New York City gutter-popsters the Strokes toured their brains out and then delivered an album that should have been a hit in 1979. U.K. house maniacs Basement Jaxx bumped out "Rooty," a new disco milestone. Psychedelic cowboys from Los Angeles, Beachwood Sparks followed their dusty debut for Sub Pop with the dreamier "Once We Were Trees." Unsung producer David Axelrod released a stellar album for DJ-label Mo Wax that he started in the '60s, proof that the man is a bona-fide sonic genius for any era. Brazilian Moreno Veloso may not be father Caetano, but "Music Typewriter" melds gentle folk with electronic beats well. Precise band in surgical scrubs, Clinic released the addictively eerie "Internal Wrangler." Goldfrapp's gorgeous vox and Cousteau's lounge-lizard jazzy-rock offered plenty of romance. Cartoon project of Blur's Damon Albarn, Gorillaz made an irreverent debut. Chicagoan Edith Frost's "Wonder, Wonder" is a sad indie-folk-rock record, and a deeply musical one.

Rob Evans, News Editor, LiveDaily.com

The creaky voice of ex-Pavement frontman Stephen Malkmus sounds practically pop on his latest. The Blake Babies still bring out the best in Juliana Hatfield--let's hope there's more where this came from. News flash: Bob Dylan Having Fun. Jazzman Greg Osby's use of strings is groundbreaking. Long live the Mods: The Odd Numbers take equal parts of the Jam and early Who, creating a punk-pop gem. Many of John Oswald's hard-to-find Plunderphonics works are available in one collection, but pesky copyright issues could make this set disappear quickly. Dungeon Family, the Atlanta-based hip-hop collective, finally brings that city's best acts under the same roof. If radio didn't suck, you could hear Creeper Lagoon there. Los Super Seven are as great their line-up--which is to say, they're great. Old 97's alt-country heads in a pop direction, but the tunes are still tasty.

Highlights of 2001: Jane's Addiction reunion, the Strokes living up to their hype, Sum 41's infectious "Fat Lip" single, David Holmes' soundtrack for "Ocean's 11," the first two installments of De La Soul's "Art Official Intelligence" triptych, Tenacious D becoming the Greatest Band on Earth, Gorillaz becoming the first (truly) two-dimensional band to rock since Josie and the Pussycats, Ryan Adams' "Gold," resurgence of three-year-old Wiseguys track "Start the Commotion" due to Mitsubishi ad. Lowlights: Death of Aaliyah, "Lady Marmalade" collaboration, Mariah's breakdown/implosion, Eminem's duet with Elton John, Rage Against the Machine breakup, Run-DMC's "Crown Royal," Britney's Vegas burlesque show, too many pop stars in lame movies ('NSync, Jessica Simpson, Bijou Phillips), anything Creed-related, Jason Newstead's exit from Metallica and James Hetfield's stint in rehab. Requests for 2002: More turntablism, less grimy lyrics. More rock, less lip-synching. More alt-country, less arena country. More love, less hate.

Don Harvey, Music Editor, austin.citysearch.com

Underground legend Ray Wylie Hubbard's 10th album, "Eternal and Lowdown," is not only his finest record to date, it's a new American treasure. The album is instilled with Hubbard's experience, and is so swampy that, after a good listen, you'll need to scrape the moss off your boots. September 11 changed everything, including the way we listen to music. "New York, New York," the first single off Ryan Adam's "Gold," (which started getting airplay in August and was already climbing the charts) suddenly took on new meaning, becoming an anthem of love for our nation's greatest city. "Gold" proves that Adams is capable of successfully blending a myriad of styles and influences. Though Jimmie Vaughan might not fancy himself a jazz vocalist, he becomes one on "Do You Get the Blues?" Vaughan's voice has mellowed like a fine cognac and his guitar playing is gorgeous, understated and deliberate.

After September 11, the glare of popular music v.2001 felt a bit too flash. Case in point: High-profile blanks from once-bankable stars like Mick Jagger, Mariah Carey and Michael Jackson. That's not to say the year--pre- and post-9/11--was without blockbusters. Madonna, U2, Radiohead and Bjork all enjoyed sell-out tours, and demand for Britney Spears' jiggle grows as she approaches her twenties. But as Americans sobered following 9/11, introspective sounds and thoughtful messages were entirely more fitting. Norway's Kings of Convenience sum it up best with the title of their truthful debut album, "Quiet Is the New Loud," and Ryan Adams seals it with a kiss on his suddenly patriotic anthem "New York, New York." Manhattan's Strokes, while buzzed to death, embody the pith of their hometown. And consider a track from Radiohead's "Amnesiac" album, the epic "You and Whose Army?" a fight song for humankind.

