imitation (see Pat Boone), comment (see “Play That Funky Music,” a #1 hit two months before this chart was released), or parody. This may explain why a radio DJ from a Southern city was able to achieve nationwide success with a single that recontextualized disco’s throbbing rhythms and pulsating sexuality with help from a universally beloved cartoon voice.

Or maybe that’s all a bunch of crap, and what really happened was that a Memphis DJ/stand-up comic encountered a goofball at the gym who could do a good Donald Duck voice, and decided it would be funny to make a novelty record that capitalized on the disco craze. And the American people, whose taste in comedy should never be overestimated, sent “Disco Duck” to #1 in mid-October. My favorite part of the “Disco Duck” story is the fact that radio listeners in Memphis couldn’t hear it: Competing stations wouldn’t play it because they were loath to give Rick Dees any publicity, and his own station’s owners thought it would be a conflict of interest to give it any spins. Dees got fired just for mentioning the song on the air! He quickly got hired somewhere else, of course — and though he lost his most recent daily on-air gig this past spring, his “Weekly Top 40″ is still going in syndication. And “Disco Duck,” though we never hear it anymore, lives in infamy — and in the #3 slot on my list of the Worst #1 Songs of the ’70s.

Back to you, Jason.
*******

Thanks, Jon! You should know that every morning, I wake up and curse your writing skills. Here’s Rick Dees on The Midnight Special performing his beloved hit.

4. Muskrat Love — Captain & Tennille

Wonderful. So right after our song about the disco duck, we have a track that answers the age-old question, “What Casio synth pad accurately replicates the sounds of muskrats fucking?” I wonder how many music fans killed themselves over Thanksgiving in 1976.

Honestly, I thought I knew this song, but when I took a listen this week, I found that I had never actually heard it before (both this and “Disco Duck” — how did I get so lucky?). I keep trying to figure out what this song is really trying to say in its subtext — but no, I’m pretty sure it’s actually about two muskrats courting. I know I said this a few songs ago, but WHY? Why did we need a song about two muskrats on a date? And even more importantly, why were Captain & Tennille the third artists to record the song? Originally titled “Mukstrat Candlelight” — and let’s just pause a second to think about the meeting where the artistic merits of this title were debated — the song was written and recorded by Willis Alan Ramsey in 1972, then covered by America in 1973 and C&T in 1976. The America version peaked at #67, but C&T made it all the way here to #4. Why? It must have been those adorable little synthesizers! Thank you, Daryl Dragon! And I’m sure there are many record buyers who thank you for including those sounds in the run-off groove on the 45, so they’d repeat themselves until someone took the record off the turntable (and subsequently threw it — and themselves — out the window).

But I don’t know. Part of me is also perversely pleased that a song about the copulation of muskrats managed to become a popular hit. Also, I have to give Toni Tennille credit for the huge grin she plasters on her face whenever she sings this song. I imagine, after 33 years, one probably no longer has a burning desire to sing about muskrats doing the nasty.

I found a few video clips of “Muskrat Love,” but this one seems to be the most disturbing. Enjoy. Or don’t.

3. Love So Right — Bee Gees (download)

I’m almost positive a memo was issued in the fall of 1976. It went to all popular artists, and it said, “Just take it easy this season. Don’t work too hard. Only give us mediocre songs. We’ll call on you for the good stuff in 1977.” Because if you look at 1975, you’ll see awesome Bee Gees songs like “Jive Talkin’” and “Nights on Broadway,” and of course, 1977 gave us the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack. Summer of ‘76 even gave us “You Should Be Dancing.” But fall of 1976? This dreck. I am aware some people really like this song. I am not one of them. According to Andy Brennan’s always-phenomenal Gibb Songs website (which I could read all day), it was right around this time that Barry began to really explore this new range of his voice:

Barry had developed his falsetto to an incredible degree. [Previously] it was still breathy and tentative. Now it was loud and clear, a very expressive instrument that he began to prefer to his natural voice…‘["Love So Right"] is a more traditional kind of Bee Gees song that could easily have been done the old way had Barry been inclined to do so. The falsetto makes it sound more new and different than it is. The question of how much falsetto is enough has caused much friendly argument among fans.

