The Year in Music

The Inevitable Rise and Liberation of Niggy Tardust!: Saul Williams.  A month after Radiohead's "In Rainbows" made its pay-what-you-please splash, Williams, a spoken-word veteran, released "Niggy Tardust" the same way. The Trent Reznor-produced album is full of big beats, naked aggression and bold ideas—the main one being that they didn't need the help of the record industry. The first track, "Black History Month," thunders like a paranoid, postapocalyptic P. Funk drumline. "I'm tougher than bullets so, baby, pray to your savior/ I never been shot, but I bet you I'm braver/ I'm taking my spot, n---a, I ain't afraid to be me/ Sometimes I find it very hard to be ... who? Me." Tracks like "Tr(n)igger," with its perpetual Public Enemy loop, and a creepy cover of U2's "Sunday Bloody Sunday" keep the tension elevated throughout. —BB

In Rainbows: Radiohead. When "In Rainbows" arrived in October, the media obsessed over its method of delivery—a name-your-price download--and largely ignored the music. Don't make the same mistake. This lucid, open-armed album strikes a better balance between experimentation and accessibility than any Radiohead release since "OK Computer." And "Nude" is the year's most heartbreaking love song. —AR

Jarvis: Jarvis Cocker. We want to be Jarvis Cocker. We want his velvet suits, his outrageous glasses, his rangy frame and, most of all, his unerring way with a putdown. Possibly the cruelest lyricist since "Thin Wild Mercury"-era Dylan, the former Pulp frontman delivers again on his solo debut. Just look at the track list: "Fat Children," "I Will Kill Again," "Don't Let Him Waste Your Time." That the latter boasts his best blend of melody and misanthropy since "Common People"—and one of our favorite videos, like, ever--is icing on the cake. —AR

Lip Gloss: Lil Mama. It's poppin'; it's cool. Lil Mama spits fire. What more needs to be said about this 18-year-old Queens native's breakout single? —BB

Mark Ronson. What a year this kid had. Amy Winehouse's "Back to Black" belongs at the top of any year-end music list, but her best song, "Rehab," owes its sound to producer wunderkind Ronson (not to mention Sharon Jones's backing band, the Dap Kings). Oh, and Ronson also had a hand in producing another standout Brit whose debut finally came to our shores this year. Lily Allen's "Alright, Still," may have been floating around online for months, but it officially brought its lilting calypso-ska-pop (and Ronson production) to the States in 2007. While Timbaland, another superproducer who had a big year, was busy spreading himself thin (cough cough OneRepublic cough), Ronson followed all that up with "Version," an album of contemporary covers and classic British pop done with an old-school Stax/Motown twist. Lily and Amy both come back for cameos, but Ronson was the star. —BB
 
Marry Me: St. Vincent. St. Vincent is Annie Clark--an associate of both Sufjan Stevens and the Polyphonic Spree--and just when she threatens to outquirk the quirkiest Brooklyn hipster on earth, she surprises you. On her beguiling, gorgeous debut she plays guitar, organ, clavieta, xylophone, vibraphone, dulcimer, Moog, bass and piano. And there are just as many moods—cinematic, smooth, dark, jaunty and, OK, sometimes twee. Listen to "Paris is Burning": "come sit right here and sleep while I slip poison in your ear," she coos. She channels Billie Holiday—and all of Lady Day's troubles—on "What Me Worry?" And on "Marry Me John," she sounds so good, so kind, even as she sings "I'll be so sweet to you, you won't realize I'm gone." She'll be in someone else's arms—and lingering in your ears. —BB

Night Falls on Kortedala: Jens Lekman. Lekman combines the slack-jawed charm of Jonathan Richman with sweeping Brill Buildingcraftsmanship to create the best Swedish pop record of 2007—and if you know anything about Swedish pop, that's no small feat. Try "Sharin," with a falsetto chorus worthy of Frankie Valli.  Aren't guilty pleasures supposed to make you feel guilty? —AR
 
RoadkillOvercoat: Busdriver.  The warped, rapid-fire Los Angeles emcee keeps getting better. On this year's RoadkillOvercoat, Busdriver's first release on the Anti/Epitaph label, the cerebral rapper's rhymes are more sing-songy and more politically charged--he rages against both hypocritical hippies and a certain genus of Texas shrub. He's also still cheeky about his fate as perennial underground darling. ("My daily commute ends in a fender bender because no one acknowledges my 10-year tenure./ I've got the know-how to thrill your scene, but they want someone lowbrow, a philistine," he raps on the hook-heavy opener, "Casting Agents and Cowgirls.") With DJs Nobody and Boom Bip supplying the beats, Busdriver seems most comfortable venturing outside his comfort zone, smirking nasally through '80s-style synth pop, drum 'n' bass, and even faux emo in addition to funky old-school hip hop. —BB