Steven Jenkins, Editor in Chief, bayarea.citysearch.com

The slowly spinning stories on this year's best records sounded either eerily familiar, like half-forgotten family lore, or deep, dark and strange, like the pages of a stranger's diary. These records were essential throughout this cataclysmic year, but tomorrow's list might include Bjork, Elbow, Spain, Pulp, Stereolab, Nick Lowe, Bob Dylan, Kelly Hogan, Mercury Rev and Red House Painters. Musical necessities change as we do, with time and circumstance. A few certainties: Nick Cave brought on tears while singing "Papa Won't Leave You, Henry" at the Palace of Fine Arts in San Francisco; the year's most beautiful song was Rufus Wainwright's "Poses"; Elvis Costello worked wonders with Anne-Sofie von Otter; and Kirsty MacColl's and George Harrison's passing drained some joy from the world. We can't afford to lose much more.

Maura Johnston, Music Editor, philadelphia.citysearch.com

2001 had been the official year of "the future" for a good portion of the 20th century, but what the radios were playing yearned for the past. Aside from the RIAA's technophobia during the Napster fiasco, old was new all over: The semi-smirking cover became the calling card of choice for rock acts (Marilyn Manson, Alien Ant Farm); 'NSync sampled Pac-Man and became a backup dancing machine for Michael Jackson (whose "You Rock My World" video tried to turn back the clock to an era where people cared about his short films); a radio format of music culled entirely from the '80s crackled across FM dials. Even the best releases of the year took their cues from other eras: Trembling Blue Stars borrowed heavily from "Disintegration"-era Cure, while Erase Errata and the Ex-Models committed the topsy-turviness of 2001 to music through skittering, blistering cut-and-paste jobs that recalled the post-punk era.

Kevin Forest Moreau, Music Editor, atlanta.citysearch.com

The very idea of music criticism in the new, post-September 11 world has undergone a sea change. In the current era of loss and uncertainty, the smug cloak of superiority in which we critics often wrap ourselves seems an unforgivable indulgence. Navigating this new terrain seems to require a broader field of vision. For this critic, that's meant embracing the urge to sing along without shame to 'NSync in the grocery store, to proudly pump one's fist to Creed's newest anthem during rush hour. The days of dismissing manufactured, lowest-common-denominator fare, of patting ourselves on the back for our eclectic tastes, may one day return. But for now, we take our pleasures wherever we find them, however small, fleeting or guilty those pleasures may be. Is Ryan Adams a better, more legitimate talent than Kid Rock? Sure. But these days, that's the most irrelevant question imaginable.

Jack Morris, Senior Editor, boston.citysearch.com

Take the new Britney Spears record, all the 'NSync, Sugar Ray and P. Diddy spoon-fed pop garbage hits of 2001 and light them on fire. If you listen closely enough to your subconscious, you may hear ideas like, "Wow, System of a Down is freaking insane!" or "I've never heard anything like that new Tool album." You might even find yourself seeking the wisdom of old-timey treats like the bluegrass of Vassar Clements or Patty Loveless. Delve deeper for the foundations of rock, and thanks to "Good Rockin' Tonight," you'll capture a big chunk of it. But all this introspective thinking might cause you to break a sweat. Once that happens, crank up the latest releases from Pennywise, the Cult or the Dropkick Murphys, start a mosh pit and revel in your newfound musical freedom.

Jennifer Osorio, Senior Editor, miami.citysearch.com

Jeremy Reed, Managing Editor, citysearch.com

In the past couple of years, many of these artists have shown up on annual lists, featuring the best recordings of their careers. This time around, it only took Dylan a couple of weeks in the studio. Lucinda Williams turned in a worthy follow-up to her Grammy-winning "Car Wheels on a Gravel Road" in her own record time (three years), and with little controversy. Golden boy Ryan Adams rightfully takes the best album of the year. Alt-country hero Alejandro Escovedo fits perfectly into his renewed rocker's mold. New faces with lots of hype prove they are well-deserving--England's favorite American band, the Strokes; MTV2 darling Pete Yorn; and Austinite David Garza, who remains "new" after a decade of recording. Mary J. Blige provides the anthems and guilty pleasures, Travis adds the melody and Bruce Robison remains underrated though mainstream country artists seem more than willing to sing his songs. All in all, not a bad year for music.