I’m so glad Andy brought this up: IT’S TOO MUCH FALSETTO. And I’m not going to be friendly about it, Andy! Christ! It’s ridiculous how much high-pitched caterwauling ensues during the final minute of the song! Tune in above at around 3:00. There are actually dueling Barry Gibbs, each going falsetto-batshit all over this thing. Look, most of the Bee Gees songs we know and love wouldn’t be as wonderful as they are without Barry’s high notes. But there’s actually a line, and he crosses it here. And sadly, I don’t think I can blame Andy for it.

2. The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald — Gordon Lightfoot

It does seem a little odd that a song such as this would reach #2, considering that it’s depressing as all hell, it has no chorus and no bridge, and it’s surrounded by crap like “Disco Duck” and “Muskrat Love.” But clearly it struck a chord with the public, arriving on the charts close to a year after the S.S. Fitzgerald sank in Lake Superior, killing the 29 crew members aboard. Lightfoot had read about the event in the November 24, 1975 issue of Newsweek, and was inspired to write a song recounting the event. He took some liberties with the subject matter, or at least that’s what I’m told — I know it makes me a horrible person, but I just can’t pay attention to more than two verses of this song. As always, I hear Gordon Lightfoot and all I want to do is nap. Lightfoot considers this song his most significant musical achievement (and credit should indeed be given for including the words “Gitche Gumee” in a pop song), and peaking here at #2, it’s his second-highest charter, behind 1974’s “Sundown.”

Lightfoot gave all rights and royalties of this song to the families of those lost in the wreck, which is a truly wonderful thing. The writers from The Simpsons wanted to use this song in a section of the “Radio Bart” episode where Bart sees an commercial for a microphone that transmits to any AM radio — but because of the complications in getting permission from the families, they went with C.W. McCall’s “Convoy” instead. True story!

1. Tonight’s the Night (Gonna Be Alright) — Rod Stewart

Here it is, folks: not only the #1 song of the week, but the #1 song of 1977. We gave it to this guy.

He’s worse than this guy!

“durrrrrrrrrrr!”

I’m perplexed. First, I’m perplexed that this song became the #1 hit of 1977, considering it didn’t actually chart at #1 during that year (I’m sure this will be explained by Cummings in the comments). But more than that, I’m perplexed that Rod Stewart became a sex symbol while wearing this outfit. He looks like an inbred clown doing dinner theatre. This is the third time I’m asking “why?” today. I’m tired of it. I’m so happy this week is over.

“Tonight’s the Night” is a song not exactly known for its subtlety; it was actually banned in Europe (and initially only played later in the evening in America) for its overt sexuality. This was mainly due to the line “spread your wings and let me come inside.” Is that really offensive? I only think it’s offensive if you think of “me” being “Rod Stewart.” Because I don’t see why anybody would want to sleep with him. Even if the song’s purpose is just to encourage others to get all sexy with each other, that doesn’t work for me either — because when the chorus starts, all I can think about is poor Rod’s vocal chords. Is it sexy to sound like you’re screaming up a lung? Of course, who cares what I think — this song became the biggest hit of Rod Stewart’s career. And if that doesn’t depress you enough, do you want to know what’s #2? “All for Love,” that stupid song he did with Bryan Adams and Sting. I think now is a very good time for me to stop writing.

By the way, I can’t believe this happened, but it did: a duet of “Tonight’s the Night” between Rod and Kim Carnes, presumably with a throat specialist waiting in the wings. I love that if I close my eyes and listen to this duet, I can’t tell them apart.

Whew! We’re done! I’m quite happy this week is over. Maybe it wasn’t as bad for you as it was for me, but personally, I’m giving thanks that we’ll be exploring a different week and year soon. You suck, November 1976. But I thank you for reading anyway! See you soon for another edition of CHART ATTACK!

The Strokes were victims of what happens to bands when the perfect storm of hype carries them beyond their allotted 15 minutes of fame. I remember publications calling them the next Nirvana. It was a poignant prophecy in a way, if by being the next Nirvana meant making three really good albums that were raw yet polished at the same time, and then never being heard from again. It’s hard when people anoint you the savior of rock and roll before you’ve actually really done anything. The Strokes unfortunately bought into the idea that they had to change the world, when they should have just kept on making Strokes albums. Their music was better than good enough, and much better than any of the solo records their hiatus has produced. Phrazes for the Young is no exception, though it comes closer than the others.

