1) Manu Chao, Proxima Estacion: Esperanza (Virgin). While literally translating as Next Stop: Hope, the title also puts a spin on the (un)common global lingo because the depth of this restless traveler's cosmopolitanism. Don't bother to figure out which track is "ska" and which "benga." Just bask in the irresistible grooves and elemental chant-tunes driving the Franco-Spanish pixie's bossadelic swirl. And when the dust settles, see if you can tell that he's a Dr. Feelgood zealot.

2) The Coup, Party Music (Ark 21). It's loaded with imaginative rhymes regarding the upending of capitalism, and whether or not you agree that there are a 1000 ways to kill a CEO, you'll likely agree that more often than not, a sizable segment of America's population goes without quite a few amenities. In the most blatant political rap in years, this Oakland duo proved their craft was equal to their commitment.

3) Various Artists, Osmosis Jones (Atlantic). It's a mix of R&B heroes, neo-soulsters, and microphone fiends, and it's pretty strong proof that a motley assortment of tracks can rival the clout of a disc built around a single artist's "vision." Indeed, from artists I slept on (like Brandy) to artists I'm truly hazy about (like St. Lunatics), I was moved to do some follow up and pleasantly surprised by the results.

4) Macy Gray, The Id (Epic). It makes the cut simply because 2000's R&B it girl and this year's idiosyncratic fashion flake had the audacity to follow up a smasheroo disc with something that stressed diversity rather than repetition. So the crazed choruses work to market private obsessions and flighty fancies, and from the Weill echoes to the disco romps, Gray somehow puzzles them together. Let it all hang out.

5) Bob Dylan, Love and Theft (Columbia). Don't expect formal meaning or discernable narratives. Just revel in the way his purposefully random rhyming sets all sort of moods and tells all sorts of stories. Back in the day it was deemed rock poetry. This time around, it's a way for the sometimes-cranky elder to make hay with whimsy. From the mock braggadocio to the bad puns, it becomes him.

6) Old 97s, Satellite Rides(Elektra). I've always appreciated their dungaree rock -- and not just because they're one of the only alt.country entries with a talent for something besides being glum. But that appreciation was nudged to admiration with Rhett Miller's latest round of songs and, yes, it came after witnessing one of their terrifically knockabout live shows.

7) Various Artists, Avalon Blues: A Tribute to John Hurt (Vanguard). Not one of the blues dudes or folk ladies is as compelling or important as the genial champ they honor, but heard together, the pointed musicality and unmistakable spirit of Hurt's ditties becomes wonderfully obvious. Especially Lucinda's prayer and Earle's sex spiel.

8) Lucinda Williams, Essence (Lost Highway). Heartbreak and heartache -- Williams's focus on a dead relationship can only voice its findings in whispers and moans. And with the candid sensuality of each, a new level of intimacy is reached as a new level of obsession is broached.

9) Cachaito Lopez, Cachaito (World Circuit/Nonesuch). The bassist is the son of Cuban genius Cachao, and his break from the Buena Vista Social Club explained that, at the age of 68, he had a modern streak in him. It really wouldn't matter unless he had an almost ingenious way with vamps. But, of course, he can claim that, too.

10) Spiritualized, Let It Come Down (Arista), and Sigur Ros, Agaetis Byrjun (Pias/Fatcat). Taken together because they're connected opposites. Spiritualized's disc is gregarious in its grandeur, with tsunami-sized swells of sound reaching for an open sky. Icelandic ensemble Ros has an equally ambitious reach, but their magnificence is as insular as it is formidable. The drones and coos are perfectly ethereal, and in the end they revel in their privacy.

JAZZ

1) Jason Moran, Black Stars (Blue Note). The pianist's strength is in casting elliptical ideas in purposeful ways, and the musical architecture on his third and best disc continuously folds in on itself. But he's a swinger, too, dedicating a large part of his time to propulsion. So an extroverted pleasure resounds in every passage, and the decision to include veteran saxophonist Sam Rivers explains a lot about Moran's sense of direction.