Troy Schulze, Music Editor, houston.citysearch.com

Here comes the flood again. This year's barrel of best-of lists will inevitably overflow with more praise for Detroit's charismatic rock duo, the White Stripes. "White Blood Cells," Jack and Meg White's first album of all-original material, explodes with minimalist passion. Except for the intermission-like "We're Going to Be Friends" and the soulful closer, "This Protector," every song is a guitar-and-drum assault so effortlessly infectious that one might compare it to discovering the cure for the common cold in high-school biology class. The Whites rip off rock's skin to expose its bluesy muscle and bone, so stark it's grotesque, at least at first. But near the record's end, the Whites' simple language translates fluently. Live, the duo stages a master class, transcending blues-savvy pretension with sheer childlike exuberance, mesmerizing with metronomic rhythm and deafening, contagious riffs. Here's hoping the White Stripes continue to pump resistant and vital rock-and-roll blood.

Dylan Siegler, Music Editor, newyork.citysearch.com

Besides the undeniably brilliant releases of Bob Dylan, Ryan Adams and Lucinda Williams, this past year was also a time of innovative collaborations. The Word--featuring John Medeski, members of the North Mississippi All Stars, and the hottest young pedal steel player you'll ever hear (Robert Randolph)--released a burning Southern gospel romp that sounds like a cross between the Allman Brothers and Rev. James Cleveland. The Philadelphia Experiment brought together a trio of divergent musicians--drummer Ahmir "?uestlove" Thompson (The Roots), pianist-keyboardist Uri Caine (Don Byron) and bassist Christian McBride (McCoy Tyner)--and the result was infectious soul-jazz with some funky covers thrown in for good measure. Chris Whitley took his sultry slide-guitar rock to another level with DJ Logic on "Rocket House," while guitarist extraordinaire Bill Frisell released an excellent, atmospheric, blues-based album with help of renowned bassist Dave Holland (Miles Davis) and drummer Elvin Jones (John Coltrane).

Thoughts on music from the year Arthur C. Clarke built: Old was new again, as living legends like rock icon Bob Dylan and jazz vocalist Shirley Horn released their strongest albums in years. Producers, as always, deserve more credit than they receive. Missy Elliott's album, high-powered hip-hop throughout, should be co-headlined by producer Timbaland. Bjork's "Vespertine," likewise, owes much of its sonic mystery to its producers, largely a duo known as Matmos, whose own 2001 release, an intricate sample mosaic, makes for endlessly fascinating listening. Most of the major minimalists released CDs of new compositions, including Steve Reich and John Adams, and of them it was Ingram Marshall who most deserved a broader audience, with his fascinating application of electronic reverb effects to choral music. Between Marshall's technophilia and the chamber-like instrumentals by Scott Tuma (formerly of the band Souled American), the divide between "classical" and "rock" is rendered increasingly specious.

"Too many goddamn bands," sings John Doe. Quasi's fifth album should be its catapult--no one sounds like Quasi, and no one writes a better hook or pens a more subversively simple lyric. But we only have so much time. We want to get the Quasi, or the Strokes or the Jay Farrar (neither of which I've heard yet), but we start browsing, and we see a Count Five, a Sun Ra, and we've been meaning to check them out for years, and if not now, when? We need a moratorium. No new songs for 2002. If you must release an album, make it a mix tape. Reach into the past, pull up some under-known musicians. Or, if you absolutely must, cover them, like Robbie Fulks did on "13 Hillbilly Giants." Let us catch up. Ease our hip burdens. (And that Sparklehorse album, I want to hear that one.)

Jon Zahlaway, Staff Writer, LiveDaily.com

Instead of delivering a wanker guitar album, Jane's Addiction guitarist Dave Navarro proves on his solo debut that he is a more-than-capable singer-songwriter. Bjork continues to amaze with her daring creativity. Jamiroquai does '70s-style funk that is as good as actual '70s funk. Stone Temple Pilots show off their songwriting ability with varied styles and tempos. Depeche Mode still does what its always done, mostly as well as it's always done it. The Cult offers up an actual rock-and-roll album--an endangered species these days. Tool boggles the mind with full-on prog-rock. Dave Matthews Band's collaboration with producer Glen Ballard irritated many longtime fans, but resulted in some of the group's catchiest songs yet. Kravitz's latest--which he wrote, performed and produced--though not his best songwriting to date, displays his indisputable talent. New York City rapper Hesher's solo debut is a fun romp, reminiscent of Beastie Boys.