So what has Casablancas been doing all these years, besides not making an album with the Strokes? Judging from the lyrics, he’s been doing a lot of self-reflection.  He’s been thinking, he’s been growing up, he’s been trying to make sense of the world, and he’s been trying out sobriety. All of this is easily apparent in Phrazes, where he seems to be apologizing at times, and at others, even offering some advice. The album’s title and influence come from Oscar Wilde’s Phrases and Philosophies for the Young, a collection of witty and often tongue-in-cheek bumper sticker-style self-help quotes like “Dullness is the coming of age of seriousness,” and “Wickedness is a myth invented by good people to account for the curious attractiveness of others.”  The eight songs on Phrazes are based on the eight phrases Casablancas adds to the list, often slightly more serious than Wilde ever intended, like “Being nice is most important when others are not,” and “Drunkenness is cowardice, sobriety is loneliness.”

Casablancas is easily one of the most underrated talents in rock, but he only has himself to blame, and he’d probably like you to think that he doesn’t even care. The thing is, you know he does — that’s why his songs don’t suck. He’s got a thing for a hooky melody, and he’s always liked to mix it up stylistically while being extremely proficient at turning his influences into something of his own. Phrazes for the Young continues this tradition. It seems like the logical next step from his last batch of songs with the Strokes. This time, with nary a Strokes guitarist in sight, he ventures into electro-soul and ’80s synth-pop, sounding at its best moments like a young Van Morrison making an album with Erasure. He’s always written and arranged songs predominantly on the keyboard, so the synthesizer-heavy vibe of Phrazes suits Casablancas well.

It’s all a bit retro, yet slightly futuristic. ”11th Dimension” is New Order meets Motown girl group, while a song like “Left and Right in the Dark” makes me think of both Flock of Seagulls and Cyndi Lauper — in the best way possible, mind you. ”4 Chords of the Apocolypse ” is crooner cool with the added bonus of a sweet little solo, and “Ludlow Street” is a waltzy old Irish drinking song if Irish drinking songs featured drum machines. I love “River of Breaklights,” which falls somewhere between the last Strokes record and Thom Yorke’s Eraser, but my favorite is the jumpy opener “Out of the Blue,” where Casablancas is recounting mistakes of his past and only half apologizing for them. He’s learned some things along the way, but it’s not all regret. He wants to keep you from making his mistakes, yet he knows you need to. He’s “going to hell in a leather jacket,” but he’s fine with it, because “he’ll be in another world while you’re pissing on my casket.” I’m sure some people probably hate that line, but I fucking adore it. It’s a classic lyric in a song that is nothing if not classic Casablancas, and it sets the tone for the entire record. It’s not the only lyrical gem you’ll find here, either.

The negatives about this record go back to what I was saying before, and probably have more to do with what I’m used to hearing with Casablancas and the Strokes than anything really to do with Phrazes. Alone, Phrazes is an extremely enjoyable listen as far as I’m concerned, but in the context of the three Strokes albums, there’s a warmth and an attitude that’s sometimes missing, and every now and then it all feels kind of antiseptic and over-thought. That kind of thing can happen when you aren’t able to hide behind or within a band of brothers. The best thing about Casablancas with the Strokes was that they had the ability to craft amazingly good songs that sounded familiar yet fresh, all the while making it seem like they didn’t really give a shit. The Strokes had solid songs, but they also had a feel. Phrazes sounds meticulously crafted and produced, which shouldn’t alone be a negative, but I think Casablancas is just trying too hard and thinking too much, which is probably what inevitably sent the Strokes on hiatus in the first place.

Luckily, it’s a different world now, and no one expects the Strokes to change it anymore. The only people that still care about the band want nothing more than to hear more from them, and it’s just good to hear Casablancas writing songs again. If you liked the Strokes, you probably already own Phrazes, or you should. If you never liked them, this won’t change your mind — but what does become quite apparent with repeated listens is how much the Strokes are, in fact, Casablancas. Phrazes for the Young is in essence a Strokes album without the Strokes. Sure, he’s good enough to hold his own without them, but I can’t help but wonder how great this album would have sounded with the band. Julian Casablancas as a solo artist? I believe it, but I don’t want to. I just want another record from the Strokes, but I’ll take what I can get.

Like nearly all the great early songs by Old 97’s, the beauty of “Barrier Reef” is how it simultaneously works within the confines of country music while standing them on its head. It starts off with a simple guitar riff by Ken Bethea, followed by the rhythm section of drummer Philip Peeples and bassist Murry Hammond crashing in with a loping shuffle. If that wasn’t enough to scream “COUNTRY!” Rhett Miller’s lyrics seal the deal.