2) Bruce Barth, East and West (MaxJazz). The pianist is known for his trio work, but here he writes several charts for four reeds, proving his versatility and creating some truly rich sounds. Barth is about vantage points: he hears standards in keenly singular ways, and his natural grace usually gives their often unusual execution an irrefutable logic.

3) Michael Moore, Jewels and Binoculars (Ramboy). This Amsterdam-based American clarinetist leads a trio through an all-Dylan book that tests a key pop thesis: that the songwriter's words are more important than his melodies. There's a great simplicity driving this reeds/bass/drums outing. The musicians effect Zimmy's original eloquence by stressing the power of subtlety and opting for romance at several turns.

4) Spring Heel Jack, Masses (Thirsty Ear). A pair of Brit soundscapists reshapes a bunch of tracks from New York progressives, including Matthew Shipp, Tim Bern, and Mat Maneri. The result illustrates just how lucid and thought-through abstraction can really be.

5) Matt Wilson, Arts and Crafts (Palmetto). Its devotion to melody is so great, you could almost consider it a pop disc. The NYC drummer understands that themes propel players and tickle listers, so George Gershwin, Roland Kirk, Bud Powell, and a scad of Wilson's own works are chosen for their indelible sense of "song."

6) Craig Taborn, Light Made Lighter (Thirsty Ear). James Carter's Detroit pal is a pianist of weight, and his first domestic record found him reminding us that trio work can be both elaborate and intricate. Regardless of where this program dallies -- knotty squalls, tranquil reflections -- it always its personality on forward motion. Monk's shadow looms, but Taborn has plenty of fresh ideas.

7) The Bad Plus (Fresh Sounds). There's a wiseacre tone behind some of the chosen pop pieces. Abba's "Knowing Me, Knowing You" creates a mood of mischief -- harmonic neck-wringing, splashy faux melancholy -- that tells you this trio of pianist Ethan Iverson, bassist Reid Anderson, and drummer Dave King use sarcasm as a vehicle for creativity. And creative it is. They're melody mongers, demanding their original tunes be just as catchy as their improv is resourceful.

8) Miles Davis, Live at the Fillmore East (March 7, 1970): It's About Time (Columbia). Titled such because it's the first non-boot issue of this particular band. But the moniker also toys with the way the trumpeter's electric group -- Corea, DeJohnette, Airto, and Shorter (on his last night as part of the crew) -- mess with rhythms, chop up pulses, and bend enough cadences to create one of the most rabid and imaginative concerts ever heard at the mighty Fillmore East.

9) Bill Mays, Summer Sketches (Palmetto). Gentility mixes with feistiness in a concept disc about the fair season that knows enough to present more than noonday radiance and sunset pastels. Here's a piano trio that's dedicated to working the nuances of a tune.

10) Luciana Souza, Brazilian Duos (Sunnyside), and Kurt Elling, Flirting with Twilight (Blue Note). Two vocalist discs that fed me what I needed. Elling's horn section created a terrific backdrop for his spin through myriad ballads. Souza's cat and mouse game with a handful of guitarists show just how bewitching samba/bossa can be, and just how much musicianship it takes to convincingly extrapolate on it.

SINGLES
1) Missy Elliott, "Get Ur Freak On"
2) John Mellencamp, "Peaceful World"
3) Bubba Sparxxx, "Ugly"
4) Jay-Z, "Izzo (H.O.V.A.)"
5) R. Kelly featuring Jay-Z, "Fiesta"

REISSUES
Charles Mingus, Tijuana Moods (Bluebird)
Miles Davis, The Complete In A Silent Way Sessions (Columbia/Legacy)
The Worlds of Charley Patton (Revenant)
Lady Day: The Complete Billie Holiday on Columbia (1933-1944) (Columbia/Legacy)
Various Artists, Folks, He Sure Do Pull Some Bow: Vintage Fiddle Music 1927-1935 (Old Hat)
Firesign Theatre, I Think We're All Bozos On This Bus (Columbia/Legacy)

Issue Date: December 28, 2001 - January 3, 2002