The Empty Bottle was half-empty
Tide was low and I was thirsty
Saw her sitting at the bar

Isn’t that perfect? Within the first 25 seconds, you’ve got a bar with a great name for the local honky-tonk, and a girl just waiting for some guy to put the moves on, which is what Rhett does in the second verse.

So I sidled up beside her
Settled down, shouted “Hi, there!
“My name’s Stuart Ransom Miller
“I’m a serial ladykiller”

Only guys who look like Rhett Miller can get away with lines as cheesy as that and have them work. It also helps when she responds with “I’m already dead.” In the third verse, they dance all night, then decide to get the hell out of there as the song builds up to the chorus.

What’s so great about the Barrier Reef?
What’s so fine about art?
What’s so good about a Goodtimes Van
When you’re working on a broken, working on a broken
Working on a broken man?

Turns out the self-proclaimed “serial ladykiller” is anything but. The lyrical shift is matched by the music, as the guitars kick in and Miller’s tone changes from seductive to desperate. After the guitar solo, Miller tells us what went wrong.

My heart wasn’t in it
Not for one single minute
I went through the motions with her
Her on top and me on liquor
Didn’t do no good
Well, I didn’t think it would

Remember that classic scene in Say Anything… where Lloyd’s friend tells him that, in order to get over Diane, he needs to “find a girl that looks just like her, nail her, and then dump her?” Thankfully, Lloyd didn’t take his advice, but Miller apparently did, and it turned out as well as expected. But at least he got laid, right?

As great as “Barrier Reef” is on its own, it works best in conjunction with “Timebomb,” the song that precedes it on the band’s 1997 Elektra debut Too Far to Care. “Timebomb” features Miller crazy about a “stick-legged girl” who’s “gonna kill me/and I don’t mean softly.” So when “Barrier Reef” comes in immediately afterward, it comes across as the aftermath of “Timebomb,” and forms one of the great one-two punches for an album of the past 15 years.

The Zombies: Odessey & Oracle [Revisited] – The 40th Anniversary Concert DVD was just released, and it just landed in my mailbox. Let’s cut to the chase: The second part of this fantastic DVD contains the complete and legendary 1968 psychedelic classic Odessey & Oracle album, with all 12 tracks from the original release lovingly re-created and excellently played by the original four members of The Zombies: Rod Argent, Colin Blunstone, Chris White and Hugh Grundy, during an historic 40th Anniversary reunion concert in March 2008, at the Shepherds Bush Empire in London. It’s introduced by Al Kooper, who, as staff producer at CBS/Columbia records in the late ’60s, strongly urged label boss Clive Davis to release it in the States (Kooper had picked it up in London, and loved it; the Zombies’ American label was going to pass on it). It also marked the first time the album was played in its entirety by the original band in 40 years since its release. The band played three consecutive sold-out concerts around this time. One of these nights was filmed for this DVD.

The first part features everything else performed the same evening by the Zombies Touring Band comprised of Rod Argent, Colin Blunstone, Jim Rodford (ex-Argent), Steve Rodford and Keith Airey, and augmented by a string quintet. Songs include music made famous by the Zombies and Argent, plus selections from Colin Blunstone’s solo albums.

The DVD is dedicated to the much-missed fifth Zombie, Paul Atkinson (1946-2004).

The story behind the original album (80th on Rolling Stone’s list of the “500 Greatest Albums of All Time”) is fascinating. Rather than try to summarize it here, I suggest you read the Wikipedia entry on “Odessey & Oracle.”

Here’s a taste of what you’ll find on the DVD. I think it’s a perfect stocking stuffer for the classic rock fan in your life:

Two years ago I quietly began writing the Basement Songs posts on my blog, Thunderbolt. At the time I didn’t know who my audience was, as I honestly believed that ten, maybe twenty readers were checking out Thunderbolt on a weekly basis. Inspired by some of the finer music blogs I’d come across, I thought that Basement Songs would be an interesting alternative to the daily confessionals I was posting. At least it could be fun. As I’ve written before, the early months of 2007 were tough. I believe that the 2005 death of my friend, Matt, and a laundry list of regrets and unresolved issues finally caught up with me. Coupled with the ongoing stress of worrying about my son, I sunk into a deep funk (and not the kind of funk that involves the groove of Duck Dunn). Despite those dark months, I found great pleasure in writing the Basement Songs. A friend used the term “therapeutic communication” once, and I believe that’s a sound way of describing what I was doing. Again, I had no idea who was reading; I just needed to get some things off of my chest, and I wanted to share my love of certain music.

One person who was reading happened to be Jeff Giles, whose Jefitoblog was one of the best written and enjoyable sites I visited daily. Jeff and I became friends thanks to a comment he made about Springsteen and my response. This led to the exchange of some choice bootlegs, an Idiot’s Guide to Journey, and then one of the kindest gestures I’ve experienced this decade: Bloggers for a Cure, in which Jeff and some other fine bloggers (most of whom write for this site) joined together to raise money for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. Jeff was also a strong supporter of the Basement Songs and would link each new post in his weekly “Friday Linkfest.”

As many of you know, Jefitoblog vanished like the island in Lost and a huge void was left in the blogosphere. Instead of wallowing in misery, Jeff decided to gather up a group of his favorite writers (many of whom were involved with Bloggers for a Cure) and formed Popdose. I was honored that he asked me to bring the Basement Songs to the new site. Besides the opportunity to expand my audience beyond twenty people, readers would actually get to hear the songs!

In the beginning of 2008, after revising the very first Basement Song writeup of “The Rainbow Connection,” I published my first new column (I decided to call it a column instead of a post all of a sudden) for Popdose: a 1500-word essay on Bryan Adams’ “(Everything I Do) I Do It For You.” It took a long time for me to live down my affection for that song and Bryan Adams in general. Some comment I made about Taylor Swift a couple months back seemed to quell the abuse I received for writing so lovingly about Canada’s answer to John Mellencamp.

As 2008 progressed, the column slowly transformed from a weekly write-up about a song  into a running memoir that happened to feature a song in it. However, by the fall, the weekly outpouring of emotions that constitutes my life started to get difficult. There were skipped weeks, re-postings of old columns, and I questioned how long I could continue writing the Basement Songs. At this time last year, I imagined hitting 100 columns and possibly closing the basement door forever. How much b.s. can one guy have to say about himself?

At the beginning of this year I felt rejuvenated by a month off. Determined to at least write 100 columns, I challenged myself to write a new Basement Song entry for fifty weeks and to feature a different artist each week. Besides using one Thursday in April to review the Springsteen concert I took in with my friend, Jon Cummings, I’ve met that challenge, much to my amazement. And all of a sudden, here it is the second to last week in November and I’ve hit the 100 mark! How the hell did that happen? More importantly, I don’t see an end in sight.

Each week I send out reminders to friends and family when a new Basement Song goes live. As I have told those people many times, writing this column is one of my proudest achievements as a writer. In addition to the outpouring of support and kind words from readers, doing this column has given me the confidence and discipline to tackle writing a novel and actually completing it. But it’s not just the reward of working for Popdose that’s so fulfilling, it’s being a part of the Popdose cyber family, one that supports each other and watches each other’s backs. I have only met four of these people in person (Jon, Zack, Will, and the great John Hughes, who had to step down for professional reasons). I have only spoken to Jeff and Ted on the phone once. Yet I feel close to everyone on the Popdose staff, and would miss them greatly if they weren’t in my life.

A month or so ago, the site had some technical problems that Jeff described as pretty major. For a couple of hours, I wondered if Popdose would go black and cease to exist. Although I thought, “Phew, guess I don’t have to write that review of The Life and Times of Vivian Vyle after all!” I also got very sad at the thought of not having the people who are Popdose in my daily life. On any given day there are four or five emails from our “staff lounge” Google group. The banter back and forth between everyone often has me cracking up, eliciting some strange stares from my wife. These passionate men and women are my friends, even though we may never meet face to face (but seriously, Jeff, do something about that, will you?)

It may seem odd to reflect on the website I contribute to and people I have never met. However, I use this column each week to write about my life and I would be remiss if I didn’t take the time to reflect on Popdose and how it has become a major part of my daily existence. Jeff and Jason and Robert allow me to write what I want even though it has almost nothing to do with pop culture, and for that I will be for forever grateful. I am also forever grateful to all of you people who take the time to read and leave comments or email me or call me on my shit.

And so, I dedicate this week’s basement song to the women and men of Popdose. It’s one of my favorites from the summer of 1991. The lyrics fit the moment and I know, oh I know, that it’s by an artist that everyone on the staff admires and loves.

No, it’s not Bryan Adams.

Until next week,

Aloha

P.S. Oh, what the hell, here’s a Bryan Adams song anyway.